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#little harry packing a backpack and running away to the weasleys
padfootastic · 1 year
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in a turn of events that doesn’t surprise anyone im sure, @impishtubist has caused yet another scene to be stuck in my head until i wrote it down. so, have some sexy, greying sirius; a deeply thirsty, appreciative james who won’t let him dye it; and a very-fed-up-of-his-parents-antics harry for prongsfoot wednesday!
x
Harry entered the house with ‘I’m home!’ on his lips that died an instant death as soon as he registered what he was seeing.
“Er,” he hesitated. Does he really want to—? One more look at the scene in front of him and he decided to bite the bullet. Better to clear the air now than keep stewing on it later.
“Um. Is this a—kink? A fetish? Should I leave and never come back?”
In any other scenario, the way both his parents froze and looked at him with wide eyes would’ve been comical.
If only Dad wasn’t straddling his Papa on the ground, one of his hands holding both of Papa’s above him with disturbing ease.
“Er—“
“It’s not what it looks like, Haz!” Dad yelped, cutting across Papa who’s face and neck were turning a steady pink. “I swear.”
“Then why are you still—like that?” Harry asked, deciding to play it safe and look at the boring grey couch in the living room instead. Nothing scandalous going on there.
He could hear the scrambling of feet, a few thumps, and a mini-yelp, absently wondering about the amount of noise the simple act of getting up could produce.
“Right.” Dad cleared his throat. “So, Harry, would you please tell your Papa that he is, under no circumstances, allowed to dye his hair?”
Harry blinks, turning to his other, exasperated, father in silent question.
“Harry, will you please tell your Dad that this is my hair and I can do with it as I please?”
“Not when you promised yourself to me!” Dad yelps and Harry is hit with an intense wave of regret at instigating this.
“Promised—?”
“Yes! Our wedding, you said, and I quote, ‘I give myself to you, James Potter, mind, body and soul’, don’t tell me you forgot.”
“Of course I didn’t forget,” Papa throws his hands up in the air. “But c’mon James—this is not what I meant when I said body!”
“What, you think I only wanted you for that ars—“
“Dad!” Harry, yelps, mortified. He can feel his cheeks heating in a violent blush. He can feel a similar flush creeping up Papa’s neck. Sadly, his words don’t have the deterring effect he’d intended.
“I mean, it is spectacular, don’t get me wrong, but you’re more than just a beautiful body, Si!”
“James, please, have some mercy for our child, if not me,” Papa says. Thankfully, this seems to register as Dad’s eye widened, part horror and part apology. Harry waves it away tiredly; though he’s no less embarrassed every time it happens, growing up in the Potter household with two extremely affectionate parents has exposed him to much worse. He’s accepted it as his lot in life.
“Er—yeah, anyway,” he coughs, ruffling his hair, “Bottom line—Sirius isn’t allowed to dye his hair.”
“I literally never agreed to that.”
“Too bad because you will,” Dad says, slowly moving towards Papa with a look on his face that Harry is loath to describe as predatory. If only it wasn’t so true.
“Oh?” Papa’s left eyebrow rises extraordinarily high, as it tends to do quite often. He crosses his arms over his chest in challenge. The motion makes his Dad smile.
“Mhm.” The two of them are chest-to-chest by this point, staring into each other’s eyes. Harry could probably conduct a whole rave party right here, right then, and they wouldn’t even notice. That is when he decides it’s high time he should step in—not literally, Merlin, no—before they end up doing something that makes him try to run away (again).
“So I was right—it is a kink,” Harry says dryly, once again regretting starting this entire conversation in the first place. He should’ve just turned back around and gone to the Weasleys instead.
“Harry, no—“
x
Three years later, Harry—who’s almost blissfully forgotten about the entire incident—walks into his parents’ house to an almost identical scene, just with his Papa on top this time. This time, he makes the sensible choice he still regrets not making all those years ago, and walks right back out the door.
Let those two sort it out on their own. Merlin knows his intervention hadn’t helped a bit the last time around.
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Camping
Prompt: You, Fred, George, Ginny and the trio decide to have some fun over summer break and go on a camping trip, except without the magic tents. Just some friends and some nature. Well, except for you and Fred, who are both pining over each other while thinking the other doesn't share their feelings. That is until you get particularly cold one night.
Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!, Camping, Swearing, Fluffy ending, I think that’s it.
A/N: Oh, to be fucked in a tent by Fred Weasley. The dream really. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! LMK if you have any requests!
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You let out a sigh of relief as you let your heavy backpack fall to the ground. The hike had been long, almost three hours, but the scenery from the mountain top where you and your friends were currently standing made it worth it.
It was Hermione's idea to go camping. She had talked about how fun it was when she had gone with her family, and thought it would be a good way to get out and spend some time together over the summer, and the twins only having been wizard camping with magic tents wanted the full muggle camping experience.
You were looking over the view when your eyes landed on Fred’s as he was looking at you, a smile on his face.
“Take a picture it’ll last longer” You joked to the older red head.
“Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view” He replied
You only smiled and rolled your eyes, moving to unpack your bag and start setting up the campsite. You and the twins were in the same year, and had been friends ever since your first day at Hogwarts, but you only saved your flirty jokes for Fred. 
“How in the bloody hell does this work?” Ron mumbled to Hermione, stretching out the fabric of the tent he would be sharing with Harry.
“You have to put the poles through it” Hermione explained, taking the fabric from him and showing him how to set up the tent, Fred and George watching from the side.
You and Hermione's family's had both had some camping supplies, so you brought everything you thought you would need, including four tents. Three doubles for Fred and George, Harry and Ron, and Ginny and Hermione, and a single for you. You honestly didn’t mind the solitude though, in fact you were pretty excited to get some uninterrupted sleep.
A few hours later, and sleep was the last thing that you were expecting to get. The temperature had gone down with the sun, and your sleeping bag was doing little to protect you from the cold that filled your tent.
You were just about to see if you had packed another sweater to put on, when you heard shuffling from outside, causing you to freeze up. You clenched your teeth to stop them from chattering as you strained your ears, trying to hear what the sound could have been before-
“Hey Y/n, you awake?” Fred’s voice whispered from outside the tent, causing you to huff out a breath, opening your tent flap to glare at the red head.
“Fred! You scared the shit out of me what's wrong with you?” You whisper yelled, backing up as Fred came to sit inside the tent with you, his sleeping bag wrapped around him.
“Oh stop it you love me” Fred shot back, now fully inside the tent and sitting cross legged across from you. “George wont stop snoring, can I bunk in here with you?”
“Fred... It’s tiny in here you wont fit” You tried to argue.
“Just scooch over, it’ll be fine” He said back, already moving to one side of the tent and pushing your sleeping bag over to lay his down, unwrapping it from around himself to reveal he was shirtless underneath. 
You averted your eyes, trying to hide the blush on your face.
“Fine, but I swear if you kick me-” You started.
“I’ll be gentle, I promise” Fred joked, causing the light blush from earlier to now heat up your entire face.
You shifted a bit, making more room before laying back down, facing away from Fred. A few minutes past and the cold had seeped into your bones, causing you to start shivering again. You pulled your knees into your chest, trying to preserve your body heat until you fell asleep, but you were interrupted.
“Y/N...” Fred whispered from behind you.
“What?” You whispered back a bit angrily, irritated that the cold was keeping you awake.
“Are you cold?” Fred asked, completely ignoring your tone. 
“No it’s a fucking sauna in here” you replied sarcastically.
“Come here” Fred said after a moment, causing you to roll over to face him, your eyes widening.
“What?” You asked
“Come here, I’ll keep you warm” Fred said simply. 
You looked at him dumbly. The possibility of somehow embarrassing yourself in front of your longtime crush was very real, however, you could already feel the heat radiating off of him, and your toes were practically numb-
“For Merlin's sake Y/N, your teeth are chattering, would you just come here so maybe we could both get some sleep?” Fred asked, lifting the edge of his sleeping bag.
“Fine, but no funny business” you said, trying to be casual, like you weren't about to practically cuddle your long time crush.
“You insult me, I’m a gentlemen” He replied
You opened your sleeping bag and carefully shifted yourself until you were in Fred's, turning so your back was once again facing him. Once you were inside, Fred lowered his arm, encasing the both of you in the sleeping bag before wrapping his arm around your waist, causing the butterflies in your stomach to erupt.
A few minutes had past, and you were still shivering a bit, Fred's body heat taking its time to seep through the three sweaters you were currently wearing.
“You know” Fred started “If you took your clothes off you’d get warmer faster” He said suggestively, causing you to roll your eyes.
“If you’re just going to make fun of me I can go, I’m sure Hermione and Ginny could make room” You shot back, your nerves getting the better of you.
“I’m serious!” Fred defended, any hint of joking from his voice leaving “Your feet are freezing and you’ve barely warmed up at all, but if it makes you uncomfortable you don’t have to” Fred finished. 
You pondered for a minute. Fred sounded genuine, and it was unlikely either of you would get any sleep with you practically vibrating from the cold. So without saying a word, you sat up and began to strip the layers off your body until you were only in your bra, underwear, and socks, laying down again, with your back facing Fred.
“Bra stays on” You mumbled, causing Fred to chuckle from behind you, before returning to his original position with his arm wrapped around you, this time his skin coming in direct contact with you.
You warmed up fairly quickly, both from body heat, and the fact that you and Fred have never been this close and your heart was racing at a trillion miles per hours. You had just started to get a hold on your jitters, when Fred moved his hand, trailing his fingers up your side and making small patterns on your arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.
“Is this ok?” Fred asked, a gentleness to his tone
“Mhm” You mumbled, the action starting to lull you to sleep, before you felt his hand move from your arm to your shoulder, then to your neck, then to the side of your face, his feather light touches almost tickling your skin.
“Is this?” Fred asked once again.
“Yeah” You replied, a bit more awake now, then again, you could be dreaming. However the possibility of this moment being in your imagination was quickly whisked away when you felt warm lips connect to your shoulder, before moving up toward your neck, leaving short wet kisses in his wake, he finally landed just below your ear.
“Is this ok?” He whispered, 
You turned in the sleeping bag so you were now facing him, “Yes” You said before moving your hand to cup his face, and closing the space between you. Fred took no time to react, moving his arm to wrap around your waist and pull you closer to him, your chest now fully pressed against his.
Without breaking the kiss, you moved your hand from his face down to his chest, when you gently pushed him backwards, so he was now laying on his back, and you were straddling him, Fred's large hands coming to rest on your thighs. 
Fred gently bit your lower lip, and you opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to intertwine with yours. As the kiss deepened, your hips began to rock against his, his hardened member now painfully obvious.
You trailed one of your hands up his chest, landing on his head before entangling your fingers in his hair and giving it a light tug. This sent Fred over the edge, gripping your legs to flip you over so you were now laying beneath him, a started yelp escaping your lips.
“Shh, darling. We need to be quiet” Fred rasped into your ear, placing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, causing a chill to run down your spine, before his reached around behind you, unclasping your bra which you quickly discarded
Fred continued to kiss downwards, his hand coming upwards to grasp your breast as his lips met the other, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh, before continuing the attack on the other, most likely leaving marks for the morning.
