#hp fanfic

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

i can fix him (no really i can) // mattheo riddle x fem reader

playlist : i can fix him (no really i can) - taylor swift

summary : mattheo riddle is cold as ice , he always has been , so who are you to think you can fix him?

gryffindor reader , friends with golden trio , makes a bet , fluff , harry x reader platonic , swearing , honestly cringe but wtv

you sat in the great hall staring ahead of you at a certain brown haired boy , eating his food silently surrounded by his chatty friends he didnt seem to pay any mind to. mattheo riddle. he had always intriuged you , you werent sure your curiousity was requited but you knew you liked him. a lot.

"you best not be looking at him again y/n" hermione sighed , sat opposite to you and in front of the slytherin table.

"hermione , ive liked him since first year are we still seriously asking this question every day." you pulled your eyes away from him , and looked at the girl with a teasing smile , knowing you were guilty of staring.

"gosh you really need to get over it , i mean what about dean he seems to really like you?" you both turned your heads to look at hermiones suggested replacement for mattheo , who was currently trying to turn his pumkin juice into water just with his eyes.

you scoffed and turned back to hermione , who looked defeated , "im sure the conversation would be great."

hermione ingorned your sarcasm and continued to argue , "mattheo isnt a good guy we both know this,"

"i can fix him," you winked at her teasingly as she scoffed , containing a laugh.

"arent you just our brave little bob the builder," harry joked , you and hermione being completely startled by his and rons prescence next to you both , eventhough theyd been there the whole time.

you laughed at him , attempting to defend your claim, "no really i can! ill fix him so hard that he gets mistaken for golden boy cedric!"

"this is starting to sound oddly sexua-" ron stated blandly before hermione slapped his arm , making him stop talking abruptly and clutch it.

"i dont believe you," hermione stated simply as you smirked at her.

"end of the week and he'll like me back or atleast talk to me," you stuck your hand out as she hesitated before shaking it muttering a disapproving , 'deal'.

looking at her smugly you let your eyes quickly wander to mattheo , only to see him staring right at you. this caused you to gasp and turn you whole body to face harry next to you , who looked at you in confusion.

holding a hand to harrys ear and whispering , "is he still staring at me" timidly.

harry looked , only to see a very threatening mattheo riddle stare back at him like he started the wizarding war.

"oh merlin no not at you , hes looking at me , not in a .... very nice way," harry whispered back as you refused to turn , nervous by your crush of years staring in your direction.

grabbing harrys arm with your two hands and shaking it with a small cry of terror harry turned back to you, "hes so hot even when he looks like he wants to kill you! id let him as long as he never changed that gorgeous face"

"wow great to know you value my life," harry muttered sarcastically as you laughed at him before slowly turning bcak to face hermione , avoiding looking in mattheos direction.

"well hermione its great to do business with you," you smiled at her as she grimaced at you.

"he is a person you know," she said sternly.

"i know , thats the problem! hes good looking hes smart AND hes a good person!" you sighed.

"well i dont know about one of those things-" ron started in disinterested grumble.

"thats why im doing this hermione! hes so perfect that a little bet is the motivation i need to actually talk to him!" you ranted to her.

she just looked back a you blankly , nodding along to what you said , too bored to argue back.

"anyways , did anyone do their herbology homework?" hermione asked all three of us.

ron let out a defeated sigh , "how many times hermione , not all of us have that little time turning watch thing , we cant do herbology because its at the same time as history of magic!"

"well , ronald , i apolagise that i forgot!...." hermiones arguing back faded into the background as your sudden realisation that you had just made an impossible bet sunk in.

no one can melt mattheo riddle , it is literally impossible.

what have you gotten yourself into.

-----

maybe it is possible! oh the Gods of luck had blessed you today.

Dumbledore just announced the triwizard tournament and from your oh so knowledgable friend hermione , you knew that a ball was involved in the triwizard tournament. maybe the fact harrys name came out the goblet wasnt so good but you had a plan! now this may seem ridiculous , the ball isnt until christmas! but...throughout the term youre doing practices , the first one on friday! two days from now!

and your great plan was to dance with mattheo in this practice, gain his interest , ask him to hogsmeade over the weekend and then BOOM , hes in love!! all by the end of the week!

as you recited your plan to your three friends they looked back at you , horrified.

"right and... you expect mattheo riddle to fall in love with you , in three days?" ron asked in pure confusion.

"well yeah thats what i just said," you said with a shrug.

"y/n you're really not that charismatic i dont think youve ever flirted with anyeone nevermind asked a boy to hogsmeade," hermione said , almost with sympathy for your pure delusion.

"you guys are cruel i think i can ..... i cant do it." you dropped your act of confidence.

your shoulder slouched as you lost all hopes of catching the boy of your dreams , the plan drifting into the forgotten corner of your mind.

the trio watched you lose all happiness and life and let out sighs , harry deciding to speak up , "y/n i think your plan could work. i mean your flirting will be ... raw and.... new". he spoke with uncertainty as he tried to speak in a way that was reassuring , eventhough he didnt believe a word he said.

"really?" you said with hope , looking up at him.

"sure!" he smiled .

"let me practice on you harry!" as you turned to him with an excited smile drowning out his words of declining your request.

you looked at him with your prettiest smile , shuffling closer than before and playing with your hair , "hey boy , want me to be your chosen one?"

you winked at him as he blushed a deep red and looked anywhere but at you.

ron laughed loudly at harrys panic , "that really made you flustered?!, fucking hell!"

ron howled with laughter as harry rubbed his neck , until you turned to ron with the same flirtatious smile , "i really like your hair , i heard gingers are rare - wanna be my one in a million?"

ron paused his laughter and looked at you with horror , "there is literally like 5 other gingers in this room right now-"

"and out of all of them , i chose you" you winked at him as he was left speechless.

"yeah shes kinda good," ron laughed.

"all i can say is good luck, " hermione stated as you smiled in victory.

meanwhile an extremely angered mattheo riddle stood up from the slytherin table and stormed out the hall , having seen your whole encouter with harry.

----

the next thing you knew , you were sat on a bench with all of your year group present , boys on one side , girls on the other. you clenched your shaking hands onto the bench on either side of you , staring directly forward and avoiding mattheo who was stood a few metres away from where you stared.

"you were so confident a few days ago why are you shaking?" hermione asked teasingly.

you snapped your head towards her with a hard glare , "im in no mood for teasing mione im gonna throw up."

she sighed , "just ask him to dance its not that bad y/n dont worry!"

"and if he says no?" you asked in panic.

"then he says no and you lose the bet , " she smiled.

"its...its not really about the bet mione i really like him , if he rejects me i dont think ill recover." you look down at your lap as your leg bounces.

"oh give over! theres about 5 people i can see right now , staring at you , itching to dance with you," she nodded her head in the direction of a group of ravenclaws staring at you as you cringed internally , "and... ha it looks like mattheos seen them too!" she teasingly whsipered in a sing-song voice.

you gave her a confused look before turning to see mattheo , who was actually throwing a deathly glare at the boys who were staring at you.

"theyre probably looking at you mione," you sulked as she went to argue back , interrupted by Mcgonagall walking into the room.

"silence!" she started as you drowned out her words for the next 5 minutes , only tuning back in when she made ron dance with her , laughing hysterically at him.

after a few minutes of rons awkward dancing she urged everyone to join in , everyone hesitated and stayed seated until - to everyones -suprise mattheo was the first person to walk forward with a confident stride to our side of the room , coming straight towards......you?!!

you made eye contact with him and held a hopeful smile until daphne stood infront of him, blocking your view of him and stopping him in his tracks . he tried to get past her until she whispered something to him , making him stop and put his hand on her waist , beginning to dance as everyone else seemed to do the same.

but you remained in your seat , motified by the sight of the boy you liked dancing with one of the prettiest girls in your year , right infront of you.

hermione rested her hand on your shoulder sympathetically before being dragged away by a guy shes friends with in ravenclaw.

you sat in silence until a hand came into your view , held out to you. following up the arm the hand was attached to you finally reached harrys smiling face.

"he sucks anyway , dance with me instead?" he smiled as you allow you sadness to fade slightly , nodding and grabbing harrys hand allowing yourself to be pulled into the middle of the floor , about two metres from where mattheo and daphne danced.

"thanks harry," you said softly as you rested your arms around his neck , his hands resting on your waist.

"no worries, theres no other girl id rather dance with in this room."

"asides from cho chang but ill let you have it because she isnt technically in the room," as you laughed at his flustered face.

"hows ron after dancing with-" you started.

"oh hes horrified , dont worry ill make sure to bring that up for the rest of his life. im sure fred and george will too when i tell them," you both laughed together , letting yourself feel the meloncholia leave.

"i-" you began before being cut off by a sudden presence stood next to you and harry.

turning to look at who had created the shadow inbetween you , you were just as horrified as ron was to see mattheo stood there looking at you.

"can we dance?" he said sternly , not sparing a single glance at harry who had let go of your waist.

"but you were dancing with daphne-"

"i just danced with her whilst draco mustered up the courage to ask her himself , she didnt want to have no one to dance with. i wanted to dance with you." he said with zero hesitation , only breaking eye contact to glance at your arms still behind harrys neck , making you drop them quickly.

"s-...sure" he didnt wait to grab your hand and bring you towards him , resting his hands on your hips and shoving harry out the way with his side.

you felt the blood rush up to your cheeks , hesitantly bringing your arms around his neck and swaying to the music with him , falling into step with everyone else.

he pulled you in closer , his expression becoming softer as harry was gone and it was just you.

"why did you want to dance with me?" you asked so softly it was almost a whisper , a low exchange between two unknowingly requited lovers.

"why wouldnt i?" he paused , a so small - it was almost not visible -smile gracing his lips , "youre interesting."

"how so?" you laughed.

he laughed too before replying , "i dont know im..drawn to you. i have been since first year , i guess i just never acted on it till now."

"why?..."

he paused , "well you like potter dont you? and i dont know if you realise this but every guy here wants to be with you , theyre just too scared and i guess i was too."

you looked at him with pure confusion , "i dont not like harry , hes my best friend!"

he laughed , "well considering you left him to dance with me i think i know that now."

you smiled up at him , admiring every feature you hadnt seen before from your distant pining. from his deep brown eyes to how perfect his curls layed on his head , the small scar across his eyebrow and the so faint freckles that you can only see them at this close proximity.

"i think youre interesting too," he smiled at your words as you left the first sign of your requited feelings , "i dont know you well but ive always liked you. at first it was just because youre hot - but now its much more! youre cold to everyone but i can tell youre probably really nice, and youre so passionate during quidditch matches , and youre so smart which is really suprising considering you only show up to the lessons we share- oh. oh!" you rambled as you realised how obvious his signs were this whole time.

he laughed at you a very light pink painting itself across his cheeks , "yeah , oh."

you looked down sheepishly until his soft voice caught your attention again, "well i guess a trip to hogsmeade has been due for quite a while then?"

you grinned at him nodding your head in excitement , "definetly!"

as you and mattheo continued to sway and talk about everything you could think of - harry , ron and hermione stood in the corner of the room.

"fuck off she actually did it!!" ron said in pure suprise.

"ive never seen mattheo riddle smile before," harry commented before turning to a happy hermione , "you owe her five chocolate bars."

[artytaeh]

i'm tempted to write about theodore nott being absolutely high and rambling to reader about their wedding because he CAN'T shut up while he's high.

[kitgeometri]

All main characters same generation fiction!

I just wanted to draw young snumbledore, but I was drawing Elphias Doge.

The second one is note for drawing the school robe.

[gracexthoughts]

of violent delights chap 21

the triwizard tournament

11 october 1996

Mattheo’s POV 

“Hi,” a small voice murmurs from my side and I look down at the ethereal vision that is Mia Potter in the morning. Her green eyes look up at me hazily, a sleepy smile on her lips, her auburn hair messily falling out of the bun she’d worn yesterday. 

“Hi, princess,” I smile, resting my coffee cup and sketchbook on the nightstand before laying back down and pulling Mia over into my arms. Mia hums contently, nuzzling her head into my shoulder. “How’d you sleep?” 

“Good,” she says through a yawn, “You?” 

“Like a baby,” I confirm, my fingers playing with a strand of hair falling out of her bun mindlessly. 

“Do I smell coffee?” She asks, turning so her hand rests on my bare chest and her chin resting over her scar so she can look at me. I nod and reach over to grab the coffee cup and hand it to her. She props herself up on her elbows and takes a sip and sighs happily. “You need to teach me how you make your coffee. Everytime I try it's practically herbal tea,” she says after she finishes the cup and I grab my wand and tap the cup, filling it back up with coffee, just to see the joy and wonder shine in her eyes. 

“The simplest things make you happy,” I chuckle, my knuckles brushing against her cheek. 

“Good coffee goes a long way,” she chuckles, offering me the cup back and I take a long sip before I rest it back on the nightstand. I lay back on the pillows, gazing at the woman in my arms with awe. “What?” 

“Nothing, just… I’m sorry about Elladora,” I respond softly, one arm behind my head and the other fiddling with Mia’s fingers, her nails painted a dark red. 

“Don’t be. I’m used to Lestrange and her venom,” she responds easily, weaving her fingers with mine. 

“You’re gonna realize I’m more trouble than I’m worth soon,” I chuckle, my eyes taking in the sight before me, terrified it's destined to fall apart even though it feels more right than anything has before. 

“I don’t mind trouble,” Mia responds with a soft smile, “It keeps life interesting,” she says, pulling herself up to hover over me. My hands immediately find her waist beneath the scarlet quilt, rubbing circles on her skin with my thumb. 

“Mia…” 

“Don’t,” she says, shaking her head, “Don’t try to talk yourself or me out of this, Matt. No one else matters, except us.” She leans down as her forehead connects with mine, her arms bending so she’s laying directly on top of me. “No one else changes this,” she whispers, her fingers running through my hair. 

“You’re right,” I mutter with a nod and she moves her head back to look at me. 

“I usually am,” she winks with a smile. I smile and pull her closer again; our lips connecting again as I roll us over so I’m on top of Mia, pinning her beneath me. 

“Hm, of course you are, princess,” I say lowly in her ear before my lips trail a line down the soft skin of her neck, the faded smell of perfume and smoke lingering on her skin. Mia lets out a soft gasp, her hands exploring the expanse of my back, sending chills up my spine, and I wish I could stay here in this moment for the rest of my life, this woman in my arms as we ignore the rest of the world. 

✦

Euphemia’s POV

“Hey, can I talk to you?” I ask, twisting my ring anxiously. Fred looks up from some small invention in his fingers, his eyes catching on my hands, and nods. Even though Mrs. Weasley threw away all their order forms and inventions for Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, George and Fred have stayed determined. I sit on the couch and sigh. “I have to tell you something and I don’t want you to get mad at me. Or get even more mad at me than you already are.” Fred’s hands stop fiddling and he looks up again at me, his eyes distant. 

“Let me guess, you and Riddle are officially together,” he says bluntly. He’s always known me better than anyone else, able to read me easily. 

“Yeah… I wanted you to hear it from me first and I know you don’t approve and I also can’t stand that you’re mad at me but I’m also not going to stop seeing him so we need to figure out where we go from here. I know you hate him and you don’t have to like him but I need you to at least try to give him a chance. Just try to tolerate him at least, please. That’s all I’m asking, Freddie. You’re my best friend and I just need you to try because you being mad at me is driving me crazy,” I say, quickly running through all the things I decided I needed to say to him. 

“He’s going to fuck everything up, Mia. Your happiness, your reputation, you-” 

“Well it’s mine to ruin! I’m happy now and I don’t care about what anyone else in the world thinks. It’s not my fault everyone else has unrealistic expectations of me,” I interrupt him, beyond tired of being expected to live up to this perfect, innocent little girl idea everyone wants me to be. 