He continued kissing downwards, stopping once he reached the elastic of your panties, looking up at you and kissing the inside of your knee, your thigh, your hips, everywhere except where you needed him.
“Fred please stop teasing I- oh god!” You started, protesting his slow pace before quickly moving the fabric to the side, licking a long stripe from your core to your bundle of nerves.
Your head fell back against your pillows, one hand moving to cover your mouth while the other went down to run your fingers through his hair, Fred moaning as you pulled on his fiery strands, sending the vibrations straight to your core.
As Fred continued to eat you out, you struggled to remain quiet, the hand covering your mouth doing almost nothing to contain your moans. You were just about to reach your high, your head rolling back and your toes curling when Fred pulled away.
“What the fuck Fred?” You almost sobbed, frustrated that he had stolen your orgasm. Fred crawled his way back up your body, quickly pulling his wand out from beside the sleeping bag, and casting a silencing charm on the tent.
“I want to be inside you when you come, and I want to hear you screaming my name” Fred whispered into your ear, causing your eyes to widen at the boldness of his statement. Your surprise was quickly overcome with lust as Fred leaned down to re connect your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on him.
You broke the kiss and quickly kicked your panties the rest of the way off, Fred moving to remove his pajama pants, freeing his cock which slapped against his toned stomach. You gasped as Fred guided himself to your core, teasing your folds before slowly pushing into you, his size stretching you perfectly.
He waited a few seconds for you to adjust, only moving when you nodded that you were ready. He pulled out half way, before slowly thrusting back, bottoming out completely before repeating his movements, gaining speed with each thrust.
Fred brushed past your spot with each snap of his hips, making it impossible to contain your moans. Your hands moved up his back, digging your fingernails into his back desperate to bring him closer.
“So fucking perfect, you take my cock so well” Fred practically growled, sucking marks into the crook of your neck as his high approached.
“Oh fuck Fred, I- I’m close” You gasped, the coil in your stomach getting tighter with each trust.
Fred reached down and lifted your leg over his shoulder, creating a whole new angle that hit that one spot perfectly every time, before moving his fingers to your core, making small fast circles around your clit.
“Cum for me baby” Fred said, and a few seconds later the coil in your stomach snapped, your back arching as you rode out your orgasm.
Fred’s thrusts became sloppy as he came shorty after you, helping you to ride out your orgasm, before finally slowing to a stop. You stayed like that for a moment, catching your breath as you came down from your high, before Fred pulled out of you, causing you to whine from the empty feeling. 
He laid back in him original spot, the both of you staring at the ceiling for a moment, before a chuckle escaped your lips, causing Fred to look over at you.
“No funny business” You quoted yourself from earlier, “That was a fucking lie”
Both you and Fred erupted into a fit of laughter, the sudden realization of ‘I just fucked my best friend, and it was awesome’ setting in.
“Bra stays on” Fred quoted you from earlier “Also a fucking lie” 
“Would you have rather it stayed on?” You asked through giggles
“Oh hell no, in fact, get rid of it I never want to see it again” Fred replied, sending you both into another fit of chuckles.
“That's what I thought” You said once the laughing had died down, suddenly becoming a bit self conscious about the whole situation as a thousand questions went through your mind. Was this a one time thing? Does he actually like me or did he just want to fuck? Should I move? Should I-
“I think I’m in love with you” Fred suddenly said from beside you, your head snapping to look at him, his eyes already on you.
“What?” You asked, not sure if you were hearing him correctly.
“I think I’m in love with you. I have been for a while actually” Fred started, causing your brain to short-circuit “Your so funny, and kind, and smart, and fuck you're so hot, but you’re also so beautiful and I just-”
You cut off Fred’s rambling by connecting the space between you once again, connecting your lips to his, one to show that you felt the same way, but to also double check to make sure you weren't dreaming. 
“I think I love you too” You said after you broke away from the kiss, a smile crossing the red heads face.
“Yeah?” He asked.
“Yeah” You replied, smiling back at him.
Fred leaned down and kissed you again, before wrapping his arms around you pulling you closer to him, your head now resting on his chest, his heartbeat beginning to lull you to sleep.
“Y/N?” Fred asked, whispering so he didn’t startle you.
“Hmm?” You mumbled back, already half asleep.
“Are you still cold? Because if you are we could always go for round two?” Fred asked jokingly, laughing when you smacked his shoulder.
“Fred!”
Needless to say... there was a round two.
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A/N: SMUT WITH PLOT??? In this economy??? 
Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed! I don’t write smut very often so I hope it was ok! Feel free to leave any requests or comments if you’d like. Also i have a taglist now so lmk if you want to be added! Love you all!
Taglist:  @levylovegood​
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pregnant-piggy · 4 years
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Quidditch Cup
Charlie Weasley x reader
Words: 7.6k 
Warnings: none, it’s a tad long?
A/N: Charlie deserves so much more recognition, he is such an underrated character in the books, films and in fanfiction. I really enjoyed writing for him, since he has so little character in canon there is so much you can do with him
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The whole Weasley household was upside down. The rest of world was still silent and asleep but the Weasleys were awake and running around the house packing the last things they had forgotten. Molly was making sandwiches while checking her children's backpacks. She was looking forward to have a few days to herself. She hadn't had that in a long time. She had planned everything out already; after she sent her oldest three away she would take a bath, she would cook dinner for herself and make something no one else in her family liked.
Arthur was feeling in his pocket every minute, afraid he would forget the tickets he had worked so hard for the past months. He was quite nervous; he never actually did things with the kids without Molly. She was always the one that made sure they were packed and ready to go. Now he wouldn't have Molly with him, but maybe it was better. His wife was stressed out and frankly, so was Arthur. Their children were growing older and had to make important life-decisions. Molly and Arthur tried to help them as good as they could, but their kids had minds of their own.
Ginny and Hermione were already downstairs in the kitchen eating their eggs and sausages while talking about what they were expecting. Both of them had never been to an official Quidditch match, Hermione being a muggleborn and Ginny yet too young. So they were excited. Hermione was mostly looking forward to seeing wizards and witches from other countries. Of course she had read about them, but now she could see them and maybe even meet them. Ginny couldn't wait to see the game. None of her brothers, but Charlie, knew that Ginny was an excellent Quidditch-player. When her four older brothers were at school she and Charlie, who still lived home back then, would take broomsticks and balls to the field behind the Burrow and play Quidditch until they were too tired.
Ginny had always looked up to Charlie. Though she would never admit it to anyone, he was her favourite brother. He was the only one that treated her like an equal instead of a younger sister. Charlie would talk with her about things her other brothers wouldn't because they thought she was too young to understand. He always was there for Ginny, so when he left to Hogwarts and she could only see him in the vacations Ginny was devastated. And then later when he moved to Romania, Ginny could only write to him and she rarely saw him. She missed him, his bright presence in the Burrow.
And for the boys? Percy, Bill and Charlie were still asleep. They would disapparate to the campsite later in the afternoon. Percy in his own room, probably dreaming about his cauldron-report. He was excited about the Quidditch-match, of course, but it was not the main reason he was joining his family there. He also thought it would be a good opportunity for him to meet with foreign wizards and it would show Mr. Crouch that Percy could maintain a professional attitude even when surrounded by... well, idiots.
Bill and Charlie were put together in the twins' room. They had stayed up all night, helping their parents with packing. Mr. Weasley had asked for their help after seeing his wife break down over a white sock in her red laundry. Charlie and Bill immediately made sure there was nothing their mother would have to worry about. They had gone to bed early in the morning after discussing the weird objects in Fred’s and George's room. It had left them both with tears from laughter and they were happy to be home for a while.
The other four boys in the house were getting dressed, too tired to talk. They tried to cover their half-naked bodies from each other but after Ron fell while trying to put on pants and hide behind his bed they gave up. With the sleep still in their eyes they walked down and were greeted by an enthusiastic Ginny and Hermione. Mrs. Weasley gave them breakfast and they gobbled in their eggs, too tired to talk.
After Fred had run up and down the stairs three times to get everything he needed, everyone was ready to set off. Molly kissed all of them goodbye, including Hermione and Harry, which gave the latter a warm feeling in his stomach. In silence they walked off the Weasley's property and started their way up the hills.
Harry was listening to Mr. Weasley who was talking about the measures the Ministry had taken to make sure everything was well organised. They were walking ahead, followed by Fred and George who were softly talking because they were still tired and they didn't want the others to hear. Ron walked behind his brothers. No one dared to talk to him; his grumpy face was more than enough for everyone to just leave him alone. All the way at the back walked Hermione and Ginny. Hermione was telling Ginny what to expect in her third year and Ginny admitted to Hermione that she wanted to try for the Quidditch-team when the season started at Hogwarts.
After walking for a small hour they reached the top of the hill. They were the first ones there. Mr. Weasley sat down on a fallen tree and looked around happily.
‘Who are we waiting for, dad?’ Fred asked.
‘Mr. Diggory and his son, uh... Sander, Rick, Simon?’
‘Cedric?’ Harry helped Mr. Weasley.
‘Yes, that one,’ Arthur said and looked at his watch. ‘And (Y/N). They must be here in a few minutes.’
A grin spread on George's and Fred's faces simultaneously.
‘(Y/N) is coming too?’ Ginny asked.
‘Yes, her parents didn't want to come so your mother was so polite to invite her. She will be staying with us.’
Harry looked at Hermione who was just as confused. He had never heard of a (Y/N).
‘Uhh, who is (Y/N)?’ Hermione asked.
‘Charlie's best friend,’ Ron answered.
‘They went to Hogwarts together. She lives a little down the road from the village,’ Arthur added pointing at the village below them.
‘Charlie totally has the hots for her,’ George said and his siblings laughed.
‘George!’ Mr. Weasley cried out.
‘Come on, dad! It's true! Whenever she is around he is nervous and doesn't know how to act!’
‘One time he climbed a tree and broke his arm when he fell,’ Fred said to Harry with a big smile. Harry chuckled. He didn't know Charlie very well and he couldn't imagine him acting all though around a girl.
But before Harry could even start to imagine, Mr. Weasley jumped up and spread his arms at Amos Diggory who was followed by Cedric.
Amos was just as the Weasleys carrying a big backpack which was filled with a tent and camping gear. His ‘muggle-clothes’ existed of cargo shorts and a polo-shirt that was two sizes too big, tucked into his pants and everything was held together by a belt. Compared to what other wizards wore it looked normal.
‘Arthur! My friend! How are you, my boy?’ Amos said loudly and Fred and Ron, who were still not really awake, covered their ears with their hands.
Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory started talking. Cedric awkwardly stood next to his father. Fred and George shot him angry looks; they still weren't over the Quidditch-match they lost last year.
The two girls stood a little further away and giggled. Ginny had told Hermione a gossip about Cedric. She had heard from a fifth-year Ravenclaw that Cedric missed his left nipple. Even though they both didn't believe it, the girls bursted out into giggling after Ginny said it.
‘Are we waiting for someone?’ Amos asked Arthur.
‘Yes, (Y/N) should be here any minute now.’
o-o-o
The alarm hadn't even rung yet before you woke up. You hadn't slept all night; you were too excited. It was your first World Championship Quidditch and you were thankful for the opportunity to go.
Your parents didn't want to go and neither did any of your friends. Because you did not want to go alone you had given up. But last week you had ran into Molly and she had invited you over to the Burrow.
You had not seen the Weasleys in a while. Charlie was away to Romania for his job and you felt it was kind of awkward to meet up with his family without him. Plus, you were busy with your job and trying to find your own place.
Right now, you were still living with your parents. Which was fine, but you really wanted to have your own place. Coming home after a long day and then seeing your father on the couch just didn't make you very happy.
When you sat down with Molly for tea, the subject of Quidditch came around and when you told her that you couldn't go to the match, she told you how Arthur could get tickets for it and after a while she had convinced you to go too.
So that was why you stepped out of your door at 4.30 in the morning, when the sun had not even risen fully and the grass around your house was still wet. The road to the Portkey would only take you thirty  minutes. You know you were a bit late. Your mother had wanted to make sure you had everything you needed and she took way too long for that.
After twenty-five minutes of walking you could hear the voices of your travel companions already above you on the hill. Two minutes later you recognised the red heads that were waiting for you. You walked up to then and were greeted by Arthur.
‘(Y/N)! Good to see you! How have you been?’
‘Good. Hey guys,’ you said to the Weasleys. Fred and George both hugged you at the same time and you laughed while petting them on their heads. ‘You have grown! How old are you now, 13?’ you teased the twins and when they let you go they stuck out there tongues to you.
‘Arthur, the Portkey?’ Mr. Diggory reminded the man who was looking at you with a smile.
‘Oh, yes, yes, the Portkey,’ Arthur mumbled and he looked around. ‘It must be here somewhere.’
Everyone started to look for an object that could be a Portkey. For a few minutes it was silent and Arthur got a bit nervous. The Portkey would leave in two minutes, with or without them. If they missed it there would be a big chance they would not get to see the Quidditch-match at all.
‘Here!’ Amos yelled and as fast as they could, everyone walked over to him.
In his hand Amos was holding a blue rubber boot. Everyone stepped around it and put their finger on the boot.
It was silent. Your heart was beating in your throat. Fred's shoulder was against yours and you looked over the boot at Ron. He was staring at the object with sleepy eyes. It was obvious he was still not fully awake.
A sudden pull and everyone got lifted in the air. The world around started to change. The brown of the trees shifted into green grass. The silence of the hill changed for the chatter of hundreds of wizards. The shadows that were created by the trees disappeared and the rising sun shone watery on the field the Portkey landed on.
Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, Cedric and you managed to keep standing, but the rest fell on the ground. Ron's knees smacked on the ground and he rolled over the ground in pain. Ginny did her best not to laugh and her face turned red.
‘Ah, Weasley,’ a wizard in a purple bathrobe over skinny jeans greeted Arthur after he had said goodbye to the Diggories. The wizard explained where they had to go.
Following the instructions the group walked past hundreds of tents. It was very silent; it was of course only 5.30 in the morning and everyone was still asleep. The only other person they saw was a minister that had a quick conversation with Mr. Weasley.
The tents almost looked like normal tents. Almost. Most people made the mistake of putting chimneys or front doors on their tents. It was easy to recognize the tents from the wizards who rarely were in contact with muggles.
But some wizards didn't even consider muggle-looking tents. There were tents that looked like houses, with multiple floors and windows. They passed a small palace with a real tiger in front of the door. There even was one tent that was made completely of glass. Everyone was able to see the old man that was sleeping in his bed.
After a ten minute walk they reached the open spot for the tents. Mr. Weasley dropped his bag on the ground and looked around proudly.
‘The arena is on the other side of the forest,’ he said and pointed at the woods a little further.
Harry curiously peeked over at the forest but he could see nothing but trees. There was no arena to be seen.
Meanwhile Mr. Weasley, with the help of Fred and George, had unpacked the tents. He was looking at it confused while ticking his wand against his leg. His tongue was between his teeth and he was blowing out air with a high pitched sound.
‘Can't we just use magic?’ Fred asked when his father put away his wand. Mr. Weasley shook his head.
‘No, the Ministry specifically asked not to use magic,’ Arthur said and sat down at his knees. ‘This can't be very hard,’ he guessed.
But he guessed wrong. No one had actually ever put up a tent and everyone had their own ideas on how to do it. After a lot of arguing the two tents finally stood in the right place. One for the boys and one for the girls.
The boys’ tent was bigger, but they had to share it with eight people. It had a living room and kitchen, a bathroom and two bedrooms. Bill and Charlie would take one room, Mr. Weasley and Percy the other. In the living room there were two bunkbeds for Harry, Ron, George and Fred.
The girls' tent was smaller and more cosy. The bedroom, kitchen and living area were all the same room. Only the bathroom was separated.
Though both tents had a fully functional kitchen Arthur insisted that they made a fire and do it the ‘muggle way'. He took some wood from the forest and started on a fire. Ron, Harry and Hermione went to get water.
You sat down next to Ginny in front of the boys' tent. She was looking at all the people that walked by. More and more people were waking up and if it hadn’t been clear yet that the campsite was crowded with wizards, it was now. There were people who magically conjured breakfast buffets so big and extensive no muggle could even dream it. Or wizards would start a fire with a flick of their wand, hoping the ministers that were walking all around the campsite wouldn't notice.
Some people were still just wearing wizard's clothes, but most of them wore what they thought muggles wore. A few people managed to look like actual muggles, but the bigger part was wearing awful combinations, which lead to great laughter from you and Ginny. There was one woman in dungarees with nothing underneath it (Fred and George, who had joined you and Ginny, were suddenly very interested in the grass at their feet). The man from the glass tent wore a quilt and tank top. But the most hilarious one was the old man walking around in a gala dress, completely unaware of the looks other people were giving him.
After you and the Weasleys were done laughing and the other three had come back from getting water it was time for lunch. Molly had given her children sandwiches and Hermione shared hers with you. While eating the bread and waiting for the water to boil Mr. Weasley provided commentary about the ministers that walked past their tent.
The more time passed, the more the tension in the air increased. The match wouldn't start for hours and you got tired. You hadn't slept a lot and decided it would be better to catch some rest. So you retreated back to the girl's tent to lie down.
Harry and Ron went to visit Seamus and Dean, who they had come across when getting water earlier. Arthur joined a colleague on a tour around the campsite, Ginny went looking for a friend and Hermione also thought it would be good to get some rest and joined you in the tent. You talked with her for a while but eventually fell asleep.
It was around this time Percy, Charlie and Bill arrived at the tents. They only saw Fred and George who were discussing something in front of the tent. Mr. Weasley came back only a few minutes later and showed his sons the tent.
Percy immediately went away to search Crouch and Bill and Charlie sat down next to the twins. Bill started a conversation with his father and Fred and George turned to Charlie.
‘Why didn't you tell us (Y/N) was coming?’ George asked.
‘Wait, (Y/N) is here?’ Charlie asked surprised. No one had told him that. ‘You mean on this field?’
Fred chuckled and nugded his twin brother. They were seeing the exact same. As soon as Charlie heard your name he sat up straight and looked around the field.
‘No, like in that tent,’ Fred laughed and gestured at the smaller tent next to them.
Charlie's jaw dropped but he recollected himself quickly. He glanced over his shoulder at the open opening of the tent but from his position he couldn't see anything.
Charlie didn't have to wait long to see you though. The noise that was created by the arrival of the three Weasleys had woken you from your nap. You quickly freshed up and left the tent with Hermione.
You were nervous to see Charlie. You hadn't seen him in a long time, only written. And although Charlie had been home for two weeks you hadn't visited him. When you were invited by Molly he hadn't been home and you had not returned.
So when you stepped out of the tent and were greeted by the sun shining in your eyes, the nerves were rushing through your body. Protecting your eyes from the sun with your hand you looked to your left. Charlie was sitting with his back to you and opposite of were the twins seated. When they saw you a grin appeared on both their faces. Something Charlie also noticed because he turned around to see what they were looking at.
‘Hey, Charls,’ you greeted the man sitting at your feet. For as long as he could remember you had called Charlie Charls. So it was normal for him to hear it, but now, when the name rolled off your tongue, Charlie's stomach turned upside down.
He hadn't seen you in so long he had almost forgotten how beautiful you were. Your cheeks were red from the heat in the tent and your eyes were still half closed, like you had just woken up. Which you had, but Charlie didn't know. But the glinstering in them was still the same as always. And when you smiled at him Charlie turned red, almost as red as his hair.
‘Hello, (Y/N),’ Charlie greeted you back and you sat down next to him.
George laughed at his older brother when he turned even more red because you kissed him on his cheek. Charlie sent him a dirty look and George quickly stopped laughing; he still had to sleep in the same tent as Charlie.
‘You want to take a walk?’ you suggested and Charlie happily accepted your suggestion.
The sun was setting and painted the whole campsite orange. It only was an hour before the Quidditch-finale started and people were sitting in front of their tents, eating dinner.
‘So, how was Romania?’ you asked after a few minutes of silence.
‘Wonderful. It was great to work there. They had huge isolated areas for the dragons there. It was amazing to see how they lived in freedom instead of the prisoned sites they have here...’
Charlie continued to talk about how much fun he had had in Romania and you smiled at his enthusiasm. You had always loved it when Charlie talked about his passion. He would light up and the biggest smile would appear on his face. Even though you always teased him about it you loved it.
‘When are you going back?’ you asked when Charlie was done talking.
‘I'm not.’
‘Not?’ you said surprised. ‘But you just said you loved it there!’
‘I know. Romania is great but I missed my family and friends. And you,’ he added and smiled at you. Your cheeks turned pink and you stared at the ground.
Meanwhile you had arrived at the tents of the Bulgarians. The people were louder here and it was obvious they had been drinking. Men were singing songs in a language you didn't understand and women in the most beautiful dresses were running around with pans and plates.
Halfway through the field a man about Charlie's age walked up to you.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ he said with a thick accent. The man licked his lips and his eyes travelled up and down your body. You took Charlie's hand and stepped back. The stranger followed you.
‘Hey man, cut it off,’ Charlie said. He kept calm but you noticed how annoyed he was by the man trying to get closer to you.
The drunk man looked from you at Charlie. Apparently he was intimidated by him because after staring at Charlie for a minute he turned around and walked away while muttering something you couldn't understand.
‘Let's go,’ Charlie said to you while looking around suspiciously. ‘The others must be waiting for us.’
You felt like that was not entirely the reason why Charlie wanted to leave but you said nothing. With your hand still in his you walked back to the tents in silence.
Back at the tents Fred and George shot Charlie a look when they saw that he was holding your hand. Charlie suddenly let go of your hand and joined his father and Bill at the fire.
A bit confused why Charlie suddenly let go you sat down and stared at his back. When Charlie had said that he would not go back to Romania because he missed you, a weird, warm feeling had appeared in your stomach. You had brushed it off, but when you were holding Charlie's hand the feeling returned. You were not developing feelings for him, were you?
o-o-o
The sun had set and suddenly lanterns appeared on the route to the arena. The atmosphere was tensed. Everyone got their stuff and after Arthur made sure both tents were closed, they set off.