“This isn’t you!” Fred says, waving his hands wildly. 

“Yes, it is, don’t you see?! For probably the first time in my life this is completely and totally me. What I want, not what’s best for Harry or what I think everyone else wants for me, just what I want. I’m tired, Freddie. I’m tired of doing what I think I’m supposed to do or what everyone else says to.” I say exasperated and pleading with him to understand. Fred watches me for a long moment, his eyes looking at me like I’m an invention he can’t get to work properly. “Just once, I want to do what I want.”

“You really like him, don’t you?” He says finally, his eyes softer than they were before. 

“Yeah,” I say, so quietly it's almost a whisper, “I do.” Fred nods, setting the small box he was working on down and his eyes finally find mine. 

“If he hurts you, George and I will make him pay for it,” he says matter of factly, as if he was commenting on the weather. I can’t help but laugh a little. 

“Harry said the same thing so I’m sure he’d be willing to help if it comes to that,” I chuckle. 

“Good, I think Bill and Charlie will want to pitch in. Ginny too, I’m sure.” 

“I’ll make sure to tell him that he’ll have to answer to the whole Weasley clan if he fucks up,” I smile. Fred laughs and nods, his eyes a little distant for a moment, staring off just to the left of me. “So we’re good? You don’t hate me for-” 

“I could never hate you, Mia. We’re all good. As long as you’re happy,” Fred interrupts me, knocking his shoulder against mine playfully. 

“Thank you… I love you, Freddie,” I say, leaning into my best friend. 

“Love you too, Phe. In a totally platonic, you’re my best friend save George kinda way,” Fred responds with a cheeky grin and we both laugh. 

“Did you guys finally make up?” George asks as he steps off the stairs and comes to sit next to Fred. 

“Yeah, we’re good,” Fred nods with a smile for me. 

“Thank, Godric!” George yells loudly, making everyone in the common room whip around to look at us and the three of us burst into laughter and for the moment. Everything feels normal again as we laugh and the rest of the room shakes their heads at us thinking, Just the twins and Mia making a ruckus again. Life as normal. 

✦

24 october 1996

I sit at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for the Welcome Feast for the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. The Great Hall is decked out with banners of the houses and the Hogwarts crest. An extra table has been added to the hall for the visiting students, one side filled by French students dressed in silk blue robes that cannot be very warm and the other filled with the students of the Scandinavian school who are dressed much more appropriately for the weather. Madam Maxine of Beauxbatons and Headmaster Karkaroff of Durmstrang sit up at the teacher’s table as well as Mr. Crouch from the Ministry of Magic. 

As we eat, talk circles heavily around the tournament but most people are in awe of Victor Krum who came with the Durmstrang entourage. Ron and Harry, in particular, in star struck that the Bulgarian Seeker is in the same building as them for the second time in a season. While my friends are more concerned with the French girls. 

“Man, I’m telling you, they don’t make girls like that at Hogwarts,” Fred says, sparing a smile for the girls at the guest table which sends a small cacophony of giggles into the air. 

“Ugh, really nice,” I scoff and roll my eyes. 

“Just truth telling,” Fred shrugs. 

“Well they certainly don’t make men like Krum at Hogwarts either,” Angelina responds with a smirk, turning over her shoulder towards the Durmstrag students, and George’s face sours. I make eye contact with Alicia and we both fail to stifle our laughter. We all know George and Angelina are whipped for each other, except them, but before either can question Ali and I, Dumbledore stands and holds his hands up for silence. 

“The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the case just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, from the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” Dumbledore motions to Crouch as we clap half heartedly. “Mr. Crouch has helped make the necessary arrangements for each challenge, of which there will be three, spaced out throughout the school year.” 

“So three tasks is the reason we can’t play Quidditch this year?” Angelina mutters and I shrug. 

“Three champions will be chosen, one from each school, to compete in these tasks and will be marked on how they perform and the winner will win the Triwizard Cup,” to which Dumbledore motions back to Crouch who holds up a large trophy that looks similar to the Quidditch Cup we won last year. “The champions will be chosen by an impartial party. The Goblet of Fire!” Dumbledore then motions to his other side where a case, placed by Mr. Filch, sits. Dumbledore waves his hand and the case disappears to show a huge goblet with a massive base making it nearly as tall as the Headmaster himself. Blue flames flicker over the rim as everyone cranes their necks to get a view. 

“Anyone wishing to submit their names must write their name and school on a piece of parchment and drop it into the goblet by dinner on the 31st. After our annual Halloween feast, the choosing ceremony will take place and the Triwizard Tournament will begin!” At this students erupt in cheers and applause. George and Fred share a look and I know they are plotting to put their names forward. “Now, as I have mentioned previously, only students of 19 years and older may put forth their names,” grumbling rumbles through the student body at this. 

“Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There is no turning back. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all!” 

“He loves to leave it all on a cheery note, doesn’t he?” Lee laughs as we exit into the hallway and move to the side, Ang, Alicia, Lee and I waiting on the Twins who got stuck in the crowd. 

“Hey,” a voice whispers in my ear as hands land on my hips and I startle, turning to see Mattheo smirking. 

“You scared me!” I playfully scold, “Didn’t know who the hell was trying to touch me!” 

“Hm, I think most guys here are smart enough not to touch my girl,” Matt says with a proud smirk, and then turns to greet my friends. 

“‘Sup, mate?” Lee says with a smile. Since I talked with Fred, the boys have been much more receptive to Mattheo and his friends. It’s not perfect; George and Theo got into a tiff a week or so ago but they’re trying and that’s all I can ask for.

“I think an aging potion would do the trick, don't you?” Fred says to George as they emerge around the corner.

 “Riddle, you’re good at Potions right?” George asks, seeing Mattheo next to me. 

“Yeah, s'pose so. Why? Cause I don’t tutor,” Matt responds and I elbow him in the side playfully. 

“Theoretically, you could brew an aging potion to only age you a few months, right?” Fred asks, both of the Weasleys looking very intensely at my boyfriend. 

“Don’t rope him into whatever the two of you are up to!” 

“Eh, it’s less about the brewing and more about how much you drink. It’ll be tricky though…” Matt responds with a shrug. 

“Guys, you cannot tell me you’re seriously going to try this hard to get into the tournament?” Alicia asks bewildered. 

“What if they kick you out when they find out you're only 18?” Lee chimes in. 

“You heard Dumbledore,” Fred says. 

“Putting your name is a binding contract. They couldn’t stop you competing if they wanted,” George finishes. 

“Just don’t ask for my help when you realize you made yourself 30,” I chuckle, weaving my hand with Mattheo’s as we climb the stairs towards the Gryffindor Common Room. Lately, Mattheo has been staying in my room more often than his own, not that I’m complaining. And right now, I’m happy as can be in the midst of my friends and boyfriend as they continue chatting excitedly.

A/n; a lot of Dumbledore’s speech is from the books btw but this is kinda filler with some cute morning matt and Mia

taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @abaker74 @stxrsberkshire

[zuochangjing]

How blind can you be,don't you see? ​​​

[wolfstarlibrarian]

I saw the ask and I would love some recs for fireman!Sirius! Thank you for your hard work 🩶

You got it, friend! Thanks for the ask!

🔥 Fireman Sirius 🧑‍🚒

He's Too Hot (Hot Damn) by @NeonDomino Remus just can't seem to cook, and seems to set fire to everything. Sirius is the fireman that turns up each time to put it out.

A rocky rescue by BenettClaire It’s a truth universally aknowledged that if there’s something worse than being stuck in an elevator, it’s being stuck in an elevator with someone afraid of elevators. However, Remus is about to find its perks, too.

The One With The Boyfriend Cleanse by @curlyy-hair-dont-care Dateless on Valentine's day, Remus, Lily and Alice felt they were being haunted by the bad vibes of terrible exes and decided to perform a 'boyfriend cleanse' which might have gone wrong before it set things right.

How Teddy Lupin Became an Amateur Arsonist by moonscone When Teddy meets Sirius, he is immediately smitten. Sirius is cool, he's funny, and he's a fireman! Teddy would do anything to keep someone as brilliant as Sirius in his life. When Sirius and his Da seem to hit it off, the idea is only solidified. Teddy Lupin was going to make Sirius Black his second father, and nothing was going to stop him from achieving his goal.

BONUS: This fic features both of them fighting fires as part of the wizarding war, so not sure if it counts but am including it anyway.

Under a Strange Red Moon by @earlybloomingparentheses A breathy, high-pitched moan, and what is happening, it’s 8 a.m. in their kitchen, Remus is making toast, this is only meant to happen when it’s the middle of the night and they’ve just got back from patching up Muggles or putting out magically-set house fires or battling with a Death Eater who failed to Disapparate quickly enough from the scene of the crime, they’re meant to be frantic and desperate and—Sirius shoves down his panic and surges up to bite Remus’ lips, suck his tongue down his throat, and when are they not desperate and frightened these days?

The war is shattering their world into a million pieces, and Sirius and Remus try to hold themselves together.

[delicrieux]

𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 7. year one: up to mid october, 1972

pairing for this chapter—f!lestrange!reader x sirius black warnings for this chapter—sum swear & sirius being a prat word count—2.5k

a short awaited confrontation and a new friend.

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | ttp masterlist | < back | next >

over the course of the month, it seems that the sight of you has become repulsive to sirius. he could not bear to look at you for more than it took to notice you in the crowd or to recognize your voice echoing before the body belonging to it reached him. he’d flee, usually, and refrain, in a completely un-sirius fashion, from making a gigantic scene. this would have been odd to you if only the pain of seeing his hastily retreating back wasn’t too much.

don’t be so harsh with me please, you’d want to tell him, i’ve done nothing but love you.

instead, “what. is. with. you,” and each word punctuated with an angry smack to his forearm. he glares, and he wiggles out the way of your unrelenting pursuit to beat him into submission. his friends watch frozen, stuck somewhere between amusement and desire to pull sirius back into the safe confines of the gryffindor tower. you will not allow them. not this time, at least, “you stuck up, insufferable—“

“piss off,” he nurses his bruises, though you aren’t strong enough to leave any.

you falter in your step, but the anger doesn’t die. he must know how his look wounds. he must. “piss off?” you parrot, and it rings much smaller and fainter than his had, “piss off? that’s all i get from you?”

“expect something different?” he bites, and bites, and bites, and he maims and mars until there is a thread between your hands and his heart thin as ivory wire. his eyes appraise and they dance and they hate, “why don’t you run back to your regulus.”

ah. there it is. the venom.

“sirius-“ james starts, and both of your glares cut him into two.

“shut up,” the both of you, again, together. you mirror his dark look and try to decide which words of the infinite welling quickly are most fitting. they sink with and through you; an anger and a hurt not meant to be felt by someone so inexperienced. when you and sirius argue, it is never as dire, even if it feels like it was. sirius never starts rows he cannot win, even if it’s him that loses most in the end, “family matter.”

james looks as though he’d rather be anywhere else but in the windy courtyard, shadowed by the cold arches of a loggia. peter, cheeks and ears burning, nervously rubs his hands together to dispel the cold. remus, already, is further ways down and watching, waiting for the rest to catch up. you won’t let them, not yet, not till you say your piece and abandon first, because father said the last word is always the winner.

you speak in french because you know he hates to hear it, because it reminds of home and you know he can’t stand home like he can’t stand you now, and it will hurt him, and it will make you happy, “regulus was right about you. you’ve become unthinkably cruel.”

he curls his lip, and it is with so much spite that it makes your teeth ache. his body rolls into itself, ready to explode and spit up his scorn all over your face. the insult must teeter on his tongue. you're more than ready for it. but something cracks and something flips and he reels back a bit, a show of restraint you thought him absent of.

"yeah, regulus, regulus always knows best, doesn't he?" your french mimicked in his mouth is dense, like syrup, "regulus, darling, regulus," a sneer that draws his lip to the high planes of his cheekbones, and a head tilting movement that is patronizing and obscene. it reminds you of his mother, "your regulus, isn't he the fucking best."

"he's not mine," you state tartly.

"hard to believe when he follows after you like a dog," he bites, and bites, and bites, but even through the layers upon layers, the soreness permeates and leaves you stricken into a stupor that only sirius can create, "listens and does everything you say. can't he think for himself. attached to your shoulder like some blithering pest."

you blink back the anger in your eyes. you are not going to cry, you tell yourself. if you do, then he will win, but he always does.

the boys stare at you. you don't know what to say. the feeling of it is tight and burns like an ulcer, "what has gotten into you? why do you hate me? i haven't-" your lips work through their turmoil, "-i haven't done anything to you."

he waves you off, dismissive. his hands tremble with some unspoken rage. "stop bothering me and go back to regulus. he's probably already looking for you."

the end of the conversation hangs heavily between you. sirius sniffs, and turns away in that blasé manner he always has with him, as if all life were a joke. his posture is too stiff and his features are too cold and he joins remus first as james and peter linger. you shake.

"i, uhm," james begins, but your glare silences him again. slowly, carefully, he nudges peter, "c'mon."

they leave, but james looks back. you miss it, head hung in defeat. your emotions threaten to burst free and splinter all over the stone. you think, in a hurry, how could you ever cover them up – with your hands, your body? is it the aftermath already, where everything is too obvious for pretence?

when it rains, it pours. it always has and you suspect it always will.

*

naturally, you are inconsolable. what a great big joke. no broom closet nor dusty cavern of the castle is familiar enough to hide in, and you cloak, despite its expanse, can hardly protect from sore eyes. the loo it is, locked in some stall and hiccupping. marzipan had mentioned finding a hufflepuff crying not a week in. she thought it amusing, and you did, too – who could ever abate decency and sob in the loo? what a terrible ploy for attention, had the girl expected consolation? no such could ever be found in marzipan, why, she said, and she said it proudly, she laughed quite loud and the crying stopped.

you would die on the spot if someone found you. it would feel like uncovering a horrible secret, being exposed in such a way. aren’t you a grown up? your birthday is soon, on a cold october night. grownups always breathe fine – besides your ditzy aunts – but you find there not being enough air. so much space and so little of it.

you fan yourself, and you heave, and in a tantrum you tussle out your cloak and throw it onto the gleaming white tiles.  your cheeks burn and there’s an ache in the apex of your head. crying like this, over a boy, no less? sirius, of all? rabastan would point and laugh, point and laugh, point and laugh.

there’s a knock on your stall’s door and you nearly topple over in a scurry to silence yourself.

“hi, sorry,” the voice is unfamiliar, but it sounds kind, “are you alright?”

perfect, not only have you embarrassed yourself, you’ve aroused the suspicion of an idiot. there’s a gentle creak on the wood, as if a weight has settled. an ear, perhaps, pressed onto the surface, but for what?

you will your shaky hands to settle by your stomach. the fingers pinch and pool on the woollen fabric of your sweater. you gulp, but it gets stuck, and the silence stretches, so still.

“i-yes,” you manage. this won’t do, the tears cling to your mouth, “i’m, i'm okay.”

“do you need some water?”

if you weren’t so distraught, you’d delight at the curtsy. stupidity must be contagious because you shake your head.

“no, no,” you say after a pause.

“a tissue perhaps?”

“i'm fine,” seems you have managed to locate your wits. from some hellish depths, no doubt. swiftly, you retrieve your cloak, “thank you.”

“’s no worries,” the voice pipes. it belongs to a girl, you think, who doesn't budge, and, instead, waits. it seems your dramatics have riled someone. even the staff would scold your sorry condition, all snot and tears and shaking limbs – quite undignified, "can you tell me why you're crying?"

oh, merlin, how wonderful, the prodding and the poking and the horrible sympathy. are you so pitiable? perhaps. in this state. it's still hard to believe a complete stranger has found themselves so comfortable, "if i say i'm not crying will you go?"

the girl laughs, light and tittering. for a moment, it startles you, too, "not very likely."

the air remains stagnant, as if it's thick and spinning. the echoes of your sniffles bounce along the walls. you could tell her to piss off. you've heard it enough in the span of the last hour.

"i had a fight with my friend," you say eventually, "i think he hates me."

"did you do something to make him hate you?"

your forehead grazes the stall door. it leaves a cold spot and it makes you wince, "no."

"hmm," there is a sound of shuffling and more creaking, "well, then i wouldn't be very worried. he sounds like a dick, and what you need friends like that for?"

a great deal, actually. what did you think you were doing these years, clinging to his arm and curling into his bed when it rains? "what am i supposed to do?"

"beat him up, i imagine, and sort his sorry arse out."

you snort, though not very amused, "tried that."

"good start," you imagine her nodding and crossing her arms, "now, if i were you, i'd hex him into tomorrow and we'll never hear from him again."

"sounds wicked," you lament. the thought has crossed your mind, but revenge crumbles into some mushy, pitiful mess if you think on it too long.

"positively evil," she agrees. the silence returns, but it's comfortable, "i’ve got parchment in case you wanna practice curses."

a corner of your mouth quirks. your chest aches, but it's no longer full and painful, "that's alright, thank you."

"always wanted to be an accomplice," you hear the smile in her voice, "no trouble at all."

a final stretch of quiet. it allows you to breathe, really breathe, and pull yourself into order, as it were. it's no pretty sight, the state of you, but it no longer compares to how you first came in, a crying mess. when you open the stall, and face the girl for the first time, a kind face greets you. her brown skin is flush, hair twisted into two plaited horns that are gathered into a half bun, the rest pinned around her head. your nose twitches, itchy.

she grins, "there you are. no longer crying."

the cold from the running faucet burns against your cheeks. the face that peers back at you from the mirror is dishevelled. red-rimmed eyes and wet splotches all over. you grimace, "look like a sordid mess."

"well, yes, but, like a normal sordid mess. like, almost pretty normal," she stands behind. a red lion's emblem is embroidered into her uniform. she tilts her head, "like, i look way worse when i do it. at least you cry prettily."

"oh, you think so?" you turn to her, "no one's ever said that."

her nose wrinkles, but the mirth isn't gone from her eyes, "well, don't suppose you make a habit of sobbing in front of others. lest you wouldn't have barricaded yourself in the stall."

you hum, "quite the excellent point."

she flashes her teeth and nods proudly, "of course, got many," there's a slight silence where she appraises you, "you're lestrange, right? i've seen you in my classes," she asks as though she knows, and extends her hand for you to shake, "i'm dorcas. meadowes. gryffindor.”

“slytherin,” you respond, but shake her hand anyway.

“can tell,” dorcas says, that same lilt of a smile on her lips, “you wear it with pride.”

yes, of course, because that is what lestrange do. her family name is unrecognizable, but you don't think to wonder on it much further. her eyes are friendly and warm, and she takes to fixing the wayward strands of your hair while you dab a bit of tissue paper to your nose. a few seconds go by, and she glances at you from under the hair fallen onto her forehead, "i still have parchment, and we could still get you those curses down."

"haven't the ink to draw any, unfortunately," you reply.

"hm. next time then," dorcas decides for herself, and makes for the door, "think a walk to the kitchens might be in order?" she leaves her invitation open-ended, her gaze expectant, "could use a warm cinnamon bun."

you wonder about her, dorcas meadowes, with the shiny dark eyes and plaits and how well she talks to strange girls who cry in bathroom stalls. "alright," you accept, the smile on your face not as strained, nor sad, nor angry, "lead the way."

[bookishdreamer28]

Height difference

I hope you'll like it 👐

Mattheo is obsessed with the way his body is towering over yours. He has found himself thinking of how you'd perfectly fit in his arms many times and he can't help but feel his whole body getting hot at the very thought. From the very first moment Theodore introduced you to their group, he was instantly besotted. He was entirely mesmerized by you.

Every time you wanted to grab something that was out of your reach, he was standing closely behind you just to help you, but in reality all he wanted was to feel your small frame against his. And when you look up at him all puppy-eyed, with those eyes, he knew he was down bad already. And he knew he had fallen deeply for you.

He loved teasing you cause your reactions to his teasing were absolutely worthwhile. Seeing your flustered face was something he adored.

-

"How you're doing shorty?" He said in his baritone voice and it took everything in you not to punch the smugness off of his face.

"Stop calling me shorty" you tried look mad and scary with your angry expression but Mattheo wanted to just grab your face and kiss the shit out of you.

"Ok then how about...pixie-"

"NO!" You exclaimed and walked away from him, not being able to stay any longer around his presence but one thing you didn't notice, was Mattheo laughing quietly behind you because he found your walk absolutely adorable.

-

When he gets to hug you, that's when he feels like his heart will burst out. It's the way you snuggle your head in his chest, the way your arms are wrapped around his waist, and the warmth that instantly engulfing him when he feels your heart beating against him. Everything about this feeling is perfect. You just fitted perfectly.

-

His most fave thing about your height difference, is when you tip toe every time you want to kiss him. He's just standing there, the corner of his lips curving upwards displaying a cheeky smile on his face as he watches you struggling while you're trying to give him a kiss.

"You know you can lean down a bit right? I can't do all the work here" you frowned as you looked up at him. He pinched you cheek softly and traced his thumb in soft circles there.

"Yeah but you have no idea how adorable you l- ouch!" You slapped his hand.

"Now, don't make me bend your head down here by force"

"I would gladly let you love" he chuckled and you smirked as you placed your forehead on your palm, sighing.

"Enough with the teasing Riddle, now kiss me" you looked up again, waiting for his lips to finally crush on yours. He felt his heart pounding like crazy against his chest.

He laughed and instead of leaning his head down, he crouched down and scooped you up into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and he placed one hand under your thigh and the other around your waist. Kissing you was earth-shattering. The fieeling of your soft lips locking with his, was something he has been craving for so long.

Once you pulled away, you expected him to put you down but he still held you tight against him.

"Will you put me down now?" You tried to fight back a smile as you felt his hold becoming a bit tighter, his locked on you the whole time.

"Nope, I love having you like this love" he murmured against your lips and you giggled as you once again captured your lips together in a kiss which caused your eyes to flutter close and enjoy the feeling.

Thank you for reading!!

[mphountitled]

COULD U DO MATTHEO X F READER DURING HER OVULATION WEEK AND SHES SUPER NEEDY AND HORNY? (Pls I’m ovulating and craving ur fics so bad babe😭🙏🧎🏼‍♀️)

I love how feral this is lmfao -

𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐬 | 𝐌.𝐑.

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, Dark Fic, Violence, Language, Mention of drugs and alcohol, Slight fluff, Public Affections, Possessiveness, Smut (+18), Dirty Talk, Touch starvation, Fingering, Humping, Grinding, Whining, Sub/Dom Undertones, Blood Kink, Fighting Kink?, Squirting, Major Degradation, Praise Kink, Breeding Kink, Slight Humiliation Kink

The night is deep, and the dungeon is dim as a few sunken eyes peer curiously at you while you make your way through the crowd. Seeing you emerge from within the walls of your private dorm room was a rare and curious sight for everyone involved. It was especially rare for you to embed yourself amongst your fellow pupils shenanigans, seeing yourself as above such baseless devilment.

You were not here for them.

You were scanning the crowd for him because an unfamiliar warmth had been festering inside your stomach and it had propelled your feet forward, until you reached the very centre of the Slytherin soiree commencing in the common room.

Your core is still aching with the after affects of your fingers as you manoeuvre your way through the party. You were touching yourself under satin sheets only moments ago-spurred on by the imaginings of his bloodied fingers slipping inside you, stabbing your cunt until you mewled like a useless whore and he affirmed you as such. His recklessness and delinquency cracked something vital in your brain and you felt yourself get wetter as you pushed through the crowd. You needed him to touch you, your body practically burned for him to absolutely ruin you, and you set out to do just that.

Although you had turned down a concoction of Firewhiskey from an already inebriated Ravenclaw student, your stomach burns with the anticipation of seeing him.

Feeling him.

Smelling his near constant fragrance of Firewhiskey along his lips. You were never clingy but you wished for nothing more than to be in the presence of your insufferable and clingy boyfriend.

A month into your courtship, and you had failed to bring up how much of his habits bypass all sensibilities in your brain. If only he knew how much his recklessness brought about an unmistakable moisture in between your thighs. That,coupled with his bruised and bloody knuckles, spurred on your need, especially during this time of the month.

It had been easy to maintain your composure throughout the rest of the month, effortless, even. Detachment and independence was a by-product of your personality, showing up in the way you shied away from Mattheo's public affections and always appearing uninterested in any of his verbal charms.

One such occasion; you had found him taking up purchase on your bed after an incredibly tiresome day as a Slytherin prefect.

"Make yourself scarce, Riddle. I'm not in the mood," He, of course, was delighted in your indifference- truthfully, he basked in it. Mattheo was somewhat of a masochist, craving the attention of someone so emotionally detached. The very second he noticed how unaffected you appeared with his shenanigans. He might as well have transfigured into a mermaid, because he was hooked.

"How easy you are to repel my affections," He said, letting a bandaged hand fall on his chest as he lay supine like a starfish on your Satin sheets, "How swiftly you deny my companionship-"

"Dont you have any orphans to torture?"

You mourn the past you... how indifferent she had been.

How utterly in control!

The bed dipped as he slithered closer, letting a hand rest on your shoulders as he began to knead the tense muscle there.

"Don't I get a 'How was your day, Riddle?' How did you sleep, Riddle? How did you acquire these bruises, Riddle, and I hope you looked hot doing it, Riddle" it was then that you glanced at the hand on your shoulder. Busted knuckles bred bloodied and broken skin. Riddle's hand was a smorgasbord of cuts and bruises that disappeared up his black, cotton sleeve shirt. You ignored the useless warmth knotting in your core as you continued to undo your shoelaces.

"I needn't ask you because I know you were in the centre of yet another degenerate fight," you had said, burying all the feelings of need amongst your usual, scholarly distractions.

"You love it"

"I hate it actually. It makes me question my affiliation with you.

"You say that princess, but you secretly love it"

You did love it, and right now, distracting yourself is not an option. You watch with bated breath as the object of your affections walks into the Slytherin common rooms. There are plenty of bodies swaying in the dungeons illuminated by various Ravenclaws who have casted Lumos

You see Riddle across the room, head thrown back while he nursed a cup of Firewhiskey. When his head comes back, he sees you too, he raises his cup and he pushes himself off the wall to lessen the distance between you. Your legs certainly achieve a quicker gait as you push past the swaying bodies and soon enough you're bombarded by firewhiskey, with an undercurrent of sweat and leather.

The second you’re close, Riddle lowers his cup on the desk, already having his explanations ready for the impending combat. "If you think I'm gonna let you take my freedom away again, you’re fucking crazy. I'm barely buzzed and I'm getting drunk, or high by the end of this night and there's nothing you-" But your fist is already digging into the softness of his button up shirt and your lips are open as you force them onto his.

Right there, in the open.

Mattheo is naturally stunned, possibly discombobulated.

Had he really gotten higher than he thought?

Did that fucking Hufflepuff make him a stepped on joint?

Frankly, he couldn't care less, and as the shock of it all wore down, and he could feel you begin to slip away, Mattheo slithers his battered hand around your waist and pulls you impossibly close. He smirks into the kiss, as he brings his hand up, fingers gliding across your collarbone, while the other hand lingers around your waist.

"What happened to your hand?" It is a question that threatens to burst the bubble established between the two of you. Why would you ask him this? Why would you bring him back to the events of earlier today when you were so prettily malleable in his hands right now?

"Nothing,"

"Matt..." You say, clouding your words with innuendo, which has him looking up at you with furrowed brows.

"Nott," Is all he says before he buries himself in the crook of your neck. His proximity awakens something animalistic inside of you, it pushes you to the depths of your lascivious desires and has you melting right there on the dance floor. All around you, fellow Slytherins continue to sway to the beat, letting the thrum of the enchanted muggle music speak for them. You throw your head back, gasping at the overwhelming need pooling in your core as Riddle begins to send reckless kisses down your collarbone, all while you imagine beating another guy silly. You blame your cycle. You blame your body. You blame every single hormone responsible for allowing you to emit such a wanton moan so openly in the very centre of a crowd.

"Who do I have to kill in order to get this reaction out of you everyday?" Mattheo is panting, with his hazel eyes dilated (whether from pleasure or substance, you might never know). Who do I have to curse in order to get you to be this slutty for me every single day?" His breathing is shallow and audible, even through all the noise. Mattheo's mind is foggy and the party guests are reduced to a memory. The only image he's able to conjure up is his lips between your wet folds - his tongue eager to find the source of your need while you moaned above him and kneaded your own breasts in a slutty haze.

"I need you, Mattheo," it was fucking infuriating to admit but the wetness has completely soaked through your underwear and a fresh scar is present in the corner of Mattheo's eye. There's a slight red smudge under his nose, and his knuckles are red and angry at the best of your neck, cradling your head close to his.

"Say that again-"

"What? No, I will not fucking-"

Mattheo's grip on your neck immediately unhooks and he detangles your limbs but before he ventures any furthers you're pulling him down to you and with your lips to Mattheo's greedy ears you angrily mutter, "I fucking need you. I need you really badly,"

He stares in your desperate, dark eyes with wonder and awe before letting your wrist be enclosed by his iron grip. Soon, you're being dragged through a Slytherin party with a boy adjusting the front lf his pants and barking orders at the drunken strangers to move before they fucking died.

Just as you succeed in cutting through the crowd a voice stops both of you in your tracks.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, Riddle," the voice booms from over the thumping bass of whatever muggle music was enchanted over the dungeon. Mattheo's gaze cuts away from you, but before he turns completely away, a slow Cheshire cat grin curls at the ends of his lips.

"That threat has grown so unimaginably tedious after years of overuse, Theo but I can't do this right now-" His sentence has already been cut short by an audible blow to his lower jaw. Theo Nott blocked your path towards the darkened hallway, leading to your dorm room and you're left wholly unsatisfied as Mattheo is sent barreling backwards. He lets go of your hand, stopping to wipe the wetness at the corners of his lips and checking to see if it's blood. It is. And something scratches inside of you.

The Prefect inside you wants to intervene but an even darker part of you tells you not to.

Theo is livid, and his wide chest rises and falls as he descends on Mattheo,

"Why the fuck am I being told by Draco of all people, that I can't play Keeper because I'm stuck in the hospital wing-"

"Theo, I really don't have the time for this-" Mattheo begins, but Theo cuts him short,

"Are you trying to steal my fucking place, Riddle?"

Mattheo's voice is leveled as he raises his fingers and says, "Okay, first off, yeah, I am. Obviously I'm trying to take your place. You're a shit Keeper and secondly, I've got somewhere to be," Theo's barreling towards Mattheo once more.

A silly, borderline maniacal smirk explodes on Riddle's face before he makes the shotgun decision to charge and lands a punch at Theo's jaw, allowing for the taller boy to stagger backwards. Your shoulders jump, and you flinch at the sickening sound as you watch with a wide gaze as Mattheo nurses his hurt hand. Theo is a raging bull, but Draco appears from the crowd, with a firm grip on Theo's shoulder. A stern, quiet reprimand.