The route was short. The path was lighted by the lantarns that were dancing through the air. George tripped over a tree root and had to grab Fred's shoulder to not fall, but Fred had just placed his foot on a root too and together they fell on the ground. Ginny laughed so hard she didn't watch where she walked and fell right on top of her brothers.
Bruised and hurt everyone arrived at the arena. A guard lead them to their seats. From there they could see the whole field.
On one side of the field the Ireland supporters sat and everything was green there. People were not only wearing green items, some of them even painted there whole face green.
The other side of the arena was orange. The Bulgarian supporters were, just as the Ireland supporters, wearing anything in the colour of their team. They were singing the same songs the men you came across with Charlie sung.
‘This is amazing!’ you said to Charlie who sat down next to you. He looked suspicious to the Bulgarian site of the arena before turning to you and nodding.
‘I'm glad dad got the tickets. He almost didn't,’ Charlie responded.
‘Not because of me, I hope!’
‘No, not because of you,’ Charlie reassured you laughing. You lost yourself in the easy conversation with Charlie while other people filled the seats behind you.
o-o-o
The game was even better than you had imagined before. The seats were in the perfect place and you could see everything. From the goalposts on the Irish side, to the posts on the Bulgarian side, everything was visible.
As the game grew more aggressive, you became more enthusiastic. But you weren’t the only one. With you next to him Charlie felt excited and happy. The walk with you had given him butterflies in his stomach and that was new. His brothers had always said that he liked you but he had always ignored it, thinking that you were just his best friend, nothing more.
‘That’s not fair!’ Ron yelled and Charlie was pulled from his daze. The referee had given Bulgaria a penalty because one of their players had almost fallen off his broom while he tried to avoid getting hit by a Bludger.
Ron and Harry were both standing on their seats and even Mr. Weasley had gotten up to cheer for the Irish players. Hermione was still sitting in her chair but there was a red blush on her face. Ginny was seated on the left, in the chair in front of Charlie and she was staring at the field like she could influence the game with her gaze. Bill and you were both standing and jumping while singing the Irish anthem. Charlie was standing just as the rest of his family, filled with adrenalin. The only one that was sitting decently was Percy. But even his cheeks were more red than usual and it cost him great effort not to act like his family.
‘The snitch! They’re going for the snitch!’ Harry yelled and everyone in the room kept silent. The gasps from the supporters were like one big gasp.
The two seekers were shoulder to shoulder. One final sprint and one of them would catch the snitch.
The whole arena gasped as they watched the two seekers, though it was already clear who had won. Ireland had so much points that even if Bulgaria would catch the snitch, they would win. Nevertheless, the match was still exciting.
The silence went on as the two seekers fought for the victory. It was Krum who caught the snitch. So fast that is was almost invisible, but the shining golden ball in his hand couldn't be missed.
The supporters were silent. Who won? It was Ron who broke the silence in the Top-box.
‘Ireland won! THEY WON!’
And he was not the only one who had realised that. The Ireland supporters hesitantly started to cheer until every one of them knew what had happened. The overwhelming sound they made must have been heard miles and miles away.
Ron and Harry were jumping around, screaming and yelling; Mr Weasley had lost control of himself and was dancing with Hermione; Ginny had tears on her cheeks and her smile had never been brighter; even Percy was cheering. You jumped up from your seat and threw your arms around Bill. Charlie watched you and felt the euphoria fade. Seeing you in someone else's arms made him feel... sad?
But now was not the time to be sad, he told himself. Ireland had won, he had had an amazing day and this game would stay with him forever. Yet there was something itching inside Charlie. A feeling that didn't disappear until you turned to him and kissed him on his cheek.
‘They won!’ you exclaimed with a big smile on your face.
Your arm was still around Charlie and he turned red. But you were so focused on the victory you didn't notice.
o-o-o
The euphoric feeling stayed all night. The walk back to the tents felt shorter than it had felt on the way to the arena. Laughing and talking from the supporters that were staying the night at the campsite filled the air and the ambiance was cosy.
Mr Weasley gave everyone a cup of hot cocoa while they talked about the match in the boys’ tent. Every one was tired but no one wanted to go to sleep. You, Ginny and Hermione gossiped about the Quidditch-players while Ron, Harry, George and Fred discussed the techniques. Mr Weasley was talking with his other three sons.
You kept stealing glances at Charlie, hoping on one hand he would look back and catch your stare, but also not. There might be a small chance that you actually had developed feelings for your best friend over the time, but it didn’t matter. Because Charlie would never return those feelings. He thought of you only as a best friend, nothing more.
But that was not true. Because Charlie did in fact like you. More than he would ever admit to someone. And when you weren’t looking his eyes kept turning to you. There was something about the way your head moved back when you laughed and the dimples that formed on your face that made Charlie’s inside turn upside down. The way your lips parted as you let out a laugh gave Charlie butterflies. Blushing he looked at his empty mug. He had never felt like this before and he wasn’t exactly sure on how to act. Did you like him back?
It wasn’t until Ginny promptly fell asleep at the table, Mr Weasley sent everyone to bed. Hermione and you carried Ginny to her bed after saying goodnight to the boys. You kissed Charlie on his cheek and the pink on his cheeks made you smile as you took Ginny’s legs. Hermione lifted her under her arms and Ginny’s head tilted to one side, almost hitting the iron pole next to the entrance of the tent.
After Ginny was put in her bed, you and Hermione changed and lied in bed too. You talked for a while about the match and how her vacation had been, but it was late and you both almost immediately fell asleep.
In the boys’ tent however, the ambiance was different. George and Fred were laughing at Charlie who had placed his hand on the place your soft lips had touched his skin and was still standing in the very same spot. When he recollected himself he pointed his wand at Fred and shrunk his pyjama pants. Fred let out a loud groan as George erupted in laughing. But George wasn’t spared; Charlie pointed his wand at him too and his pants grew three sizes too big, causing them to fall of his hips and leaving him in his underwear. Now it was Fred’s turn to laugh.
Mr Weasley entered the living room from his bedroom and scolded at Charlie for hexing his brothers, but even he couldn’t suppress a smile. Charlie disappeared into his shared bedroom as Mr Weasley fixed his sons’ pants. Bill was looking at Charlie with a grin as this one was changing.
‘What?’ Charlie asked when he noticed his brother’s looks.
‘Oh, please,’ Bill snorted. ‘Have you finally realised you are madly in love with her?’
‘I’m not madly in love with her!’ Charlie scoffed.
‘So you are in love with her?’
‘I dunno, maybe,’ Charlie muttered as he lied down in bed and pulled up the sheets to his chin. Bill dropped the subject and the room filled with silence. The sounds of Fred and George whispering in the living room came through the door and were interrupted by Ron asking them to ‘shut up’.
o-o-o
It didn’t seem like you slept long before waking up again. At most two hours. But someone was outside the tent, making more sounds then necessary for such an early hour. Ginny and Hermione also woke up and you got out of bed and stumbled to the entrance. After opening it your gaze fell on a terrible situation. A group of people with dark cloaks and masks was walking across the campsite, screaming curses and setting tents on fire. People all around were screaming and running away.
You stared at the view three seconds before quickly turning to the girls and ordering them to put something warm on. ‘Stay here, I’ll be back,’ you said and while pulling your sweater on you hurried to the boys’ tent. ‘Guys! GUYS! Wake up!’
You opened their tent and with your wand filled the room with light. Fred groaned at the sudden light but you ignored him. Mr Weasley came rushing out of his bedroom, pants put on over his pyjamas and wand ready. Percy followed him and the door of the other bedroom opened to reveal Charlie and Bill.
‘Outside,’ you said and ran back to the girls’ tent. Ginny and Hermione, who had looked outside, were looking at you with terrified looks on their faces. ‘Come on,’ you said and lead the girls outside, while looking over your shoulder to check if there were people around. But the people with the masks were far away.
The boys had collected outside the tent. ‘Bill, Charlie, Percy and I will help the ministry,’ Mr Weasley explained as he rolled up his sleeves. ‘Go to the forest. And stay together!’ He ran away followed closely by Percy.
Fred took Ginny’s hand and pulled her with him. George, Ron, Harry and Hermione followed them. You turned around to Charlie, he was watching you and you could see the fear on his face, although he tried to hide it.
Then you did something without thinking. Your brain was still looking around the campsite taking in the damage that had been done, but your body stepped closer to Charlie and kissed him on his lips. Quick, soft and caring. You pulled away before Charlie could even act about it and ran after the others.
Charlie was left with burning lips. He looked at you as you ran away, joining his younger siblings. At that moment, Charlie would have traded the whole world to kiss you longer. To feel your lips on his, to run his hands over your body, to look you in your eyes and tell you how he felt for you. But as you escaped his view the screams of the people around him re-entered Charlie’s mind and he was pulled out of his daze. People were in danger, that was more important than kissing you right now, though every part of Charlie’s body thought different.
He turned around quickly and ignored Bill’s surprised grin. ‘Not now,’ he said and ran after his father.
o-o-o
What did you just do? It was as if your mind only now realised what you had done. You kissed him! You actually kissed him! And Merlin, was it great! Even now as you were walking through the dark, you could still feel his lips.
You, Fred, George and Ginny reached an open spot and sat down on a fallen tree. You made a fire with your wand. Soon you were joined by other wizards that didn’t speak the same language.
‘You kissed him?’ Ginny asked like she didn’t believe it. You could still see the shock and fear on her face that was lit up by the fire. You nodded slowly as your gaze turned to the fire.
‘I kissed him,’ you repeated.
‘Man, that took you guys forever!’ Fred sighed and you raised your eyebrow at him.
‘What do you mean?’
‘He has had it for you for years!’
A stupid smile grew on your face. Charlie actually liked you back? And he had for years?
‘But why did he never tell me?’
‘Because he is an idiot,’ George said. ‘I thought you knew that?’
‘I never noticed,’ you said and tried to think of times Charlie had showed more affection to you than a normal friend would.
‘You never noticed?’ Ginny asked surprised. ‘Don’t you remember when he ran to your house the minute he heard you had broken your arm?’
‘Or how he always wants to sit next to you whenever you are over?’ Fred added.
‘And what about your sixteenth birthday?’
You thought back of that birthday. He had bought you a million flowers and had prepared a whole day with a picnic and a dinner under the stars.
‘Get out,’ you mumbled when you  realised how long ago that was. ‘He had a crush on me back then?’
‘Oh definitely, but he never dared to admit it,’ George answered.
‘Please tell him you like him,’ Fred whined. ‘I can’t stand to hear more about your hair and your teeth and the way you smile.’
You blushed and stared into the fire. Your whole body filled with butterflies and for a minute you had forgotten about the riot. And so did your companions. Until the whole forest lit up by a green flash and you jumped wand ready to defend yourself and your friends. But your eyes quickly found the reason behind the flash.