At the exact same moment, Mattheo's hand finds yours and he smirks as he stalks past Nott, wiping away at his chin as he leads you towards your dorm.

The quietness within is almost jarring compared to the noise out there and as soon as the door closes, Mattheo's lips descend on your neck, "I know, I know," He sighs heavily, as he brings his hand up to your shoulder, "I’m sorry. I just hope I haven't ruined the vibe-"

"I want your fingers inside me, Riddle." He stills at your quiet command, and you leave him standing by the door as you pad over to your bed. "I don't know why, but I just need you, okay? And my own fingers aren't quite doing the trick and I keep thinking about how fucking crazy you are and-", You sigh as you sit at the foot of the bed. Lifting the skirt of your dress, Mattheo watches in the dimness of your room as you venture your fingers under your dress and hook them into your panties. He walks towards you, propelling the wings of the butterflies in your stomach.

All he says is, "Which hand?" He doesn't know why he asks, but he does and his voice is barely above a whisper as he hopes you pick the right answer. His cock twitches in his underwear at the thought of seeing his blood on your skin.

Mattheo stops in between your legs, causing the fabric of the dress to rise while a breeze drifts over your soaked pussy. You bend forward and reach for his bloodied hand.

"I want your fingers inside me,"

Mattheo's resolve immediately snaps and his hands grip tightly at your hips, pushing you backwards and exposing your wet core to him.

"You're fucking dripping through the sheets like a slut- you're a fucking slut,"

Excitement. It rushes through you like a wave of magma at the neediness in his own voice.

Matheo rushes to rid both of you of the excess fabric, casting Evansco, until all he can see is your warm, glistening skin.

"Oh my fuck-" Mattheo's voice cracks as he stares down at your aching cunt, his fingers almost instinctively rubbing over the wetness.

"Touch your breasts," He commands, "I wanna see you do it,"

Your eyes pierce into his dark ones as you bring a shaky hand up towards your puckered nipples. The smallest brush elicits a violent streak of pleasure which would have occupied your entire mind were it not for Mattheo's long fingers already stabbing into your dripping cunt.

"Fuck, you're so wet," He whines, unconsciously burying his hips into the sheets at the foot of your bed as he watches. He is utterly transfixed by his middle and ring finger disappearing into your cunt. Every time they sink deeper your mind gets filled with images of Riddle's unrest and violence. You're utterly wrecked with the thought of his bloodied fingers being inside you, touching the most private parts of you.

"Pick up the pace, Riddle,"

"Shut the fuck up," He mumbles as he takes his time in exploring the very depths of you. Your voice soars to higher octaves as you feel your first orgasm cresting quite literally against your will. How utterly embarrassing, to cum so quickly.

"You're fucking squeezing my fingers- fuck-" You're desperately humping at his hand, hoping your hips might achieve the feat of sinking his fingers further into you. "You're humping my hand so fucking well." His cock aches as he continues to grind it into the sheets, in tandem with your swollen cunt taking his fingers.

"Are you seriously going to cum so soon? Are you that desperate to get fucked-" Your cunt spasms around his fingers and you're moaning as you squeeze your sensitive breasts, already soaring to the heights of your orgasm. Your screams rival the music outside but Riddle never tells you to keep quiet, instead he watches with hungry eyes as your body melts into its orgasm.

"Look at what the fuck you've done," Mattheo's words have you slowly coming back to earth, but not quite... his voice is heavy with lust as you raise yourself by your elbows. Your stomach sinks as you watch Mattheo, he's frozen in front of you, with his head lowered and his gaze on his palm.

"I-I'm sorry-" Your sheets were soaked with your release, leaving a visible damp spot. You squirted everywhere.

"You're gonna do that on my cock," before you can comprehend your words Mattheo already has his cock positioned at your wet folds.

"I'm going to fucking cum inside you and you're going to take it, yeah?" The serious shadow in his darkened eyes hold no room for negotiation, you'd never seen Mattheo quite this serious because seriousness just didn't run in his bloodstream. However, he's utterly ruined by your neediness, needing to take advantage of your compliance before it slipped through his fingers.

"Oh my fuck- Mattheo!"He pulls your hips towards the edge of the bed and his cock forces itself through your folds, until Mattheo is quite literally fucking you with reckless abandon.

"Matt- I can't-'' You're still riding on the sensitivity of your previous high and you think Mattheo could be a little mindful of this but his goal, it seems, is to leave you overstimulated.

"You can," he mumbles, with his eyes squeezing shut before he quickly opens them, wanting to see every emotion flowing over your face.

"You're a slut but you're not a useless slut, are you?" You tits bounce with every movement of Mattheo's hips, and you're shaking your head despite the fog. Your cunt is squeezing the life out of his cock and you feel him pushing at a very sensitive part of you.

Your head is buried in the pillows as your back arches and you swallow him deeper.

Mattheo bends forward, his hips quickening into a needy, restless rut as his teeth sink into the skin around your nipples.

"FUCK-" The pain bleeds into pleasure which streams into your next orgasm. Riddle moans around your skin, suckling at your nipple while he fucked you like he is as touch starved as you are.

"I'm cumming, Matt-" The fact that you're still able to form words is a complete and utter mystery because, not a second later, you're exploding around his cock. A gushing, clear liquid rushes through you while your lips chant his name like a prayer.

"I'm going to fucking breed you, baby- oh fuck, you're so pretty squirting around my cock-" the cracks in his voice; the desperation laced on every word has him cumming inside you, pushing his hips with every spurt of warmth.

You're still shuddering when Mattheo slumps over you. You're both huffing and puffing and basking in each other's release with his cock still very much inside you. "You're getting a contraception potion from Madame Pomfrey tomorrow," you can do nothing except nod as your satisfaction settles.

"I'll come with you," He says.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Wildest Dreams

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: harassment, non-consensual touching (non-sexual), insecurities

When you hear the door to the classroom swing open, slam into the wall, and as if on cue a chorus of laughs resound around the room, you know it's James and his imbecile friends.

Your lips thin into a tight-lipped smile as you send Marlene an exhausted look.

"Gentlemen," Slughorn drones on as he turns to look at the boys, who comedically trip over themselves to find their spots in the crowd of students, "You're late." 

"Evidently, Professor." Sirius Black quips and nudges his shoulder into James. The latter smirks.

James has somehow found his way next to you. He hasn't done it on purpose but when he turns his head and sees you beside him, his smirk turns into a wide smile.

A smile that never fails to make your knees shake and your heart feel like it could explode.

"Y/n," James whispers. 

"Hi Potter," you roll your eyes, hiding a smile behind faux frustration.

You and James aren't friends. Well, unless you counted the years from ages four to eleven, when you had been inseparable. You'd grown apart these last years and while you'd cried over your lost friendship in first year, you had decided it was for the best to distance yourself from him anyway. 

Having a crush on your best friend is incredibly cliché.

Still, although you weren't friends in the same way as you had been, James has always been kind to you.

He says hello to you when he sees you in the hallway. You have had pleasant conversations in passing, and when his family occasionally has yours over – for old times sake – you both sit on the balcony outside his window and talk as if nothing has changed. 

You shift away from James a little, feeling too close to him, and cross your arms. You turn your attention to Slughorn as he clears his throat and lifts the lid from the pot, "Very well then,"

His sentence is drowned out by the soft, delicate smell that fills the room. You pin-point the scent of broom-polish immediately. Rosemary, vanilla, bergamot and cedar. Your expression falls. Bergamot and cedar. Your head spins and you wonder if James put on too much cologne this morning or if — 

Your mind suddenly goes completely blank when you feel James's breath against your ear, uttering exactly what you had been wondering, but this time about you, "Hey, did you put on more perfume than usual? I can smell it from here," his voice is teasing and you feel just a little fainter than you already had been. 

"Amortentia," Slughorn interrupts, "The most powerful love potion to exist. It smells differently to everyone, depending on what attracts them — or sometimes who attracts them," He continues on, explaining the dangers of the potion, but you aren't listening anymore. 

You look up. James has gone quiet and he's staring at the bubbling liquid, a vacant look in his eyes. Your heart clenches and you turn your head, inclining it down. You must have heard him wrong. James must have been confused.

A pit forms in your stomach when James moves away from you, leaving your side feeling empty. You hear him laugh with Remus and your hand squeezes around your arms. 

You hadn't worn any perfume this morning.

"Hey, Y/n/n," You're pulled from your thoughts when William, another Gryffindor, comes up from behind you and shoves into your shoulder so he's standing next to you.

"I knew I'd smell someone as hot as you in there," He teases, leaning in close. "Just like fucking vanilla," Williams brings his hand into your hair, twirling some strands in his fingers as he presses his nose close to your temple and inhales. 

"Hey," You move your head away, feeling disgusted. William just barks out a laugh and his arm extends to grab yours. Suddenly, you're almost pushed to the side when James stands in front of you and shoves William away. The boy bumps into the cauldron and the Amortentia spills all over the floor. 

"All three of you," Slughorn suddenly booms, his cheeks flushed crimson, "McGonagall. Now."

So you find yourself standing in the middle of James and William in McGonagall's office. The older woman is sitting at her desk, her arms crossed as she stares at you all from behind her small glasses. She looks at William first considering his shirt is drenched in the thick liquid from the Amortentia, "What happened?"

"Potter shoved me," Williams states quickly, glaring at James.

"And I'd do it again," James snarls, crossing his arms. 

McGonagall looks utterly exhausted at their bickering and turns her attention to you. "What about you, Miss Y/l/n, care to explain what happened?"

William sends you a dark look, but when you look at James his expression is soft. "William made me uncomfortable in class and when James saw, he accidentally shoved him into the Amortentia and it spilled all over."

"It wasn't an accident! He did it on purpose!" William argues like a child and James sends him a knowing smirk.

"Oh yeah, the shove was intentional," he grins wolfishly, "Although, I didn't mean to knock the potion over, Minnie," James looks over at McGonagall and this time he looks a little sheepish. McGonagall just stares at him as if he has gone insane and then she looks at you.

"You can leave, Miss Y/l/n," she says and looks back at the boys and hums, "You two may not."

You glance at James a little nervously but he sends you a reassuring smile. So, you ignore William's loud complaining and thank McGonagall as you walk out of her classroom.

* * *

A few hours later, when you're walking out of the Great Hall after dinner, you and your friends run into James again. He's also with his friends, leaning against the wall, and they're laughing obnoxiously loud.

However, when James sees you his smile widens. "Ladies," he says, crossing his arms cheekily.

"Gentlemen," your lips curl into a smirk as you nod at Sirius, Remus, and Peter. James tilts his head at his friends, his expression quirking almost as if he's annoyed that you mentioned them and not him. 

"You feeling okay?" James asks. 

You stare at him, trying to understand exactly what he means.

Does he really care or is he only asking because he's in trouble because of you. Is it mocking?

You start to overthink and James can sense it. So, he moves a little closer to you and you can smell his cologne. It sends heat creeping up your neck.

He asks again. "After what happened with William," he whispers, "when he made you uncomfortable. Are you okay?" James looks genuine and you see his hand hesitating to touch your arm.

You look up at him, staring into his eyes, "O-Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I was just - I didn't think anyone would have smelt me in that potion," you laugh, rambling because that's what you do when you're nervous. You can see James's expression shift into a small smile.

"You'd be surprised," he says, rubbing his nape, "Hey, can we talk in private? I wanted to ask you something?"

Once you say yes, you find yourself in a small, empty, classroom with James. You lean against a desk, hand gripping the edge as you stare at him. "What's up?" you ask. James has never asked you to talk like this.

"My mum is having one of her family dinners for Christmas," James starts, "I wanted to invite you, personally," he adds, as if he's been rehearsing. 

Usually, his mother will invite yours and then by proxy you'll show up. But, this is different. "You want me to come?" your eyebrow raises in confusion, "Personally?"

"Yeah," he sounds unsure, "I mean we're friends, right?"

Is that what we are, you want to ask him but you don't. "I didn't think we were friends anymore," You say honestly and James's expression falls.

He fiddles with his hands nervously but walks closer until he's directly in front of you. You lean away from him and into the desk, chin tilted up to look at him. 

"I'm an idiot," he whispers, looking at you intensely, "I shouldn't have let you slip out of my hands like that. I, well, miss you, a lot."

You listen to him with harsh breaths, trying to understand where this all comes from and why now.

James's hand reaches out and hovers over your cheeks until he holds you and brings you closer to his face. Your eyes round. You're so sure he'll kiss you with how close you are and by the way he's looking at you. You don't have time to make up your mind if you'd want to kiss him or not, because instead, he guides your cheek to his chest and his arms wrap around you. 

He crushes you into a hug. 

Your breath escapes you in a sigh, "James?"

"Y/n," he says your name smoothly and soothes a hand down your hair, "You smell like vanilla and cinnamon. With just a hint of freshly-mowed grass, probably because whenever I see you after a Quidditch match you always have some grass in your hair, right here," James says in a whisper and his finger traces behind your ear.

"Usually from a small tumble," he adds, "You're so clumsy sometimes."  

You pull away only to have him hold you closer. 

"I can't keep pretending I don't think about you," he admits and that sends all emotions crashing over you. You stare at him, lips parted and eyebrows creased, as you try and understand the meaning behind the words. "I smelt you in the Amortentia," James admits.

"You smelt me? You're joking."

James suddenly frowns and he watches as you practically try and sink into the desk behind you. He can take a hint and he moves away. "What? No?" 

You feel your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. "You aren't joking?"

James's face softens and he smiles. "Of course I'm not – I smelt you and also your perfume which," his smile turns into a smirk, "I can tell you aren't wearing right now." James chuckles happily, his eyes crinkling in the corners and your heart flutters. "Merlin I gave myself away in that classroom, didn't I, love?" 

Your insides become mush at the nickname and you find yourself nodding. 

James looks at you fondly even when he says, "I understand if you don't feel the same. If I'm not the boy you like or a boy you want. I have been a foolish ass for the majority of our time here at school. I've ignored you and worse than that, I let myself forget how lucky I was to have you as my friend and I'm so sorry."

As you hear his words, you can feel tears brim in your eyes. James's fond smile disappears and he starts to panic. "Hey, hey, hey!" his hands cup around your cheeks without even thinking. "I don't want to make you cry, love. Y-you're okay," he promises frantically. 

James is so close. His cologne has invaded your senses until you can't think clearly. All you can do is lean in closer until your nose brushes his. James is surprised but when he looks into your eyes, his body relaxes as he understands what you want. You like to think it's all the years you were friends that makes it so easy for James to understand.

"You want me to kiss you?" he whispers, his voice husky and low.

You feel warm all over as his arm slides behind you and he holds your lower back, waiting for a yes so he can pull you closer. You nod, smiling. You wonder if I have to tell him he's the one you smelled in the potion or if he'll understand by the way you kiss him. 

James's lips press onto yours. He's testing the waters, making sure he's not moving too quickly or too slowly. You let your hand find his hair as you pull him closer. James's hand wraps around you and in the passion, he hoists you up onto the desk behind you and you pull him in.

You kiss him like you've never kissed anyone and it takes your hand on his chest to snap James back into reality. He gently disconnects your lips and leans his forehead on yours.

His eyes are still closed when he says, "Shh, we have all the time in the world. I don't plan on letting you slip away from me again, Y/n," he says it like a promise. Like a prayer. 

Finally, you speak, "James. I missed you," you admit in a whisper. 

James holds you closer. "I missed you more. You don't know how much you mean to me." 

You laugh, feeling how close he is and how badly he doesn't want to drop your hand. "I think I can guess," you say teasingly.

James shakes his head. "My love goes beyond any words I could possibly muster." 

You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. "Since when is James Potter such a hopeless romantic?" 

James grins, his hand sliding down to your thigh as he draws soothing circles on your skin, "He's always been a romantic, darling. He just hasn't had the chance to show you," he whispers and quickly kisses the tip of your nose. 

"Well, he can start now," you smile.

James nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. "So, does this mean that we're friends again?"

You pull away and send him a playful look. "Can this mean we're more than friends now?"

James looks into your eyes and deep in his brown ones, you can see his sincerity, "We'll be whatever you want, love," he says. He hugs you close and your face is buried in his neck. You sniff, your smile widening.

You whisper into his neck, "Bergamot and cedar."

James chuckles, still holding you, "What was that, love?"

"Nothing," you smile, simply content with holding him. 

[mrsriddlenott]

~ Costume? That’s Barley Clothes.~

Theo Nott x fem!Reader

[masterlist]

Summary: Malfoy!Reader who’s annoyed that they can’t be Theo’s date to the Halloween party dresses up to get his attention and ends up with more than one set of eyes on her. This is kinda short, I just wanted a Halloween themed oneshot.

Warnings:Possessive Behavior,Jealousy, Secret Relationship,Toxic(ish)Theo,Smut,Choking, Creampie.

“Baby, you know I’d go with you if it were up to me. I thought he wouldn’t be there I’m sorry.” Theo was annoyed to say the least, not only did his plan fail miserably, but you also seemed to blame him for it. The only reason he even wanted to go to this stupid party was for you, but of course Draco just had to decide last minute he wanted to go after all.

“I’m sorry, I know you wanted to dress up but he’s not gonna sit this party out.” You just eyed the much taller boy, he hadn’t put on his costume yet and could easily decide to stay with you but, “He’d get suspicious,” like it would be the end of the world if Draco knew. All you could do was roll your eyes with a sigh, laying down on your bed with a book as Theo watched you.

“Are you gonna say anything?” You just huffed at him, meeting his eyes for a second before returning to pretending to read your book, “If Draco found out I ditched the party he’s gonna come looking, and if he finds he in his little sister’s dorm he’d throw a fit.” You slammed your book shut, crossing your arms with furrowed brows before eyeing him from where you sat.

“His little sister huh?” You were frustrated, you couldn’t tell what he wanted anymore. One minute he’d be calling you his sweetheart, future wife and mother of his children, and the next he’d barley look at you, laughing in the Common Room from jokes Draco makes at your expense. “Just go to your party, I’m not some little kid who’s gonna cry without your attention for an hour,”

You huffed as his jaw clenched, eyeing you with a flash of anger, “I didn’t say you were a little kid, It’s just that if D-“

“Yeah I know if Draco finds out you’re in trouble,” You sighed as you rolled your eyes, slipping off your bed and leaving Theo trailing you with his darkening eyes, “I’m gonna take a shower, have fun at the party.”

Theo grumbled to himself as he left your dorm, slamming the door behind him as hard as he could just as you slammed the bathroom door. You sighed to yourself as you stared into your mirror, you weren’t just gonna sit out on your last Hogwarts Halloween party with Theo and he should have known that. You quickly threw on your costume and did your makeup light, wanting the glittery cat ears on your head to be the center of attention.

You wore a small black dress that could honestly barley be called a dress, paired with black heels that would bring your height to only a couple inches under Theo. You let your hair fall straight behind your shoulders, holding it back with the cat-ear headband, black eyeliner bringing out the color of your eyes with classic red lipstick drawing attention to your lips. You decided for no bra to let the dress hug your figure entirely, pulling it all together with a tight black belt adorned with a sleek black cat’s tail.

Goosebumps covered your skin as you made your way up the stairs to the packed Slytherin Common Room. A haze of smoke flitted over the various packs of dancing and conversing students while you made your way through to Draco and his friends usual spot.

Your skimpy black cat costume was basic, but a classic that was sure to drive Theo crazy. Your eyes met his as soon as the crowd parted to let you through to the group, leaving almost immediately to rake his eyes across your body as you approached. However you completely ignored him, walking up to Draco and announcing your presence before slipping away to get a drink, feeling Theo’s dead eyes stare into your back as you did so.

You hastily filled a glass with spiked punch and leant against the table with a sigh as the lanky figure of Lorenzo Berkshire approached the drink table only a few feet away from the group,“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight,” You eyed his loose button up and black jeans, he wasn’t wearing costume and if he was you had no clue what it was but you didn’t mind. He’d do.

“I wasn’t planning to at first,” You lied, turning to fully face the tall brunette, feeling Theo’s burning gaze on you both now, “But since it’s all you guy’s last year I figured I should come to as many parties as possible this year, don’t you agree?”

You maintained eye contact with Enzo as you lightly bit your lip, watching his eyes fall to watch it bounce back in place before meeting yours again. His eyes lingered in yours for a second as a smile slowly grew on his face. “I’m gonna be honest here, I thought you and Theo might’ve had something going on.” Enzo’s voice was low and intoxicating as he inched closer to you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Theo zoning in on the words spoken between you and his friend with a clenched jaw, no longer trying to hide his annoyance.

You laughed sweetly at up at Enzo as he eyed you with his bloodshot gaze, “Theo? He’s just my brother’s best friend Lorenzo, why would there be anything going on between us?” You had to make an effort to keep your eyes on the lean boy in front of you as his hand found it’s way to your waist, he tugged you closer to him slightly just as the shadow of Theodore Nott engulfed you.

“Walk away Enzo.” The boy in front of you retreated with raised hands and a mocking smile, sending you a wink that made you giggle as he slipped into the crowd, much to Theo’s dismay. Theo’s large hand took in your wrist as he tugged you toward the boys’s dorms. “Aren’t you afraid Draco will see you leave with me Teddy?”

You forced the most sincere voice you could muster, poking out your lip in a dratamatic pout as he turned to you with daring eyes, “I don’t fucking care.” He spat, tugging you into his dorm room before slamming the door shut behind you both.

“What the fuck are you wearing first of all?” Theo snapped, turning to meet your eyes as he loosened the tie around his neck with a huff. You looked down at your dress then back to him with your eyebrows furrowed before simply saying, “A costume.”

“A costume?” He chuckled, poking his tongue into his cheek as he eyed your body again, “That’s barely clothes.” Theo sighed, eyes dead and set into yours before eyeing your outfit again, though this time he didn’t seem to have a problem with it at all.

“It’s the same thing I would have been wearing if you came with me,” You huffed, crossing your arms with a roll of your eyes before meeting his gaze again with a challenging stare.

“That’s different, I’d have been with you.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he spoke, taking in his sentence with a laugh and shake of your head. “So maybe you should have come with me?”

“I would have if it weren’t for your annoying ass brother,” He snapped, stepping closer as you stood your ground in front of his bed. “Speaking of which, I’m just Draco’s best friend now? Last time I fucking checked not all of Draco’s best friends get to fuck you almost every weekend,” He shouted, his eyes bore directly into yours but you didn’t waver. He didn’t scare you and he knew that, but you both knew you probably should have feared him a little.

“Well I guess I could change that couldn’t I, Enzo seemed rather eager, maybe I’ll start with him.” You laughed, biting at your lip and going to turn around before feeling Theo’s large hands dig into your arms, turning you to face him as he shoved you into the end post of his bed.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” His voice was strained, clearly hurt by your jab but you didn’t care, though you probably should have. “Or what?” Your voice dripped with desire as his face edged closer to yours, your thighs clenching together subconsciously and before your knew it his lips were on yours in a hungry kiss. His hands fell to your waist as yours wrapped around to meet in his hair, tugging at it to egg him on as he lifted you just to toss you on his bed.

“You’re a fucking brat.” He growled, crawling up your body as his eyes dug into you before smashing his lips back against yours. Face paint and lipstick smeared together, ending up in each other’s mouths as your teeth clattered together. “Now I’m gonna have to teach Enzo a lesson on who he can and cannot touch because of you.” He whispered into your mouth making you shiver and sending a rush of warmth directly to your core.

Theo’s lips and teeth worked down your neck, nipping at it and leaving a trail of bruises in their wake as his hands worked to push up your dress. You fumbled with his belt, the metal clinking together loudly as you tugged it off of him and tossed it aside before eagerly unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down. Theo quickly moved your panties to the side, lining himself up and meeting your gaze for consent with hooded eyes before filling you up entirely.

He immediately set a ruthless pace, staring into your eyes as he groaned and grabbed at your neck, “If your eyes leave mine you don’t get to come until I say so, understand?”

Your thoughts jumbled together as Theo hit your g-spot over and over, working overtime just to form the word “yes” while Theo picked up his pace. He kept one hand gripping your neck tightly as the other held onto your hip with a brutal grip. “You’re mine Baby, I don’t fucking care who knows anymore. You are mine.” He growled, mostly speaking to himself as he lost himself in your soft walls.

You moaned up at him as you dragged your nails down his toned back pulling a groan from him before wrapping your legs entirely around him and trapping him between them. Theo began speaking Italian down to you, still fucking into you while watching your face intently, you couldn’t understand a single thing he was saying making you glow bright red as he chuckled down to you.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous.” He muttered as his hips smacked against yours repeatedly, filling the room with the obscene combination of the smack of skin mixing with your moans and the creak of the bed drowning out his whispers of praise. “You feel so fucking good baby, I’m gonna fucking cum. Can I fill you up Baby?”

You moaned his named loudly as he tugged you closer to him by your neck, stealing your breath as you desperately mumbled a yes into his mouth. His hips snapped into yours faster as his hand fell between your legs, fingers finding your clit immediately to pull out your orgasm. You clenched around Theo as he hissed and sped of his thrusts, driving into you harder as he stuttered and moaned loudly. Your name repeatedly falling from his lips as he came deep inside of you pushing you over the edge, you clamped around him while your legs shook and your head became cloudy only being able to think of Theo as he fell on top of you completely.

Theo slowly pushed himself up further to look down at you, your face, neck, and shoulders smeared with his face paint and red lipstick just as his was, your hair a mess on his pillows, your eyes teary and staring up at him. He swore he’d never seen anything so perfectly ruined in his life.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Draco stood in the doorway, sighing into his hand after taking in the scene in front of him. His best friend had his sister in their dorm, that they shared. “Eh put a fucking sock on the door next time or something.”