The green skull floating in the air gave you chills. A shiver ran down your spine as its mouth opened and a green snake escaped. The three others behind you looked up at the sky with confused faces. You took them by their shoulders and pushed them back to the camp site, wand still ready to cast a spell any moment.
At the edge of the forest you saw three familiar red heads. But there was no sight of Hermione, Harry, Ron or Mr Weasley. You ran towards the three oldest Weasley siblings.
‘What happened?’ you asked worried.
‘Death eaters, gone as soon as the mark appeared,’ Bill filled you in. You cursed and stared at the skull in the sky.
‘No one hurt?’ you asked, not really sure if you wanted the answer. But luckily Bill shook his head.
‘They were levitating muggles, but they’re not hurt.’
‘Where are Ron, Hermione and Harry?’ Charlie asked as he looked around and saw that they were missing.
‘We lost them in the forest,’ Ginny answered, her eyes filled with tears. ‘Where’s dad?’
‘He went to the place the mark appeared. Don’t worry he will be safe,’ Bill added when he saw her fear.
Your hand was still on Ginny’s shoulder as you stared at the path in the forest. A silence fell over the group but the sounds of the crying people around were filling your head. You wished there was a way to help them.
No longer than three minutes after, the first journalist apparated on the grass in front of the forest. The workers of the ministry, that had stayed back, tried to appease the crowd. Photographers pointed their camera’s up in the air and took pictures of the skull, that now more looked like an oddly shaped cloud. Bill and Charlie noticed the photographers also taking photos of them and suggested going back to the tents. You took Ginny by her hand and walked past the photographers ignoring their yells.
The tents had not been damaged apart from the few tent pegs that had come out of the ground. Bill put them back with his shoe while the others entered the tent. You sat down and took Ginny in your arms. She was looking pale and her eyes were red. While she softly sobbed in your shoulder you dared to look at Charlie. He was seated on the other side of the tent with Percy, looking at the entrance as if that would make the others come back sooner. Fred and George sat down in the chairs next to you, but said nothing. Though they were not as pale as Ginny was, you could easily see the shock on their faces.
‘(Y/N)?’ Fred asked and you looked up. From the corner of your eyes you saw Charlie’s head turned to the corner you were in when your name was called.
‘Hmm?’
‘What was that thing in the sky?’
You looked at Fred, unsure of what to answer. Turning to Charlie for help, you thought of the horror of having to remember the mark when you were a kid. Your parents had wanted you to remember what it looked like so that if you ever saw it you wouldn’t go inside the house. As a kid you were unaware of the terror the mark had brought so many people, but you, just as any other kid that was around your age, did remember your parents showing you a picture and telling you how you should never, but absolutely never enter a house when that skull was above it.
‘I’m not sure if I am the one to tell you that…’ you answered honestly. ‘I think your father will explain it when he returns.’
And as if your words did the trick, Mr Weasley entered the tent at the exact same moment. Ron, Harry and Hermione were following him and Bill closed the line. They sat down at your corner and the exhaustion almost made you feel just as tired.
‘What happened, Dad?’ Bill asked while Percy and Charlie also sat down.
‘False alarm,’ Mr Weasley answered and four collective sighs filled the tent.
‘But what happened? Why did those people disappear when they saw that skull?’ Fred asked again. Ginny lifted her head from your shoulder and you caressed her hair. From across you you saw Charlie smiling at you and you started to blush.
‘That skull is better known as the Dark Mark,’ Mr Weasley explained. ‘Back when You-Know-Who was gaining more and more power, everyday people disappeared never to return. If that mark was floating above your house it meant that no one in there was still alive. It was the horror of every person to come home and see that mark…’
‘But who were those people?’ Ron asked.
‘They were Death eaters,’ Bill said. ‘Followers of You-Know-Who. They did everything he asked them because they were promised a world with only pure-blood wizard at the top.’
‘After You-Know-Who disappeared they went away with him. I guess they had a little too much to drink tonight,’ Mr Weasley said.
A silence fell over the tent and Ginny buried her face in your shoulder again. By her steady breathing you noticed she had fallen asleep. Ron and Harry also went to their beds, Fred and George took the beds in Bill and Charlie’s room and Hermione stationed on the sofa in the living room. Though her eyes were closed you saw that she was not asleep. But you didn’t blame her; you couldn’t sleep either. Mr Weasley had gone outside to talk with his colleagues and Percy had gone with him. Charlie gave you a cup of tea and Bill went into the empty bedroom.
As you drank your tea, careful not to wake up Ginny, who was still sleeping against you, you looked up at Charlie. His cheeks were red and he avoided your eyes. You decided to throw everything out.
‘Fred told me you like me,’ you blurted out. If you had thought Charlie couldn’t get any redder, you were wrong. His face turned into a tomato and he finally looked up to you. You had a small smile on your lips.
‘I- uhh… I think I do,’ Charlie mumbled, confronted by your abruptness.
‘You think?’
‘I mean, I do. I really like you, (Y/N). I just never realised it. But when I was in Romania… Although I enjoyed everything I did there, I kept thinking of you and how alone you were. Merlin, I wished so many times I could just return home and- and take you in my arms. But I never knew if you felt the same.’
‘You do now, right?’
Charlie looked up to you. You were looking at him patiently. Your voice was genuine and soft and Charlie had never felt so much love for you. He got up and sat down next to you on the couch. You turned your head to him and he was so close to you he could have easily kissed you.
‘Because I do, Charls. I really like you too.’
And you closed the gap between the two of you. Charlie felt his head explode at the kiss. He suddenly realised how long he had wanted this. How long he had missed this in his life. The way you touched him made him dizzy and light-headed. His thumb stroke your jaw as he pulled you in closer.
When you broke apart and looked over Charlie’s shoulder, you saw Hermione grinning at you. Charlie smiled at you and the top of his nose was pink.
‘Did they kiss?’ Fred asked through the closed bedroom door.
‘Yes,’ Ginny answered from beside you. You hadn’t even realised she had woken up.
‘Finally!’ George exclaimed and Charlie rolled his eyes.
‘Watch out or your pants will be so small things will get numb!’ Charlie threated but he was smiling. He turned back to you and kissed you again.
‘I can get used to this,’ you mumbled against his lips and he chuckled.
‘No problem for me.’
-------
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yxsmoon · 3 years
Text
“Dearest Freddie”
George Weasley x Fem, NonGryffindor!Reader; featuring Fred.
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Part Three
Universe: Harry Potter, Battle of Hogwarts era (based after).
Summary: when Fred dies in battle, George and Y/N comfort each other and grow closer to fill their missing part. Their feelings soon start to grow for each other, and they start to feel guilty. As they start falling for each other, they both write letters to Fred as a way to hold onto his memory but now, that they’re getting too close, things start to fall apart in their relationship.
Type: angst ig.
Warnings: mentions of fred... not really a warning bUT..
Song: strange condition by pete yorn
Word Count: 2.8k
A/N: BIG APOLOGIES FOR DISAPPEARING. I will definitely be trying to get back into it - anyway, enjoy <3
Tag List: @nerdishkiwii, @emmamarie7708, @emptyporsche, @dippy-dinosaur, @potters-heart​, @steadysuitenthusiast. 
- part list here. -
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Reader’s POV
I got lost in my own little world as a wandered around the museum halls, slowly. I was in there for what felt like a century, I had hardly even noticed the time. I felt safe here, away from all the complications of the outside world, and more importantly, my own life. I was soon brought back to reality by a loud voice over the tannoy - “the museum will be closing in five minutes, please make your way to the exits, thank you for your visit!”
I sighed to myself, taking one last glance at some of the beautiful gemstones they had before turning on my heels and heading out of the large room, making my way down the steps in the large crowd that were doing the same. I had barely remembered my trunk that was waiting for me in a cupboard somewhere. 
“Thank you.” I mumbled with a smile to the security guard who grabbed it for me, and said my goodbye’s to the staff, especially Lucie who looked about ready to leave work. It was now dark outside, and I had yet to figure out what my plans for shelter were, but first, a drink... and a strong one at that.
It felt so strange having so much time to myself, away from arguing siblings, getting lost in family chit chat or overall noise. I liked the silence. I missed the days of just laying in Fred’s arms on his bed, neither of us speaking, just being with each other was enough for us, listening to each other’s breathing and just knowing how the other was feeling. These days, the silence was just silence. 
I made my way down the street, my trunk dragging closely behind me, hands free. I wasn’t at all familiar with the muggle shops and bars in this area. I hoped to myself that somewhere along these streets would be a place for magic folk, which I soon came across when I saw a few people walk through a wall. I looked left, and then right, before heading towards the wall myself, walking through. On the other side of this wall, was a familiar street. I quickly followed behind the people who had entered moments before me, and into the pub they went into. My silence was quickly filled with happy voices, laughter and clinking of glasses. The warm lighting gave off a welcoming, homely aesthetic. This was it.
I took a good look around, my eyes falling quickly upon an empty table, which had been freshly wiped down. I moved towards it, needing to sit desperately, when I noticed a small male move towards it as well, laughing with his friends and speaking another language. I quickly grabbed a seat, just as he did. “Oh I am sorry...” he said, with an extremely thick accent. “Oh no, it’s fine, you sit... there’s more of you.” I said with a tired smile, moving away from the seat that he also had hands on. “No, no..” he insisted, offering the seat to me. I smiled once again, thanking him as I sat, hesitating slightly. He bowed his head and turned to find another table.
“Wait-” I called after him, standing up again. “Sit with me.” I offered, gesturing to the spare seats in front of me. “If you’d like... I’m not going to need the whole table to myself.” I explained with a small shrug. He looked a little confused, like he was expecting someone to join me. “Nope, just me..” I said, sitting back down. He smiled back at me as him and his friends joined me. 
“I’m Taku.” he held his hand out to shake mine, which I took happily. “And these are my friends Kai and Riku..” they both smiled, I smiled back. “We’re visiting from Japan.” 
‘Ah that explains the accents...’ I thought.
After introductions, we got drinks in, and from there, conversation just flowed. Taku was the best at English, whilst the other two tried their hardest to keep up, with the occasional translation needed. We spoke about their time in England, and what they had seen. We spoke about the Muggles, and what magic was like in Japan. For a moment, I had forgotten why I was even there and that I was alone, I felt like I knew these guys since forever. I guess that’s the thing with being a witch or wizard, its universal and you feel safe with your own kind, for the most part that is.
“So what about you, Y/N? What brings you here, alone?” Riku asked in his best English. There it was, the dreaded question. “An escape.” I said, taking a sip from my drink. He understood from that, I could tell, as he nodded, also taking a sip of his drink. The others just looked at each other, not wanting to press on about it. 
“Where are you staying?” Taku asked, pointing at my trunk. “Uh- I’m not sure yet.” I replied.
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𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎,
𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐.. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢... 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚑𝚊..
𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙶𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢. 𝙱𝚢𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠...
                          - 𝚈/𝙽... ♡
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George’s POV
“Georgie, please think rationally for a moment...” Mum begged, chasing me around as I frantically packed a bag. “Yeah, I mean, come on, mate. You don’t even know where she is..” Ron added, but it was no use, I was on a mission and no one could stop me. Mum sighed and left the room, leaving just Ron and I alone.