Theo turned quickly as the door slammed shut before he could glimpse his friend, “Does that mean he’s not gonna hex me?” Theo asked, eyes fixed on the cloak swinging back and forth on it’s hook on the door.

~~~~

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[thestarsarebrightertonight]

i hate it here // mattheo riddle x fem reader

playlist : i hate it here - taylor swift

"im there most of the year cause i hate it here"

summary: you and mattheo find yourself laying on the rocky edge of the black lake , giving you a moment of serendipity to show him there is a world beyond the cold castle behind you.

y/n , no specific house , fluff , short!

you allowed the sound of the waves to drown out all of your thoughts as you found yourself laying amongst the rocks of he black lakes shore , mattheo riddle doing the same besides you.

"do you ever worry theres nothing beyond hogwarts?" he said softly as a silence followed , "i mean i hate it here but what if these are the best years of our lives and we're wasting them hating a place that isnt so bad afterall?"

you listened to his soft , anxious rant before simply turning your head to look at him , mattheo doing the same.

"i like to imagine everything i could do after hogwarts. when im in herbology i imagine my life travelling the world and collecting plants and discovering new ones , in defence agasint the dark arts i imagine chasing a death eater through the streets , i imagine the feeling of catching them - the euphoria. in charms i imagine being a professor , inventing new spells , teaching or working for the ministry." mattheo silently stared at you as you spoke , "the point is , there so much more out there mattheo , not even in the wizarding world , in the muggle world too. it may sound stupid but doesnt being a muggle singer sound fun? or a librarian protecting the acient words that are around me every day , lending people the knowledge of a well known poet or showing them the new world of a fiction novel."

he began to smile as you listed every opportuinity , the adventure of every posibilty flickering in his eyes.

"life doesnt end at hogwarts , thats where it begins." you smiled at him.

he grinned at you , seemingly happy with your response , "no matter what happens when we leave this place , ill be with you. even if you work in a muggle cafe or become the worlds greatest quidditch player , ill be there. i hate it here but i will never hate you."

"good because what we've got going on is a forever thing!" you both laughed as mattheos heart fluttered at the thought of it.

"forever" he smiled.

[dreamcubed]

i think he knows | theodore nott x reader

song; i think he knows [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x ravenclaw!fem!reader genre; not actually unrequited love, s2l, fluff word count; 3,1k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, theo's lack of communication summary; you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move

masterlist

"wanna see what's under that attitude."

—————————————

Truth was, you knew you weren't special for having your attention caught by Theodore Nott. Despite his almost entirely anti-social personality and apparent grumpiness, many girls longed after him. You completely understood, of course; there was something enticing about a potentially misunderstood quiet boy, and the idea of becoming the one person they show affection to was self-indulging.

The fact of the matter, as your best friend, Cho, frequently pointed out, was that you had never even so much as spoken to him. You hoped he at least knew you existed, from the times you had been praised in class for your assignments, but you had no proof that he even recognised your face.

"Babe, it's sixth year now- that's over five years of you fancying Nott," Cho said as she caught your gaze lingering over to the Slytherin table again. It was your second day back after summer, so you had a lot of long-distance admiring to catch up on.

"Okay, so?" you replied, not even bothering to move your eyes away from the object of your desires.

"So, it's time that you do something about it," she continued, shovelling scrambled eggs on to both her plate and yours, "Do you really want to leave Hogwarts without any dating experience?"

You finally prized your eyes away from Nott, opting instead to meet your concerned best friend's gaze, "I don't think it's the sort of time to be thinking about dating."

"It's especially the time to think about it," she said, "Our lives may be shorter than we think they are - don't die with regrets."

You sighed, unable to argue.

"Plus, it really wouldn't hurt to have some positivity around here. You can feel how much heavier the air is than before."

That, you had to agree with. People were still laughing in their friend groups throughout the hall, sure, but there was a lingering sense of dread that had stuck with everyone since the Triwizard Tournament and reign of Umbridge, and it was only getting worse.

"Maybe," you finally concluded, picking up your fork to dig into your breakfast.

"You have nothing to lose," she added, "Your social circles are completely separate, and, you're pretty as fuck."

You couldn't help but smile at her compliment, "Even if that's true, I'm completely inexperienced."

"It's not that hard."

"Yeah, says the girl who had both Hogwarts champions drooling over her. No offence, babe, but you're biased."

"That could just have easily been you if you'd ever spoken to either of them."

"Whatever you say."

Cho sighed, deciding to not argue any further with you on the matter - for now.

***

It was amazing how potions went from your least favourite subject to your favourite after Slughorn took over from Snape. The lessons were no longer a fear-inducing chore, but instead a time of laughter and enjoyable learning: the way it should be.

Harry Potter especially seemed to be flourishing in the subject, much to the dismay of Hermione Granger, who usually took the spot at the top of the class. You were glad to not be a part of their constantly hectic lifestyles, although you had almost been when Cho had a thing with Harry the year prior.

Regardless, your main focus during potions was the gorgeous Slytherin boy who sat across the classroom from you - another of the best students in the class. Your seat was stationed at the perfect angle to sneak glances at him without raising too much suspicion: you definitely hadn't ensured that a few weeks ago during the first lesson or anything.

"Shit, I forgot the anjelica," you muttered to yourself, gazing at the list of ingredients in front of you as you had been wondering why your potion was a navy blue when it was meant to be a royal blue.

You left your station to head over to the ingredients cupboard, where you gazed at the arrangement before you. It was organised alphabetically, so your eyes shifted to the top left hand corner where you spotted the jar that you were after.

You stood on your tiptoes in attempt to reach it, but after failing, you huffed, going to pull out your wand instead. That was when a hard chest pressed against your back and a large pale hand grasped the very jar that you were in dire need of. You turned around quickly only to spot the guy you had fancied for an unhealthy amount of time - and his face was shockingly close to yours. His scent swarmed your nostrils, making your knees weak.

He raised an eyebrow at you.

Coming to your senses, you cleared your throat, "Uh, I need some of that anjelica- please."

His eyes shifted down to the jar in his hand as he stepped back slightly. The added distance meant that you could finally breathe.

Nott presented the jar to you, and you gratefully took it, thanking him in the process. As you went to open it and take what you needed, he left the cupboard and went back to his station, which was in view of where you were. You remained shocked for a few moments: did he not need some of the herb? His eyes locked on to yours from where he now was, making you panic and quickly depart the cupboard with the jar still in your hand.

Rowena, how did Cho expect you to ask him out when you couldn't even make eye contact with him?

***

The following morning, you were sat at breakfast with Cho and your other fellow Ravenclaws, busy discussing the latest ancient runes essay that you had to complete. Just as you began to discuss the difficulties you had with writing the conclusion, you were interrupted by the sound of owls from above. The morning post had arrived.

Typically, you didn't get anything. Maybe the occasional letter from your mother, but that was about it. So, you were mildly surprised to see an envelope drop in front of you.

It was a very small envelope: that was the most confusing part. You couldn't think as to why your mother wouldn't send a normal-sized letter, but you opened it nonetheless. Only, the contents of the envelope made your stomach drop as dread filled your bones and veins.

A tiny note was enclosed, that wasn't addressed or signed, and it simply read "I see you staring at me". Instinctively, your eyes looked up and over to the Slytherin table, where Theodore Nott sat, evidently having been watching you this entire time. His face was completely blank, until he arched an eyebrow at you - clearly a favoured expression of his - which made you begin panicking.

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Only Cho, who was sat next to you, heard your profanities, and turned to you with confusion adorning her face. "What is it?"

You passed the note over to her, still gazing at Nott who now had the slightest of amused smirks tugging on his lips.

"Oh, fuck," Cho mimicked you, finally making you prize your eyes away from the boy, "Yeah, I see why you're panicking."

"This is going to socially ruin me," you sighed, "He'll probably tell the other Slytherins and then they'll bully me until the end of my school career."

"Okay, catastrophising much?" she said, gently slapping you, "Nott like never talks, I highly doubt he divulges his friends with personal information."

"Yeah, his personal information!" you whisper-yelled.

"I mean, maybe he likes you back."

"What?"

"He doesn't indicate at all in that note that he's mad at you for staring at him."

"Yeah, but, don't you think he'd go about it in a different way if he returned the feelings?"

Cho paused to think for a moment, "No, actually. Maybe he was pretty sure that you were staring at him, but needed to confirm it. So, he wrote that note to you, intentionally not signing it, to see if you would immediately look to him after reading it."

Your eyes widened with realisation, "Wait, are you saying I could have still saved myself, but instead instantly looked in his direction like a fucking idiot?"

"Y/N," she hit your arm, "I think this is a good thing. Try and be more optimistic."

"Easy for you to say."

***

You felt sick to your stomach as you arrived at your potions lesson that day, keeping your head down as you took your usual seat. Normally, this would be when you'd steal your first glance at Theodore Nott, but the thought of seeing his face again paralysed you with fear.

"Y/N, relax," Cho whispered to you, but her words were futile. Relaxation seemed impossible in times like this.

"Today, class, I want you to pair up with someone you don't usually work with," Professor Slughorn announced, "By that I mean, someone who isn't from your house and doesn't sit on your table."

You mumbled a curse under your breath as people began to move around, looking up to try and locate the nice Hufflepuff girl you sat next to in history of magic. Only, Cho had already disappeared to her side, and they were chatting happily with each other. Rowena, this was bad. You didn't have the biggest social circle.

"Excellent, everyone seems to be in pairs," Slughorn spoke, making you furrow your eyebrows.

Looking to your side, you were shocked to see that Nott had silently sat next you, and was gazing at you intently.

"Hi," you squeaked, flashbacks of breakfast flooding back to you.

He gave you a curt nod, and turned back to face the front.

You didn't listen to a single instruction that Slughorn gave after that, as your brain was much too pre-occupied with concepts of social suicide and humiliation. Was Nott just trying to torture you?

"L/N," a deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. That was it. The first time you had ever heard Theodore Nott speak.

You turned to him, only to realise that everyone was standing up and getting ingredients - had you really been that spaced out?

It must have been evident in your facial expression that you had no idea what was going on, because Nott opened his potions book and pointed at the potion that you were making. You looked at the ingredient list, but you couldn't say that you were actually taking any of it in.

Clearly, Nott was aware of this fact, and let out a small sigh that made you feel exceptionally guilty. Regardless, he walked over to the ingredients cupboard himself without another word and soon returned with everything you needed. In the meantime, you had snapped out of your stupor and set up the cauldron and cutting board. You didn't want him to completely regret pairing up with you.

What potion were you even making? You finally processed the words on the page: amortentia. Your eyes widened.

This might not end well.

***

You had never thought being a remarkable potion maker - who was collaborating with a fellow remarkable potion maker - would be a bad thing. It turned out that it very much could be when the steam from your concoction wafted up your nose, overwhelming your senses with the smell of intertwined chestnut and paper money. As if the faint scent of Nott that you picked up on whenever he walked past didn't make you nervous enough, now it filled the entire room, since you certainly weren't the only capable potion makers in the class.

"Alright, class, it seems that we have all about finished," Slughorn clapped his hands together, "And, now, for my favourite part."

You had a feeling you knew what was coming.

"Miss Parkinson, what does the potion smell like to you?"

"Uh," the girl flushed a bit, her eyes flicking towards Draco Malfoy, "I don't know how to describe it - clean, expensive. Like a really fancy fragrance."

"Fascinating, most fascinating," Slughorn replied, his eyes gleaming, "Mr Nott, what about you?"

Were you already about to hear him speak for the second time? He hadn't spoke throughout the entire potion making process, which, to be honest, you were kind of glad for.

"Coconut," he said simply, "And vanilla."

Your breath hitched.

You used coconut shampoo.

Your favourite perfume was a vanilla scent.

"That is most interesting!" Slughorn grinned, "It is fascinating to hear what enraptures you all the most!"

You didn't realise that your eyes had glued on to Nott as Slughorn proceeded to ask other students what amortentia smelled of to them until the Slytherin boy turned to face you and raised a singular eyebrow.

You felt warm underneath his gaze.

He smirked.

***

You packed up at the end of the lesson, preparing to return to the Ravenclaw tower until dinner time along with Cho who was still across the room. Just as you were about to walk over to her, Nott grabbed your arm and jerked his head in the direction of the door. It was a silent invitation to walk with him somewhere, from what you could gather. You turned around to tell Cho where you were going, but she had already disappeared, much to your confusion.

The first few minutes of the walk were in silence, and the awkwardness was killing you. It was only once you had emerged from the dungeons that Nott finally said something.

"You aren't subtle."

A lightning bolt of shock and nerves shot up your spine and made you stiffen up as you walked. You managed to force out a mumble of, "I know."

He shrugged, "It's cute."

Had you heard him right? No, you couldn't have. You just weren't used to hearing his voice.

"I thought you were shy," you muttered, but he heard and chuckled a bit.

"No. Just quiet."

You clutched your books close to your chest.

"You're shy," he added.

You nodded.

He chuckled again, and silence ensued for another couple minutes.

"Hogsmeade," he said.

You hummed in surprise.

"This weekend. Me, you."

Your jaw dropped - did he mean a date? A Hogsmeade invitation had certain implications among Hogwarts students.

But he didn't clarify, not once on the way to the Ravenclaw tower.

***

"Relax, Y/N, you'll be great," Cho assured you, wrapping your scarf around your neck since the autumn breeze was nippy in Scotland.

"I don't even know if it's a date."

"Of course it's a date," she shook her head, "Everyone knows what inviting someone to Hogsmeade means."

You grimaced, "I don't know if Nott is the most up to date with social norms."

"Regardless, he's not a fucking idiot."

You gave your best friend a small smile.

"Now, he'll be waiting for you in the courtyard, so hurry!"

***

You had only ever seen Theodore Nott in casual clothing from afar before, catching a glimpse of him before he disappeared amongst the other Slytherins. But, Rowena, you had been missing out on quite an indulgent sight.

How could a man make such a simple outfit of a knitted jumper and baggy jeans look so good? You didn't understand it, unable to feel anything but self-conscious in your own ensemble.

He didn't smile at you as you approached, but instead gave you a curt nod. And, as you both began walking towards the carriage, the silence was truly beginning to suffocate you. So, you reached inside the crevices of your brain to talk about something - anything - and finally landed on informing him of every little thing that had happened to you that week. It wasn't particularly interesting, mainly because you were omitting the details about him, but it meant that the quietness was filled with your babbling.

Which was how it went the entire journey to Hogsmeade.

At first you weren't sure he was listening, but when you paused mid sentence for a moment, he raised his eyebrow at you and gestured for you to go on. So you did.

"...and honestly, I don't know why Cho thought that was a good idea," you sighed as you both stepped out of the carriage, "She nearly set her hair on fire!"

You heard a small chuckle erupt from the boy next to you, making you look over to him in surprise.

"What about you? How's your week been?" you asked cautiously, nervous to see his reaction to a question that required a wordy response.

He shrugged.

It was frustrating.

You chewed your lip for a few seconds, "Look- I get you find communication difficult. But, please, I need more to work with here."

He gave you a surprised expression, and stopped walking, making you halt too. Nott looked around pensively, completely unreadable.

"Nott?"

He looked at you and scowled, "Theo," he corrected.

"Theo- what are you doing?"

Letting out a loud exhale, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the main street of Hogsmeade and to a more hidden area behind some of the houses. When you turned around, you realised that he was right in front of you - to the point that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

"I'm not good with words," he mumbled.

You hummed in agreement.

"I don't like talking to people," he continued, "But I want to talk to you."

Your breath hitched, "Really?"

"I'm not an idiot- I've known that you've fancied me for years."

You felt your ears heat up.

"But this year, when we started back, I-" he paused, trying to piece together the words in his mind, "I saw you, and it was different than before. I wanted your attention."

A smile crept on to your face as you gazed up at him.

"So, I know I need to work on being open - but I want to try. For you."

You don't know where the wave of confidence came from, but you found yourself pressing your lips against his and combing your fingers through his hair. He gasped at the sudden contact, but quickly reciprocated the affection until you pulled apart.

"Rowena... I always thought you knew. I can't believe I was right."

"Horrifying?"

"A little," you nodded, "But it's obviously worked out."

————————————————

masterlist

written; 03/06/2023 —> 15/08/2023 published;17/08/2023 edited; —/—/——

[my-castles-crumbling]

Reblog to see how chaotic we are!

[gracexthoughts]

of violent delights chap 22

the champions

31 october 1996

Mattheo’s POV 

“It’s not going to wooork!” Granger calls in a sing-song voice as the Twins soak in the scattered applause from the other students around, ready to submit their names. The Goblet of Fire has been set up towards the front of the Great Hall, the tables pushed back and squished together to accommodate the large cup and magical age line surrounding it. 

“C’mon, ‘Mione!” One twin groans. 

“Have a little faith,” adds the other, which I think is George. Mia has been trying to show me how to tell them apart and if they would stand still I probably could do it. 