“You won’t change my mind.” I mentioned, breaking the silence, throwing a few pairs of socks into my backpack. “At least let us come with you...” he insisted, but I shook my head. “No, I have to do this alone. It’s my mistake, I have to fix things...” I argued, turning to face him, sadness apparent in my eyes. My heart twinged at the thought of Y/N being upset and alone, and it hurt even more that it was my fault. “Okay...`” Ron said, lowly, almost a whisper. It was silent for a moment more before he left the room, leaving me with my own thoughts. 
Ron was right though, I really didn’t have a clue of where she could be. I could only assume she’d go to a familiar place, but I was having a hard time remembering any of those places right now. She had definitely mentioned a few places, from distant memories. 
‘Think, George. Think...’ I said to myself.
“I might know where she is...” a voice called from the doorway, startling me. I looked up, it was Ginny. “Where?” I asked, ears pricking up like a hound. She looked back at me for a moment, stepping into the room, a serious frown appearing on her face, arms crossed against her chest. “What?” I questioned, slightly worried as to why she looked that way - mad. 
“What exactly are you going after her for, George?” she quizzed, a harsh twang in her voice. “I- What?” I frowned back. “You know why... why so bitchy?” 
“Well, this morning, when I asked you if you loved her, you couldn’t answer me... in fact, you actually scoffed at me and left the room. So if you are going after her for your own selfish needs, then maybe leave her alone... maybe her leaving is the best option for her.” She ranted on. “George, you’re my brother and I love you... but if you can’t even face your own feelings, then maybe don’t play with hers... and think of Fred as well.” 
I swallowed down the lump in my throat. The mention of Fred made the guilt come rushing back into my system. I let out a sigh. Ginny was right, but I didn’t care. It could’ve been ages before I found Y/N, so I hoped that in that time, I would’ve figured out what to say to her. “I have to find her, Ginny...”
She also sighed, moving over to hug me. “Give her this for me...” she said, pulling me close and squeezing me. “She’s in London. South Kensington, I think, near the muggle museum... She used to go there when she was younger.” Ginny pulled away from me, and headed back towards the door. “Oh and George... don’t come back until you fix things.” She commanded, a small smile playing on her lips. I mimicked her smile with a nod. 
“I promise.” 
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𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚍,
𝙸'𝚖 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚈/𝙽...
𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞... 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜.
𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎, 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝.. 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞.. 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍. 
𝚆𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔.
𝚂𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚊.
                - 𝙶𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎...⇝
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Reader’s POV
“You know, we’re currently staying with a lovely, older woman... I’m sure she’d allow you to stay with us, just whilst you figure things out.” Taku offered, looking at the other guys, and when they didn’t protest, back at me. In fact, they all nodded. “I- I wouldn’t want to impose, I’m sure there’s other places for me...” I began but was cut off. “Nonsense! We can’t have you running around the streets of London like a mad woman. It’s not the warmest these days...” He said with a kind smile, I didn’t argue, I just silently agreed. “Good! That’s sorted. Cheers!”
An hour or so passed by, and everyone apart from Taku and I were way past drunk. The pub had emptied quite a bit, and we were on the verge of being apart of a lock in, though I don’t think the guys could last much longer. “How on earth did you two drink so much... and so quickly?” I laughed, hiccuping in between. I was more tired then drunk, exhausted in fact. I could feel my eyes becoming heavier by the second. “Shall we go?” Taku asked, and I could only nod in response. Taku nudged the others, and said what I can assume was ‘come on’ in Japanese as the two drunkards slowly rose from their seats shortly after, attempting to compose themselves. “There’s no way they’re apparating anywhere, at least not safely...” I gestured towards Kai and Riku, watching them both sway and giggle as they kept bumping into one another. 
“I think you’re right” Taku agreed, looking slightly irritated with them. “I guess we will have to walk... like the regular people.” 
I slid my coat back on, and took ahold of my trunk. We all gave a wave to the big bearded man behind the bar as we all left, the harsh winter night hitting us all in the face. “Come on you two...” Taku said, pulling the heavier of the two, Riku, into him, guiding him as he staggered. I could see Kai, too, was also struggling to walk in a straight line. I took my wand out, and swished it, tapping it against my trunk so that it could guide itself as I grabbed Kai, throwing his arm across my shoulders. 
We stumbled down the cobbled street, hushing the two when they started laughing or singing loudly. We didn’t get that far down the street when I felt a familiar presence appear behind me. I frowned, stopping for a moment, turning my head slightly whilst still holding onto Kai. I saw a tall figure go into the pub we had just departed from, but I didn’t see their face. I shrugged off the feeling and continued on my journey. 
Weird.
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George’s POV
It was late when I finally arrived on Cromwell Road, and the Museum had long been closed but I had a gut feeling she was close. I could sense her. 
I looked up and down the street, there was nothing but muggles around and even then, not many. They’d never be able to tell me if they had seen one particular woman. I knew there was an entrance to our world nearby, and Y/N was an intelligent woman, she would’ve found it. I took a breath and let my feet take me onwards. I passed by many muggle bars and pubs, watching the drunk people stagger out onto the streets. I had picked the wrong time to search for someone, the few muggles I had seen were now multiplying rapidly. She’d sure as hell get lost in crowds if she was nearby, but I wasn’t going to give up.
I squeezed between the big groups of people on the main road, a few drunk people greeting me as I did so but I just moved on swiftly. The street began to feel more familiar to me, which indicated I was close to finding my own kind of people. I stumbled upon a dimly lit back alley which had a few closed muggle shops, and in between these was an empty space. A blank brick wall, as if there should be something there. I headed towards this empty space and pushed straight through it, appearing on the other side - perfect!
I walked along the cobbled walk way, following the sound of voices. I noticed a few people leave a bar, and were already half way down the street facing away from me by the time I reached the door, two members of the quartet were carrying the other two, which made me smile softly to myself as I reminisced on the days when Y/N and someone else, usually Ginny or Hermione, would do that for Fred and I when we had too much to drink. I shook my head, snapping myself out of that memory as I had a job to do, my eyes falling upon the tavern door. I made my way inside, it seemed to be closing, a few odd people left inside as the barkeep wiped down some glasses.
I stepped further inside, heading towards the bar, grabbing the attention of the man cleaning glasses, he looked slightly confused but said nothing, placing the freshly polished glass back on the shelf. “Hello...” he finally spoke, his voice deep and gruff, slightly intimidating. “Can I help you, son?”
I removed my hat and gloves, leaning against the bar. “Uh hello... I’m hoping you can help actually, I’m looking for someone who I think may have been in here tonight...” I looked around, taking a quick glance to see if I could see any familiar faces. However, with no luck, I turned back to face the man. “She may have been here alone, but uh... this is her.” 
I opened up my coat, and from the inside pocket, I removed a photograph - a photograph of her standing between Fred and I - and placed it gently on the bar in front of us, pointing at Y/N. The man moved his hand to pick up the photo, hesitating slightly as if he wanted my permission to take it, in which I just nodded. He brought the photo closer to himself, peering over his half moon glasses, examining it carefully. “Well yeah! I do recognise her... she was sat over there...” he informed, pointing with his middle finger, the photo still in his hand, I turned to look at the seats he was pointing at. “She wasn’t alone though, she was with three young blokes... They’re regulars of mine, but I’d never seen her face before until tonight.”
I quickly turned back to him, a half puzzled half concerned look on my face. “Are these guys trustworthy?” I questioned. “Harmless. Don’t worry, laddy.” he responded, handing the photo back to me. “How long ago did they leave?” 
“Less than 10 minutes ago, I’m surprised you didn’t bump into them.”
The group outside. SHIT!
My eyes widened at my sudden realisation. “Thank you!” I hurriedly gathered my things and ran straight towards door, tripping over a stool on my way. I shook it off and ran out onto the street, looking both ways. 
‘Dammit, which way did they go again?’ I thought to myself. 
I decided to go right. “Y/N!” I called out, as I looked down all the side streets. I don’t think I’d ever run so fast before, they couldn’t have gotten far with those drunks hanging off of them. “Y/N!” I called again, louder this time, not caring if I woke anyone who may be living above the shops. I turned a corner, and it was there that I noticed, in faint lighting, a small group of people. 
‘Please...’ I whispered to myself, stopping in my tracks for a moment to catch my breath before running, once again, in their direction. 
“Y/N!” I called a final time, grabbing the attention of the group. I came up quickly behind them, bringing myself to a halt when I realised it wasn’t them. “Oh- I-I’m so sorry...” I mumbled, my heart breaking slightly, and a little embarrassed. The group just frowned and mumbled something to each other as they continued on.
“Fuck...” I breathed out, throwing my hands up, resting them on my head, completely defeated. That’s when I heard soft, and familiar, footsteps behind me.
“George...?” 
18 notes · View notes
thewidowsghost · 3 years
Text
The Unknown Muggleworn - Chapter 3
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3rd Person POV
The next month went by very quickly. (Y/n) and Hermione had spent a lot of time studying their spell books.
(Y/n) took a lot of time trying to learn defensive spells and as well as some simple ones like Reparo, the repairing spell, Alohomora, the unlocking spell, and Lumos, the wand lighting spell, and Wingardium Leviosa, the levitating spell.
The night before the journey to Hogwarts, Hermione and (Y/n) pack up their trunks and carry them down by the front door. 
The next morning, Hermione, (Y/n), and Mr. and Mrs. Granger get into the car and make their way to King's Cross Station.
Once they get there, Mr. Granger and (Y/n) pull the heavy trunks onto two trollies, Marvel's cat carrier sitting on top of (Y/n)'s trunk.
"So, if I'm correct, we need to run between Platforms Nine and Ten," (Y/n) says once they reach the two platforms.
"Or we could ask someone," Hermione suggests.
The four look around to see a plump woman walking by with four boys and a young girl, all with flaming red hair, and the four boys are pushing trollies with trunks on it.
"Come on," (Y/n) says, stepping forward towards the family.
"Hello," (Y/n) says, rather shyly, the others though.
The plump woman turns to the group. She studies (Y/n) thoughtfully, catching sight of her scar - (Y/n)'s hair had been pulled into a low ponytail.
"Hello dears, need to get onto the Platform?" the woman asks, continuing to watch (Y/n) thoughtfully.
"Yes ma'am," Hermione answers and the plump woman's gaze wonders to her.
"All you have to do is run into the wall between Platforms Nine and Ten," the women says and (Y/n) shoots a triumphant look at Hermione.
"Ha, I was right!" (Y/n) says, nudging her sister affectionately. Hermione rolls her eyes as the plump women laughs.
We start towards the platform, Mr. and Mrs. Granger starting up a conversation with the plump woman.
(Y/n) jumps slightly as two voices, almost identical, speak up from behind her, "Hello -"
"We're Fred -"
"And George -"
"Weasley," they finish in unison.
(Y/n) and Hermione turn at the same time to study two identical boys, about two years older than the two.
"Hello, I'm (Y/n) (L/n)-Granger, and this is my sister, Hermione Granger," (Y/n) says.
"Twins?" Hermione guesses and the two red haired boys nod.
"Yes -" Fred, (Y/n) thinks at least, begins.
"Of course we are," the other twin, (Y/n) believes was George, finishes.
The group gets to the barrier and (Y/n) catches sight of the black haired boy from Diagon Alley.
(Y/n), Hermione, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger pass through the barrier.
(Y/n) takes in the Platform quizzically.
A scarlet steam engine is waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sigh overhead says, Hogwarts Express, Eleven o'clock.
"Wow!" Hermione breathes, her brown eyes full of wonder. There were so many people on the Platform that (Y/n) nor Hermione could count them all, as well as cats and owls of so may colors it was hard to believe so many existed.
3rd Person POV – With Harry
According to the large clock over the arrivals board, Harry had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and he had no idea how to do it; he was stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk he could hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money, and a large owl.
Hagrid must have forgotten to tell him something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. He wondered if he should get out his wand and start tapping the ticket inspector's stand between platforms nine and ten.
At that moment a group of people were just behind him and he caught a few words of what they were saying.
"— packed with Muggles, of course —"
Harry swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like Harry's in front of him — and they had an owl.
Heart hammering, Harry pushed his cart after them. They stopped and so did he, just near enough to hear what they were saying.
Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother.
"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, "Mom, can't I go . . ."
"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."
What looked like the oldest boy marched toward Platforms Nine and Ten. Harry watched, careful not to blink in case he missed it — but just as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two Platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.
"Fred, you next," the plump woman said.
"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"
"Sorry, George, dear."
"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone — but how had he done it?
Now the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier — he was almost there — and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't anywhere.
There was nothing else for it.
"Excuse me," Harry said to the plump woman.
"Hello, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too."
She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose. "Yes," said Harry. "The thing is — the thing is, I don't know how to —"
"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Harry nodded.
"Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."
"Er — okay," said Harry.
He pushed his trolley around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid.
He started to walk toward it. People jostled him on their way to Platforms Nine and Ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that barrier and then he'd be in trouble — leaning forward on his cart, he broke into a heavy run — the barrier was coming nearer and nearer — he wouldn't be able to stop — the cart was out of control — he was a foot away — he closed his eyes ready for the crash —
It didn't come . . . he kept on running . . . he opened his eyes.
A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it.
Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.
The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again." "Oh, Neville," he heard the old woman sigh.
A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.
"Give us a look, Lee, go on." The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.
Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk toward the traindoor. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.
"Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired twins he'd followed through the barrier.
"Yes, please," Harry panted.
"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!"
With the twins' help, Harry's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.
Thanks," said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.
"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.
"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you — ?"
"He is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.
"What?" said Harry.
"Harry Potter," chorused the twins.
"Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am."
The two boys gawked at him, and Harry felt himself turning red. Then, to his relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.
"Fred? George? Are you there?"
"Coming, Mom."
With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train.
Harry sat down next to the window where, half hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.
Harry had also spotted the two girls from Madam Malkin's Robe Shop.
He could see the mother and father of the two girls, but there was something off about the taller one.
She doesn't seem to belong with them, Harry thinks. Not in a bad way, but she looks nothing like the brown haired girl or the mother and father.
Harry is caught off guard as he overhears the conversation-taking place between the red haired family.
"Hey, Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?" One of the red-haired twins says.
Harry leaned back quickly so they couldn't see him looking.
"You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"
"Who?"
"Harry Potter!"
Harry heard the little girl's voice. "Oh, Mom, can I go on the train and see him, Mom, oh please. . . ."
"You've already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. Is he really, Fred? How do you know?" The mother asks, turning to Fred.
"Asked him. Saw his scar. It's really there — like lightning."
"Poor dear — no wonder he was alone, I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform."
"Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?" One of the twins asks.
Their mother suddenly became very stern.
"I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school."
"All right, keep your hair on."
A whistle sounded.
Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger sister began to cry.
"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls." Fred says.
"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat." George adds. "George!"
"Only joking, Mom."
The train began to move. Harry saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed, then she fell back and waved.
Harry watched the girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Harry felt a great leap of excitement. He didn't know what he was going to — but it had to be better than what he was leaving behind.
(Y/n)'s POV
Hermione and I rush to haul our things onto the train.
We find a compartment but there was someone already sitting there.
I slide the door open, "Mind if we sit here?"
"I don't mind," the round faced boy says. "I'm Neville," he says.
"(Y/n)," I hold out my hand and the boy shakes it. "This is my sister Hermione."
"It's nice to meet the two of you," Neville says, then he continues, "Would you mind helping me find my toad?"
"We'll help look," I answer after exchanging a nod with Hermione.
Time Skip – Still (Y/N)'s POV
We all meet back up in the compartment we started in.
"Did anyone find Trevor?" Neville asks and we all shake our heads reluctantly, not wanting to give the poor boy any bad news. Neville groans.
"What about we all look together?" I suggest, and the others nod.
"Just give me a moment," I say, digging through my trunk, looking for my robes.
I find them, then dart out of the compartment to the bathroom, changing quickly, returning to the compartment.
"Okay, off to find Trevor," Hermione says, a twinkle of amusement evident in her eyes.
All three of us walk down the passages asking everyone if they had seen a toad anywhere.
We reach a compartment where Harry and one of the red-haired boys that we had walked through the station with.
Hermione slides the compartment door open, and we all step in.
3rd Person POV – Harry's Perspective
Ron raises his wand just when the compartment door slides open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him, and the two girls from Diagon Alley. The two of the girls were already wearing their new Hogwarts robes.
"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," the shorter girl says. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.
"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.
"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."
She sits down. Ron looks taken aback, but the tall girl didn't, her green gaze sparkling with amusement.
"Er — all right." Ron clears his throat. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."
He waves his wand, but nothing happens. Scabbers stays gray and fast asleep.
"Are you sure that's a real spell?" says the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? We've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in our family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when we got our letters, but we were ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, we heard — We've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough — I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?" She says all this very fast.
Harry looks at Ron, and is relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn't learned all the course books by heart either, but the other girl looks at Hermione, nodding in agreement, clearly meaning that the two of them had learned all the course books by heart.
"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron mutters.
"Harry Potter," Harry says.
"Are you really?" asks Hermione. "I know all about you, of course — I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."
"Am I?" asks Harry, feeling dazed.
"Goodness, didn't you know. I've found out everything I could if it was me," says Hermione. "Do either of you know what House you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best. I did hear though that Dumbledore himself was in it too, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad. . . Anyway, we'd better go look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."
Hermione leaves, taking Neville with her leaving the other girl behind, a glint in her green eyes.
"Sorry about her," the (H/c) haired girls says. "My sister's just excited about going to Hogwarts. I mean, if you couldn't tell. I'm (Y/n) (L/n)-Granger."
"Are you really?" Ron asks (Y/n) curiously. "Do you have a scar too?" he then asks.
(Y/n) pulls her hair back, exposing an hourglass shaped scar on the left side of her neck.
"Why are your glasses broken?" (Y/n) abruptly changes the subject, turning to look at Harry.
"Cousin . . ." Harry explains and (Y/n) walks over to him, pulling out her wand.
"Let me try something," (Y/n) says, pointing her wand in his face, his eyes crossing slightly. "Reparo!" she says, and the glasses mend themselves. Harry takes them off, looking in wonderment between his glasses, Ron, and (Y/n).
"That's better, isn't it?" (Y/n) asks, laughing slightly.
"Uh, yeah, thanks, (Y/n)," Harry says.
"Well, I'd better go find my sister," (Y/n) says, walking out of the compartment, closing the compartment door on the way out.
Time Skip - (Y/n)'s POV
A couple of hours after meeting Harry and Ron in their compartment, we arrived at Hogwarts.
A voice echoed through the train, "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."
The train slows down, and finally stops. People push their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. A lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students and a loud voice calls, "Firs' years? Firs' years over here! All right there , Harry?" It must have been Hagrid, the man who was with Harry in Diagon Alley.
"C'mon, follow me – any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" Hagrid says.
All of us slipping and stumbling, we follow Hagrid down what seems to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark that I thought there must be thick trees here. Nobody spoke much, the only one making any noise was Neville, we still hadn't been able to find his toad.
"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid calls over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."
There was a loud, "Oooooh!" I didn't realize that one came from my mouth as well.
A narrow path opens suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling brightly in the starry sky was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid calls, pointing to a fleet of boats sitting in the water by the shore.
Hermione and I follow Harry and Ron into a boat.
"Everyone in?" Hagrid shouts, who has a boat to himself. "Right then – FORWARD!"
Then the fleet of little boats moves off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. No one spoke as the little fleet of boats carries us through a curtain of ivy that hides a wide opening in the cliff face. We're carried along a dark tunnel, which seems to be taking us right underneath the castle, until we reach a kind of underground harbor, where we all clamber out onto rocks and pebbles.
"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" Hagrid asks, who was checking the boats as all of us climb out of them.
"Trevor!" cries Neville blissfully, holding out his hands.
We all clamber up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.
We all walk up a fight of stone steps and crowd around the huge oak front door.
"Neville, still got Trevor?" I ask, my (H/l), (H/c) hair flying back over my shoulders as the door opens.
3rd Person POV
The door swings open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. (Y/n) instantly recognizes the woman and nudges the Hermione, muttering, "Professor McGonagall. "
The brunette nods in acknowledgement.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," says Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Professor McGonagall says.
Professor McGonagall opens the door wider. The entrance hall was so big, Harry thinks, you could fit the whole of the Dursley's house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.
The new students follow Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry hears the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school must already be here – but Professor McGonagall shows the first years into the small, empty chamber off of the hall. The students crowd in, standing rather closer together than they normally would have, peering about nervously.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall says. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you ae here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room."
"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." Professor McGonagall says. "Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours."
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school," (Y/n) and Hermione's gazes all meet at Professor McGonagall's words. "I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Professor McGonagall's eyes linger for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose.
(Y/n) looks over and sees Harry nervously trying to flatten his hair.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," Professor McGonagall tells the nervous first years, "Please wait quietly."
She leaves the chamber, and Harry swallows.
"How exactly do they sort us into Houses?" Harry asks Ron.
"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Ron answers, and Harry's heart gives a horrible jolt.
A test? In front of the while school? But Harry didn't know any magic yet, what on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment he arrived. He looks around anxiously and saw that everyone else looks terrified, too, except (Y/n), who seemed to be holding an a face of calm on her face for the benefit of everyone else. No one was talking much except for Hermione Granger, and (Y/n) (L/n)-Granger, who were whispering very fast to each other all the spells they had learned and wondering which ones they might need. Harry is trying really hard not to listen to them. He had never been more nervous, never, not even when he'd had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that he'd somehow turned his teacher's wig blue. Harry and (Y/n) kept their eyes on the door. Any second now, Harry thinks, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead Harry to his doom.
Then something happened that made Harry jump about a foot in the air – several people behind him scream.
"What the -?"
Harry gasps, and so did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed thought the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. The ghost seemed to be arguing. What looks like to be a fat little monk says, "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to five him a second chance –"
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?"
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights seems to have noticed the first years.