“She’s right,” Mia says from my side. It’s a Saturday so Mia and I went to Hogsmeade for lunch and as we were entering the castle on our way back, the Twins were running into the Great Hall like they were about to win a race. “You didn’t account for the age line.” The Twins turn to look at her eyebrows raised. 

“This right here, is an age line,” Mia says, pointing to the silvery blue boundary that encircles the Goblet.

"Dumbledore drew it himself!" Granger says, seeming very pleased that Mia agrees with her.

“I highly doubt Dumbledore’s magic can be fooled by a dodge as obvious as an aging potion," adds Mia.

“Ah! But that’s why it's so genius, Phe,” Fred says; I can tell it's Fred because he steps so close to Mia that I have to make an effort not to push him back. Fred is much more physically affectionate with Mia than George and while I trust Mia, I can’t help the jealousy that flairs in my chest for the guy that knows my girlfriend better than I may ever be able to. 

“Because it's so obvious that they would assume no one would try it!” George answers. 

“By all means, if it works then you can brag for the rest of the year about how genius you both are,” Mia laughs at her friends and the Twins high five, drink their potions, and turn to the Goblet, very slowly and carefully stepping over the age line, which bends against the legs but does let them pass. Mia bites her bottom lip as she watches it all happen and my mind wanders as I watch her for a moment, no longer interested in the Twins but rather focusing on my jumping her right here.

My focus is pulled from Mia’s lips as the Twins shout and fly over the crowd surrounding the Goblet and land hard on the floor. I follow my girlfriend as she pushes her way through the crowd frantically only to see Fred and George fighting on the floor as old men. Mia fails to stifle a laugh and I don’t even try not to bust out laughing as the Weasley Twins, in their new found old age, wrestle and yell at each other on the floor of the Great Hall. Eventually, Mia sighs and steps forward, lightly kicking their sides until they release each other. 

“Not to say I told you so but-” 

“Mia, you gotta help us fix it!” One of them begs, their voice cracking as they stand, rubbing their back as if it pains them. Well, they are elderly now I guess. 

“What? How is this my fault? I think you both look rather dashing,” Mia teases, clearly trying hard not to bust out laughing again. “I’ll walk with you to Pomphrey,” she adds before turning to me. “Met up after the feast?” 

“Sounds good, princess. Good luck with the grandads,” I press a small kiss to her forehead before she turns and shoves the elderly Twins forward, the three of them leaving with their laughter echoing in their wake. 

“Can’t believe you’re dating her,” Draco’s voice sneers from my side and I turn to face my cousin, his hair reflecting the blue flames coming out of the Goblet. 

“Bugger off, Draco,” I grumble, turning back to see Krum throw his name into the Goblet as well, all the girls in the room admiring him as he turns and leaves. 

“Father was surprised, of course, but sounds like your mother wasn’t. Although, he supposed it could be a very clever ruse. Breaking the heart of The Girl Who Lived, a small revenge for the death of a father,” Draco continues. Like a little brother, he has always loved winding me up, and unfortunately, I’m an easy man to anger. 

“You and your father need to keep your noses out of my life,” I snap, turning and shoving the smaller boy slightly, causing him to stumble back a step. “You leave the Potters alone.” 

“You can’t tell me what to do!” He cries indignantly but before I can respond, Ella appears by his side. 

“C’mon Dray, don’t lower yourself by fussing with blood traitors,” she coos cruelly, her dark eyes narrowed at me angrily. I clench my jaw at the insult but I don’t rise to their taunts. 

“Come off it, Elladora,” Enzo says, appearing at my side with his arms crossed. Theo appears on my other side and gratitude floods in me for my two best friends. Ella and Draco roll their eyes and sneer as they turn their backs and leave the Great Hall whispering intently. 

“Malfoy-Riddle holidays are gonna get super fun for you,” Theo comments, trying to break tension, and I grunt in acknowledgement. 

“Don’t worry about them, Matt,” Enzo says calmly. 

“Easy,” I respond simply. “You guys want a smoke?” I ask, wanting to escape to the Astronomy Tower and ignore the rest of the world. 

“Yeah, let’s go. Tired of this display anyway,” Theo nods and the three of us exit the Great Hall and make our way towards the tower. 

✦

“The time has come to select our Triwizard Tournament champions!” Dumbledore announces, stepping down from the teachers table towards the Goblet of Fire, his hand outstretched as he dims the torches around the Hall.

“Ah, here we go,” Evan mutters, turning in his seat so he can watch, leaning his back against the table. I catch Mia’s eye at the next table over and she smiles, scrunching her nose adorably before turning back around to watch the choosing ceremony. “Once the champions' names are called, please come up to the top of the Hall and proceed into the next chamber and await your instructions,” Dumbledore motions towards a door to the side of the teachers table.

The entirety of the hall waits in tense excitement as the Goblet of Fire begins shining more brightly, so bright it's almost painful to look too closely at it. Suddenly, the flames turn bright red and jump up to a height of a foot or so and a burned piece of parchment flutters down and Dumbledore catches it easily. “The Durmstrang champion is… Victor Krum!” 

Applause echoes through the halls for the Bulgarian Seeker as he stands and sweeps up towards the table and is congratulated by Karkaroff before he disappears through the door. 

“No surprise there,” Enzo mutters back to Theo and I as the flames just up again and spit out another paper. 

“The champion for Beauxbatons is… Fleur Delacour!” A lithe blonde girl stands from amongst the sea of blue silk uniforms, looking quite proud, and saunters up to Dumbledore before continuing in Krum’s path as the student body cheers, especially the boys. 

“Oh man,” Evan says as he leans back to watch Fleur as she walks, adding a low whistle to punctuate his sentence. Astoria reaches over the table and smacks Evan on the back of his head. The French girl is beautiful for certain, but it seems I am one of the only ones not fawning over her. 

Just as Fleur disappears, the goblet shoots the third and final paper. “The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!” The Slytherins around me groan, but Hufflepuff explodes in uproar as they cheer for their champion. 

“What a pretty boy,” Theo mutters but I’m focused on Mia as Diggory smiles and nods at Mia as he passes her, his eyes lingering longer than on anyone else he passes. I see George and Fred glaring at him and I’m glad someone else agrees that the newly appointed Hogwarts champion should stay far away from my girl. 

“That’s it!” Dumbledore yells, the students quieting down as Diggory slips through the door. “We now have our three champions, and I’m sure the rest of you will be very supportive.” The Headmaster falters in his speech as the Goblet begins sparking and the flames turn red and shoot out a fourth paper. 

Dumbledore, looking quite bewildered, reaches for the paper and squints at it. He murmurs a name but I’m sitting too far away to hear it but the students up front begin whispering rapidly and looking towards the Gryffindor table. 

“... Potter,” my blood runs cold at the last name, although I didn’t catch the first name I’m terrified for Mia. She never said she found a way to enter, she didn’t even seem like she wanted to. “HARRY POTTER!” Dumbledore roars louder, interrupting my thoughts and relief floods my chest, soon followed by guilt.

For a moment no one moves. My eyes find Mia a table over, seemingly frozen in time with wide eyes. She doesn’t move until Harry passes her on his way up to Dumbledore, and even I can tell Harry doesn’t understand what’s happening. At the sight of her brother, Mia moves suddenly, like her brain was struggling to process information but now that it has she jumps up from her seat. 

“Headmaster, it must be a mistake!” She calls and Harry looks back to his sister, the fear and confusion in her eyes mirrored in his near identical ones. Mia steps over her seat, trying to go after her brother, but one of the Weasley Twins, I can’t tell which from here, stands and pulls her back. She struggles against him as she watches her brother take the parchment from Dumbledore and walk dazed towards the door. Evan, Enzo, Theo and Astoria all look at me with varying degrees of confusion. 

“How did he get past the Age Line?” Evan whispers but I’m not listening. I don’t listen to Dumbledore as he dismisses us either because all I’m aware of is the terror on Mia’s face. Students begin standing around me and I push my way through the crowd to try and reach Mia. 

Mia doesn’t stay put though, she begins pushing her way towards Dumbledore, who is speaking to McGonagall next to the goblet. I’m a few steps behind Mia as she reaches the professors. 

“Headmaster! How is this possible? Harry didn’t enter, he couldn’t have!” She cries and I can hear the panic in her voice as I step up behind her, the Twins next to me now as well. 

“Miss Potter, please,” Dumbledore says placatingly but Mia forges ahead. 

“You can’t let him compete! He’s only sixteen!” 

“We will do everything we can to ensure-” 

“I’ll compete for him!” Mia interrupts again, and I share a glance with the Twins. “I’ll be 19 in a few months, please! You have to let me take his place, he’s not-

“Miss Potter!” Dumbledore snaps, halting Mia in her tracks. “Please, let us handle it and you can come speak to me about it tomorrow if you still wish,” and with that Dumbledore turns around and sweeps back towards the teacher’s table, followed by Karkaroff, Madam Maxine, and an entourage of Hogwarts teachers. 

“Professor, please, I’ll do anything if it means Harry doesn’t have to do this. There has to be a way,” Mia begs of McGonagall, whose face is grave. McGonagall reaches out and puts a hand on Mia’s shoulder. 

“I know you’re frightened, Miss Potter, but there is not much that can be done tonight. I will speak with the Headmaster and you and I can speak tomorrow. For now, just go on back to the common room, and be there for your brother,” McGonagall squeezes Mia’s shoulder and gives her a small, reassuring smile before turning and following after Dumbledore. 

Mia watches her go for a moment before turning back to me, Fred and George. Her beautiful green eyes are wide with fear and her bottom lip is trembling. 

“C’mon, Mia. Let’s go back to the common room, I’m sure Harry will be back up there soon,” Fred says calmly. The Great Hall is almost completely empty now save us and a few stragglers. 

Mia turns her eyes to me, “Will you com-” 

“Of course, Mia. C’mon,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and I lead her out of the Great Hall behind the Twins, the last people in the Hall eyeing Mia suspiciously. 

As we enter the Gryffindor Common Room, students shoot us looks, emotions ranging from suspicion to hatred. I mean, every time I’m anywhere near Gryffindor Tower I get plenty of wary stares and glares but I’ve never seen this reaction for Mia. Mia begins to follow Fred and George to the couches where the rest of her and Harry’s friends sit but she looks around for a moment at the rest of the room, her jaw ticking. 

“I have to go write to Remus and… I have to go write to Remus,” she says in the general direction of the circle of friends and then continues through the room, her head held high. I follow after her and find her frantically searching through the piles on her desk.

Something I’ve learned about Mia in the last two months, she’s kinda messy. I mean she’s brilliant and seems to have a system, but she’s also a little chaotic. Typically, every surface in her dorm room is littered with books and quills and parchment and the occasional dirty coffee cup. It doesn't help that her friends are in here all the time as well, I'm sure, but she doesn't seem to mind.

I close the door gently as Mia manages to find a quill and some clean parchment. She leans over her desk, perched on the very edge of her chair as she furiously scribbles out a letter. 

“Mia…” I say gently, placing my hands on her shoulders. 

“One sec,” she mutters, pushing one paper addressed to Remus Lupin, her godfather, away and switching to a second piece of parchment and starting a second letter. 

“Who’s Padfoot?” I ask curiously, having never heard the name before. 

“Nobody,” she mutters distantly and I sigh, backing up a few steps. I stand in the middle of the room, my mind running a hundred miles a minute at who the hell she’s writing to. I grit my teeth as I try to control my jealousy and worries. After another minute of the scratching of her quill she stands and moves to grab her cloak. 

“Woah, where are you going?” I ask, stepping in front of her. 

“Owlery, I have to send these,” she says, not looking at me. Once Mia gets her mind set on something, not much can stop her. 

“Mia, just stop for a second and think! It’s dark and Harry will probably be back any minute. You can send them tomorrow!” I say, still blocking her path. 

“Mattheo, stop! Let me go! They have to know! I need their help!” Mia yells as panic starts to overtake her again. 

“No! Mia, just take a breath!” 

“Get out of my way!” 

“No!” I yell, and put my hand out towards her, without thinking, and she flinches. “Oh fuck, Mia. Princess, I’m sorry. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise,” I say, lowering my voice and my hand slowly. My heart breaks as I look at my girlfriend looking at me like a cornered animal. 

“No, I know. I’m sorry,” Mia says, dropping her gaze to the floor and shaking her head. I hesitantly take a few steps forward until I’m standing toe to toe with her and reach out, lifting her chin so she looks up at me. 

“Don’t apologize. What they did to you is not your fault and I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m just… worried about you,” I say earnestly, cupping her face as a tear spills over her eyelashes. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, pulling her into a hug and, finally, she relents into my embrace, shaking as sobs wrack her body. “You’re safe, baby, no one’s gonna hurt you.” 

After a few minutes, Mia takes a deep breath and steps back, moving to sit on her bed and I follow, sitting next to her. “Padfoot is Harry’s godfather… Better known as Sirius Black,” Mia says quietly. 

“What?” I say, surprised and turn to look at Mia.

“I’m gonna explain, it's a long story though, so just hang on, okay?” Mia says, setting the letters down on her nightstand and leaning abc against the headboard. I nod and lean against one of the posts of her bed, watching her intently as she tells me the story of her second to last night of fifth year. How she and Harry found out that Sirius Black is innocent and the person who betrayed her parents was actually Peter Pettigrew, who had been hiding as the Weasley family rat. 

“We write to him as Padfoot in case the Ministry intercepts one, so… yeah,” Mia finishes with a sigh and I can’t help but laugh, a memory resurfacing suddenly. “What? I’m telling the truth!” 

“No, I believe you, I just… So at that party last year when I asked if you had anything to do with Sirius Black escaping, well I just never thought you actually had!” I laugh, and after a moment Mia laughs too. 

“Bloody hell, I forgot about that,” she laughs, but too soon the levity fades from her face, worry creeping back in. I move to lay next to her and pull her into my embrace. She lays her head over my chest and wraps her arms tightly around my waist as I do the same around her shoulder, holding her close to me. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” I whisper into her hair, rubbing circles on her arm. “We’ll figure it out.” I hold her like this until her breathing evens out and she slips down into her dreams.

✦

The first thing I notice when I wake, is Mia is nowhere to be found.

a/n; ayo new banner!! i was spending way too much time trying to find the perfect gifs so i decided to make a banner instead. the amount of time i spent on those stupid letters is kinda ridiculous

taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @abaker74 @stxrsberkshire

[wreckofawriter]

Only If You Catch Me

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pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: fred had always been frustrated by your endeavors with other men, especially other men that always looked quite a bit like him. after a disastrous mistake during quidditch practice you find yourself wondering how you had never seen fred Weasley in the light you saw him in now

word count: 4.4k

warnings: jealousy, language (maybe?), only proof read once so sorry for any mistakes!

a/n: this is my first big piece in ages, I hope you guys enjoy and im so sorry for my prolonged absence i fell off on writing for a while and im just now getting back to it

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Some things were just facts, plain and simple; the sky is blue, two and two is four and you had a type.

“Another ginger I see.” Alicia murmured as you sat down across from her, pints of butter beer clinking together. Your eyes were locked with a pretty freckled boy by the bar. 

You huffed even though she was quite right, this must have been the third redhead that you set sights on this year. “Well William got boring and,” You paused wrinkling your nose, “-pushy” 

The Three Broomsticks was packed, the sounds of chatter and warmth guarding you from the icy cold of the blizzard that had swept through Hogsmeade. You and Alicia had joined the dozens of students seeking cover in the popular pub and quickly snagged a small table near a large fireplace where you now looked out on the sea of flushed faces and smiles. 

“With your type it's a wonder your last name isn’t Weasley.” Your friend chuckled and you laughed. 

“If I could have gotten my hands on Charlie, it would be.” You replied, your silly crush on the older Weasley brother lasting from your first year to what you were sure would be your last. 

Alicia giggled, taking a large swig from her pint, licking the foam off her top lip. “Why not one of the twins then?”

“What twins?” A voice asked from behind you.

“She couldn’t be talking about us now could she, Georgie?” Fred jested.

“No no,” The other replied, “I mean what could Spinnet possibly want from us?”

Alicia rolled her eyes with great effort, “Trust me when I say I want nothing to do with you. As for my friend here, I don't know if I can say the same.” she said with a smug grin and you sent her a furious look.

Fred smirked, leaning over the back of your chair, his large palms ghosting your shoulders, “Is that true? Do you need something from us?” He leaned in even further, his nose brushing your hair, “from me?”

You began to look a bit red as he pulled away, “Please Weasley,” you managed to scoff “since when do I need things from you? In fact, I believe you still have my Charms notes.”

Fred had come to stand in front of you now, George joining his side, “It's just that your notes are so much better for writing Flitwick’s essay. ” He argued. 

“You don’t even take notes.” You said, exasperated. 

“Exactly” The twins replied in unison. 

Alicia snickered beside you.

Chairs appeared and Fred and George sat. The table seemed half the size it was before as Fred's elbow knocked against yours.

“Made yourselves at home have you?” You spoke, wincing.

Fred just grinned and leaned purposefully closer, thighs now brushing.

You slid towards Alicia who was turning a laugh into a cough and set your eyes back on the boy with freckles. 

“You headed to the Slytherin match next weekend?” Alicia asked absently.

“Of course.” George replied, “I’ve bet Lee a galleon that Malfoy catches a bludger with his nose.” he chuckled,  “He reckons it’ll be his gut.” 

You all smiled at the idea, no one hated Malfoy more than those on the Gryffindor quidditch team. 

“We also have business to do.” Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.

“You don't have any more of those nosebleed nougats do you?” You asked, eyes still across the room, “I’ve got to get out of Binns’ class tomorrow.” 

Alicia's eyebrows shot up, you hardly missed History of Magic, or as you liked to call it, nap hour. “Why's that?”. 

“No reason.” You mumbled, intently staring into your butterbeer. 

Fred’s eyes darted between the two of you. 

“Of course we’ve got some.” grinned George, oblivious, “2 sickles a pei-.”

“Or for free if you tell us what you're up to.” Fred interrupted, catching a strange look from his brother. 

“I'm not up to anything!” You gasped with a bit too much enthusiasm. 

Alicias eyes had narrowed to slits and Fred had never looked more unconvinced. 

Your face began to grow hot and you found yourself wishing you had more grace in the act of lying.

“Oh come off it,” George said, “If she wants to snog Murphy instead of hearing about the seventh generation of goblin rebellions, who are we to judge?” 

You were glowing pink now, sending a vicious look at George who had taken to sipping his drink innocently. 

Fred looked appalled, his face contorted like he had just caught a whiff of something horrible, “Murphy!” 

“Keep your voice down.” You hissed angrily, glazing across the room again to be sure he hadn’t heard, “I'm trying to keep it quiet.” 

Fred was fuming, “Who wouldn’t, swapping spit with a git like that.” 

You scoffed, pulling out a small coin purse, “Can I just have some nougat?”

“Nope.” Fred responded, voice suddenly ferocious, “We’re out.”

You were beginning to grow frustrated, “George just said you had some.”

Fred glared at you, “We’re out.” he repeated his nose high in the air.

You turned to George looking for help but he threw you an I’m-not-getting-into-this look and you were forced to round back on Fred. 

You glared at each other for a moment before Fred caved, "Fine we’ve got some,” He huffed, “Three Galleons.” 

Your mouth dropped, “George said 2 sickles!”

He crossed his arms, “They’re in high demand.”

You stood, chair flying back into the wall with a loud crack, “You’re a complete prick.” you said sharply snatching your bag and sweeping past Fred and over to meet Finn Murphy  who was now standing to leave the pub. 

“Well I think you handled that well.” Alicia said, grinning at Fred who looked as though he had been slapped. 

George, who looked all too happy with himself for instigating such an interesting conversation, helped himself to the remains of your butterbeer as you and Murphy bowed out into the flurry of white followed closely by Fred’s glare.

“Looks as though she's gonna snog every redhead at school before you.” Alicia snicked. 

“Yeah,” George snorted, “You might want to keep an eye on Ginny.”

Alicia giggled even harder, pressing a hand to her lips in an attempt to keep her drink in her mouth. 

Fred could hardly hear them, too busy envisioning your latest with large boils all over his face or perhaps vomiting indefinitely. 

Alicia managed to contain herself and shot Fred a sympathetic glance, “I've been trying you know, I keep bringing you up but she seems far more interested in Charlie.” 

“Charlie!” He guffawed, “But he's been gone for ages!”

“Well he seemed to have made quite the impression.” Alicia chuckled. 

“He was captain when she was appointed to the team.” George pointed out. 

“Yeah when she was TWELVE” Fred gasped. 

Alicia couldn’t help it, she had started laughing again, “Relax,” She spoke between breaths, “It’s just a silly school girl crush.” 

Fred looked unconvinced and began to tap his heel incessantly against the floor.

“Take it as a complement!” She continued, “Charlie looks quite a bit like you, I mean you are related after all.” 

Fred was not taking it as pleasantly as she suggested and began to rap his foot on the ground even faster, “We’ve got to do something.” 

“We?” George snorted, “This is all you mate. I’m not the one in love with her.” 

Freds ears grew pink, “I’m not in love with her!” he sputtered. 

“Whatever you say.” Alicia spoke rolling her eyes.

The truth was that if Fred wasn't in love with you, he was so close he may as well have been. At the very least he had been pining after you for years and he had never been particularly quiet about it. In fact he was the opposite of quiet about it. His flirtatious remarks and dazzling complements were quite consistent. Unfortunately so was his coursing jealousy as you paraded around with boy after boy who was not him.  Every year he swore would be the year. The year where you finally realized it was him you needed and all would be right in Fred's world. But time and time again he failed as you walked out the door with a different redhead. He was growing nervous, his seventh year was upon him and this may be his last chance before you were all carted off in different directions never to see each other again. The frustration of it all was turning him bitter.

That night Fred lay awake on his four-poster, staring at the ceiling venomously. What was it? He wondered, What was it that he didn't have that every other ginger you knew seemed to possess? Why was it never him pulling you into broom closets and meeting you after classes? What was he doing wrong? His thoughts spun until he drifted into an uneasy slumber. 

By the time he arrived at the quidditch pitch for practice the next morning, the rest of the team was already changing into their robes as Angilina scribbled vigorously on the chalkboard in front of them, already changed and ready. 

“Fred!” She shouted watching him try to sneak his way into the bustle of the team unnoticed, “What took so long? I was beginning to think I would have to send George back up to wake you.” 

He shrugged, “Sorry Cap, I didn’t get much sleep last night if you know what I mean.” he winked at her and she looked sorely unamused. 

You on the other hand perked up at the insinuation, finally looking at the twin who, in protest of his behavior the day before, you had been ignoring. 

“She gets what I mean,” He smirked nodding towards you, “Up late with Murphy boy last night?” He asked viciously. 

You flushed as the changing room filled with chuckles. 

“Murphy?” Angelina asked, turning to you, “Isn’t he a bit,” She paused, “dim?” 

You scowled at Fred silently before snatching your broom from the rack and marching so quickly out onto the pitch that you hadn’t even noticed you had hit Harry in the temple with its handle. 

As Potter groaned in pain and fixed his askew glasses Fred looked over to Alicia who was shaking her head slightly. As the rest of the team slowly followed you out onto the field she and George made their way towards him. 

“You’re an idiot.” Alicia groaned, “No wonder she won’t go out with you.”  

George chuckled.

Fred glared at the pair, “It’s not my fault she insists on only snogging boys who are 'a bit dim.'" he spoke, mocking Angelina.

“I know that this may be hard to wrap your head around,” Alicia spoke sharply, “But maybe she went out with Murphy because he was, ya know, nice to her.” She then shouldered past the twins leaving Fred gapping at his brother desperately. 

The day was crisp, the heavy licks of winter drawn in by a bitter wind. But the sky was clear and the sun was out, much to everyone’s appreciation. 

Fred mounted his broom still angry, feeling foolish for upsetting you yet again as you stood with your back to him defiantly. 

The whistle blew and the balls were released as the team kicked off, snow flying in all directions as you did so. 

Fred's head was not in practice as it should have been but instead on you, watching you speed towards the goal posts with the quaffle already under your arm. You scored easily on Ron with a feign left.

Fred was so absorbed in you that he had completely forgotten about the bludgers, one of which was hurtling at him with frightening speed. With little time to react he swung his bat wildly and pitched the bludger in the opposite direction, which with a sickening feeling he realized was right at you. 

He tried to shout but you must not have heard him over the howling of wind in your ears. Because when the bludger struck you heavily between the shoulder blades you were completely unprepared. Your vision danced as the air was knocked from your lungs. You were flung from your broom with a shriek and began to plummet.

Fred streamed after you, urging his broom towards the ground with a frightening speed. His Cleansweep shuttered under the immense pressure he suddenly held it in and never before had Fred wished so badly for Potters Firebolt. 

He managed to get beneath you mere feet from the ground. The force at which you hit him knocked you both into the snow with a heavy thud, and there was a sickening sound as his broom snapped in two. 

Neither of you moved for a moment, the snow settling around you and beginning to melt through your robes. 

“Are you alright?” Fred asked and was struck with panic when you did not respond. He sat up quickly pulling you with him, your legs tangled together in the snow. He called your name desperately, hands holding your face as you lay limp in his arms. 

Angelina landed beside the pair followed closely by George and Alicia both of whom were wearing nervous expressions. 

“Y/n!” Fred shouted again, tears stinging his eyes, fear gripping his throat like a vice. He was moments away from shaking you when your eyes slowly peeled open. 

“Fred?” You mumbled, confused. 

The boy let out a barking laugh of relief and then dove into a hug, almost knocking you back to the ground. 

Bewildered, you returned his embrace and realized quite suddenly how much larger than you Fred really was. You practically disappeared into his chest, his broad shoulders shielding you from the wind that whipped across the pitch. You felt frighteningly warm listening to his heart beat quickly beneath his robes. Your cheeks were hot as he pulled away from you and began to search for any look of pain or damage on your face. 

“Are you alright love?” He asked again and was washed with relief when you nodded. 

As you fully realized what was going on around you, you gasped, pulling the handle of Fred's broom out of the snow.

“Your broom!” You looked horrified, “Fred, your broom broke!” 

Fred on the other hand brushed it off helping you to your feet and beginning to pat the snow off your robes, “It’s alright, I’m sure it's fixable.” he shrugged, “Listen, I am so s-”

But before Fred could finish his apology George burst between the two of you, “I am so sorry!” He spoke hurriedly, “The bludger caught me off guard. I swear I wasn’t aiming for you.” 

You chuckled, giving George a pat on the shoulder, “I sure hope not, but 's not me you should be apologizing to anyway.” You said, “It's Fred’s broom that broke.”  

George did not issue his brother any regrets and instead sent him a wink, whipping his wand out of robes and shouting “Repairo!”

The broom snapped back together and Angelina, who was desperate to get back in the air, looked to you, “You alright then?” 

You nodded with a grin and turned back to Fred who was testing the strength of his brother's repair. 

“Thank you so much Fred,” You gushed, looking up at him through your lashes. 

The boy's heart skipped a beat, stomach lurching, “It was no problem really.” He breathed and miraculously found you in his arms for the second time as you lunged towards him.

“Thank you.” You murmured into his robes before disconnecting and swiftly boarding your broom again. 

Fred watched you leave struck for a moment. Alicia shot him a thumbs up and a grin before he was able to clumsily climb onto his own broom and follow you back up into the air. 

By dinner the story of your fall had been told and retold so many times that you were now said to have plummeted upwards of a hundred meters before Fred had heroically scooped you onto his own broom, saving what was sure to be your life. 

In the great hall you kept getting asked if you were okay as down the table Fred got clapped on the shoulder and congratulated for his great save. He seemed to be enjoying the new story a fair bit more than you were. 

Finn had come over to ask about you halfway through dinner but you found suddenly that he was no less than boring and he returned to the Hufflepuff table after a few short minutes with a look of disappointment on his face. 

Fred watched this with such delight he was sure he was glowing. George -who he had been applauding as the best wingman one could ask for all day- poked him hard in the side and pointed down the table to where you sat. Fred turned to catch your eyes already on him. He winked exuberantly and you turned away with a scoff, but your cheeks had taken a rather deep shade of red. 

He grinned so wide at George he thought his lips might split, “I mean this is some real progress!” He cheered, “Did you see that? She was staring at me!” 

Down the hall you turned to Alicia, cheeks still pink, “Have you ever noticed how tall Fred is?” You asked so suddenly she choked on her pumpkin juice. 

You stared at her curiously as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve smiling, “Oh yeah very tall.”

You hummed looking back down the table at the elder twin who was now laughing wildly at something Lee had said, “I guess I never really thought about it before.” 

Angilina shot Alicia a glance as you were distracted and the two of them broke out into giggles. 

“What?” You demanded though you were still smiling. 

“Oh nothing.” Angilina grinned and you huffed turning back to your dinner. 

You found yourself wishing Fred had chosen to sit a bit closer to you as you watched a group of girls across from him break out into giggles at something he said, “There's no way he's that funny.” You muttered knowing he in fact was. 

  Yet you couldn’t find yourself being all that jealous as he kept glancing up at you, as if checking to make sure you were still watching him and much to his delight you always were. His shoulders, you noticed from where you sat picking at plum pudding, were quite wide, his arms toned. It was no wonder that he had engulfed you completely out on the pitch. 

How had I never noticed this before? You found yourself wondering. How had he managed to escape your list of potential suitors when he was so obviously perfect for you?

The thought struck you rather abruptly and while you would have liked to have sat with it for a minute, Alicia was standing and you knew it was time to head back to the common room. 

As students began to flood from the hall you fiddled with the sleeves of your robes, thoughts full of brown eyes and freckles . 

As if summoned, Fred appeared at your side grinning widely, “Hello.”

“Hey Fred,” replied Alicia. 

“Have you guys heard the news?” He asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You tried hard not to blush and instead shook your head, staring at the floor. “Apparently, you owe me your life.” He was beaming down at you now and you found it hard to look away. 

“Oh yeah?” You smirked, “And I heard it was actually you who hit me with that bludger.” 

His smile disappeared only momentarily and you were happy to see it recover so quickly. 

“Ah well, I figured Angelina wouldn’t keep her mouth shut.” He shrugged, “Though I swear if I had a choice I would have knocked her off her broom instead.” 

And for the first time that evening jealousy took you strongly, “Oh yeah? I suppose she would have been a bit more fun to catch then?” 

Fred looked startled by your bristly reaction, “Nah,” He responded, “That would have been Georgie’s job.” 

You were satisfied with this answer and felt yourself leaning against him as you began up towards the tower.

George was delighted to see you still tucked beneath his brother's arm when you reached the common room. He called you over to where he sat and you placed yourself in a large squishy armchair as Fred perched himself beside you on an ottoman. 

You spent your evening rather uneventfully, finishing an essay for Snape as the Gryffindors slowly filtered off to bed in pairs. When George rose to take himself to the dormitory you expected Fred to follow but instead he stayed rooted by your feet where he now sat cross legged on the carpet looking over what looked like an extensive order form. 

Hours later you yawned, stretching when you finally finished your work. It was now well past midnight and only a few fifth years remained, cramming for a quiz in transfiguration the next day. You turned to look at Fred who had long since sprawled himself across the couch before the fire and found him snoring softly. 

A jolt of infatuation made your stomach flip. His messy hair glowed shockingly bright in the fire light, his pink lips slightly agape. You gathered your things slowly, sure not to wake him before you stood beside him.

You knew you should wake him, you were the reason he had not retreated to bed after all. But he looked so peaceful like this, so soft. Instead you found yourself slowly counting the freckles that sprawled across his cheeks, leaning close to brush a strand of his bright red hair out of his face. He woke immediately at your touch, large brown eyes locking with your own.

You felt your cheeks go hot, “You should go up to bed.” You mumbled beginning to pull away. 

He snatched your wrist with such haste it took you by surprise, “Do that again.” he spoke.

You furrowed your brow, “What?” 

“With my hair,” It was his turn to blush now, “Touch my hair again.” 

It felt as though the air was sucked from your lungs yet you found yourself obeying, fingers coming to comb through the soft waves that spread across his forehead. 

He hummed, leaning into your touch slowly, gaze still locked with yours. The two of you stayed there for a moment, you kneeling beside him fingers in his hair, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist. 

“I’m sorry.” He murmured and you looked at him confused. 

“For what?” 

“Hitting you with a bludger.” he responded remorsefully. 

You laughed softly, your head thrown back, “It's okay Fred.” you grinned. You were close now, so close Fred could feel the tickle of your breath on his cheek, “I forgive you. You made up for it after all.” 

He smirked in spite of himself, “I suppose I did, saving your life and all.” 

You were giggling again and Fred was sure he was in some beautiful dream where all he could ever hear or see was your joy. 

“I wouldn’t push your luck if I were you.” You grinned, “I may just chuck the quaffle at your head when you're not looking.” 

“Only if you catch me when I fall.” Fred whispered, leaning closer still. 

You let him, your lips connecting slowly. You were pleased to find he was a fantastic kisser, his lips soft and plush, eager to please. His free hand cupped your cheek as he pulled you closer still until you were practically on top of him.

One of the alarm clocks the fifth years had been attempting to turn to roosters burst to life and you pulled away abruptly remembering bitterly that you and him were not the only ones in the room. Fred chased after your lips with his own desperate for even a moment more with your mouth.

“You should get to bed.” You repeated standing now, knees a bit shaky. 

Fred was disappointed by your departure but grinned wildly nonetheless as you gathered your books into your arms and turned back to him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Fred.” You yawned and began up the stairs to your dormitory determined not to let him see the childish glee that had spread across your face. 

“Wait!” He called after you, lurching from the couch and stopping at the bottom of the steps. 

You turned back to him taking in the wonderful sight of him staring lovingly up at you. He looked delightfully disheveled, his hair a mess and his lips swollen from your touch. You took two steps down now only one above where he stood on the hardwood floor.

You looked down at him expectantly as his eyes bore into your own. 

He lifted himself onto his toes and grabbed your shoulders forcinging you forward where you connected for a second time. 

This time his breath was hot and heavy on your lips, his earnest intensifying to a level that you could only describe as hunger. Your feet dangled momentarily in the air as he lifted you fervently into his embrace. You were suddenly engulfed in Fred again, he was all you could smell sweet and cinnamon, all you could hear were his pants in your ear, all you could feel was him, his arms around your middle, his thigh pressed between your legs and his lips and tongue working so well together that it was you who chased after him this time, whining in protest when he pulled back.

You stared at him, out of breath and stunned to silence. 

Fred looked as though he had just won something very expensive the way he was grinning with triumph, his eyes dark with lust. 

 “Sweet dreams love.” He murmured leaning down to give you one final kiss, his lips moving sickeningly slow against your own, wet and warm. He hovered inches form your lips for a moment, as if debating diving back in, before he backed away tucking his hands casually into his robes.

“You should go to bed, love.” He smirked, “We’ve got an early practice tomorrow and I do believe you made me a promise about knocking me off my broom.” 

You bit your lip to keep from breaking into girlish giggles. Your heart was still pounding as though you had just run a long race. 

“Only if you swear to catch me though.” He added with a wink.

“I’ll always catch you Freddie.” you assured him before turning and hurrying back up the stairs, grinning so wide your cheeks had begun to ache.

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