(Y/n) raises her hand nervously, and the ghost in the ruff turns to her.
"Yes?" He asks.
"We're new students, we're about to be sorted," She says, shaking a little.
A few people nod in agreement.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" says the Friar. "My old House, you know."
"Move along now," a sharp voice says. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
Professor McGonagall had returned to the hall, and one by one, the ghosts float away through the opposite wall.
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall tells the first years, "and follow me."
(Y/n) felling nervous, falls in line behind Ron, Hermione behind her. Professor McGonagall leads the first years out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
(Y/n) had never imagined such an amazing thing could exist. Thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, Probably the House tables, (Y/n) thinks, where the older students were sitting, light the Great Hall. On the tops of the tables, there were glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall leads the first years towards the table, so that they come to a halt in a line facing the other students. Hundreds of faces stare back at them like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight, and dotted among the students, the ghost shone a misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looks upwards and sees a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. Harry hears Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in –"
"Hogwarts, A History?" (Y/n) asks her sister with a smile.
It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, Harry thinks, and that the Great hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.
Harry quickly looks down again as Professor McGonagall silently places a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she puts a pointed wizard's hat. The hat was so patched and frayed, and extremely dirty, Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house, Harry thinks.
Harry think wildly, Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, It seems the soft of thing. (Y/n) then notices that everyone is staring at the hat, and she looks towards it too. For a few moments, there was complete silence, then the hat twitches, a rip near the brim opens wide like a mouth – and the hat begins to sing:
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, But don't judge on what you see, I'll eat myself if you can find A smarter hat than me. You can keep your bowlers black, Your top hats sleek and tall, For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can cap them all. There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see, So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be. You might belong in Gryffindor, Where dwell the brave at heart, Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart; You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil; Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, If you've a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind; Or perhaps in Slytherin You'll make your real friends, Those cunning folk use any means To achieve their ends. So put me on! Don't be afraid ! And don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands (though I have none) For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
The whole hall bursts into applause as the hat finishes its song. It bows to each of the four tables and then becomes quote still again.
"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispers to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."
Harry smiles weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but Harry wishes they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seems to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't feel brace or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the had had mentions a House for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him.
Professor McGonagall now steps forward holding a long roll of parchment.
"Abbott, Hannah!" Professor McGonagall calls the first name.
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbles out of line, puts on the hat, but before the hat falls over her eyes, (Y/n) shoots her a smile, and Hannah smiles thankfully back. The hat falls over Hannah's eyes, and after a moment's pause –
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouts the hat.
The table on the right cheers and claps as Hannah goes to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. (Y/n) sees ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouts the hat again, and Susan moves to sit next to Hannah.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!" shouts the hat and the table second from the left claps this time; several Ravenclaws stand up to shake hands with Terry as he joins them.
"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" becomes the first Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could wee Ron's twin brothers catcalling.
"Bulstrode, Millicent," then becomes a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they look like an unpleasant lot.
Harry definitely looks sick, (Y/n) thinks. Harry remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. Harry had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him.
"Finch – Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Sometimes, (Y/n) noticed, the hat shouted out the House at once, but at others it took a while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy that was standing next to harry in line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
"Granger, Hermione!"
(Y/n) smiles warmly at her sister as she runs to the stool and jams the hat eagerly onto her head.
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouts the hat, and Ron groans.
A horrible thought strikes Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train?
When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."
Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"
Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.
There weren't many people left now.
"Moon" . . . , "Nott" . . . , "Parkinson" . . . , then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" . . . , then "Perks, Sally-Anne" . . . , and then, at last —
"Potter, Harry!"
As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
"Potter, did she say?"
"The Harry Potter?"
The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.
"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting. . . . So where shall I put you?"
Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.
"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that — no? Well, if you're sure — better be GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.
He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.
"Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Harry crossed his finger under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him.
"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry.
There were only two people left to be sorted, (Y/N), and a tall boy with black hair.
"Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin, and at last, (Y/n)'s name was called.
"(L/n)-Granger, (Y/n)!" Professor McGonagall shouts, and the (H/l), (H/c) steps up to the stool. She turns around, and nervously looks around, Hermione meets her gaze from across the hall, and Hermione smiles at her sister softly.
(Y/N)'s POV
I sit on the stool, and the hat falls over my eyes.
I jump a little as I hear the Sorting Hat starts talking in my head. "Well, your ambitious, and a strong leader, I see, qualities of Slytherins, ah, but there is something else here, patience and loyalty, also qualities of a Hufflepuff. But there's something else here, wisdom, wit, and a lot of creativity, all qualities of Ravenclaw. But also courage, bravery, and daring, so where to put you?" The hat asks. "Brilliantly smart father, daringly brave mother."
"You know my dad?" (Y/n) thinks. Though she knew little about her mother, she knew absolutely nothing about her father.
"Your father was a famous muggle," the Sorting Hat says softly, only loud enough for (Y/n) to hear. "Extremely witty and intelligent beyond his years."
"So he wasn't a wizard," (Y/n) comes to this conclusion.
"No," the Sorting Hat confirms.
"What about my mother?" (Y/n) thinks.
"She was a Gryffindor, a muggle-born like yourself."
Hermione's POV
"She's been on that stool for like ten minutes," Harry murmurs to Hermione, who was sitting Percy, across from Harry.
"She's a hat stall," Percy Weasley says softly. "The first since Peter Pettigrew about twenty years ago."
There's a silence for another five minutes before the hat finally shouts, "GRYFFINDOR!"
(Y/n) takes off the hat off her head, then grins.
(Y/n) jogs over to sit beside her sister.
Hermione smiles widely at (Y/n).
"Can't get rid of me that easily," (Y/n) teases.
Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet, and he was beaming at the students, his arms open wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.
"Welcome!" he says. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" Professor Dumbledore finishes, sitting down.
Everyone claps and cheers, (Y/n) and Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or not. Sitting beside Percy Weasley, Harry was thinking the same thing.
"Is he - a bit mad?" Harry asks Percy uncertainly.
"Mad?" Percy answers airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes."
"Potatoes, Harry?" Percy asks.
Harry's mouth falls open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.
The Dursleys had never starved Harry, but he'd never been allowed to eat as much as he had wanted. Dudley had always take anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piles his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and begins to eat. It was delicious.
"That does look good," says the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.
"Cant you -?"
"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," says the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."
"I know who you are!" Ron says suddenly. "My brothers told me about you – you're Nearly Headless Nick!"
I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —" the ghost began stiffly, but Hermione interrupts, (Y/N) looking over her shoulder.
"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"
"Now, Hermione dear, that's not polite," (Y/N) says, and Hermione grins at her sister before turning her attention back to the ghost.
Sir Nicholas looks extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he had wanted.
"Like this," he says irritably. He seizes his left ear and pulls; his whole head swings off his neck and falls onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had clearly tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking very pleased at the stunned looks on the first year Gryffindors' faces, Nearly Headless Nick flips his head back onto his neck, coughs, and says, "So – new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house Championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable – he's the Slytherin ghost."
(Y/N) and Harry look over at the Slytherin table and see a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank starting eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was sitting right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look very pleased with the seating arrangement.
"How did he get covered in blood?" Thora and Seamus Finnigan ask with great interest.
"I've never asked," says Nearly Headless Nick delicately.
When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food fades from the plates, leaving hem sparkling clean as before, then, a moment later the deserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, Jell-O, rice pudding, and an assortment of fresh fruits.
As (Y/N) helps herself to a couple of strawberries and some chocolate éclairs, the talk turned to their families.
"I'm half-and-half," explains Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of nasty shock for him."
The others laugh, and Ron turns to Neville.
"What about you, Neville?" Ron asks.
"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," Neville begins, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me — he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned — but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced — all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here — they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."
"What about you?" asks Seamus Finnegan.
(Y/n) looks up, startled, but then speaks. "My mother, that I know of, was Muggleborn. My father was a muggle. I grew up with Hermione here for my whole life. My real parents are dead, well, that I know of."
Harry glances at the (H/c) haired girl as she turns back to Hermione and Percy Weasley, who were talking about lessons.
"I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult –" Hermione rambles.
"You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing –" Percy says.
"What about Charms?" Hermione asks. "What's that like?"
"Well, in Charms, you learn to cast spells that alter an object without changing it's nature." Percy says.
"Wait," (Y/N) interrupts, "so if we were given, like, a teapot, would we have to make it dance across the desk?"
"Yes, exactly (Y/N), that doesn't change how it looks, if you wanted to turn it into a tortoise, that spell would be taught in Transfiguration." Percy explains.
Harry, who is beginning to feel warm and sleepy, looks up at the High Table again. Hagrid is drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall is talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.
It happens very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looks past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes - and a sharp, hot pan shoots across the scars imprinted into (Y/n)'s and Harry's skin.
(Y/n) slaps her hand to the hourglass shaped scar on her neck. Harry does the same, letting out an "Ouch!"
"What is it?" Percy asks, Hermione turning to study her sister.
"N-nothing," Harry mumbles.
The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off for Harry was the feeling he had gotten from teh teacher's look - a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.
"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Harry asks, and (Y/n) and Percy's gazes turn to the Head Table.
"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to – everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." Percy says.
(Y/n) and Hermione turn their attentions back onto each other and start up a quiet conversation. (Y/n) notices, out of the corner of her eye, Harry watching Snape for a while, but Snape never looked back at Harry.
At last, the desserts disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore gets to his feet, the hall falling silent.
"Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you." He begins.
"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashes in the direction of the Weasley twins, as he says the last part. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." Hermione's and (Y/N)'s eyes meet at Dumbledore's last few words, while Harry laughs, but he was one of the few that did.
"He's not serious?" Harry mutters to Percy.
"Must be," says Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere – the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cries Dumbledore. Harry notices that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.
Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twists itself, snakelike, into words.
"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"
And the whole school bellows:
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, Teach us something please, Whether we be old and bald Or young with scabby knees, Our heads could do with filling With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,  Dead flies and bits of fluff, So teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we've forgot, Just do your best, we'll do the rest, And learn until our brains all rot."
Everyone finishes the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins are left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducts their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who claps the loudest.
"Ah, music," Dumbledore says, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
The Gryffindor first years follow Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was to sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climb up more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and (Y/N) was just wondering how much farther thy had to go when they came to a sudden halt.
A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and (Y/N)'s eyes narrow in suspicion. Percy takes a step toward them as they start throwing themselves at him.
"Peeves," Percy whispers to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raises his voice, "Peeves – show yourself."
A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answers.
"Do you want me to get the Bloody Baron?" Percy asks.
There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appears, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.
"Oooooooh!" he says, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"
He swoops suddenly at them, and they all duck.
"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barks Percy.
Peeves sticks out his tongue and vanishes, dropping the walking sticks above (Y/n)'s head. (Y/n) slides instinctively out of the way, catching the walking sticks in one hand.
Harry and Ron look slightly impressed as (Y/n) sets the sticks on the ground silently, then walks over to stand beside Hermione.
"You want to watch out for Peeves," says Percy as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, and he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."
At the very end of the corridor hangs a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress. "Password?" she asks.
"Caput Draconis," answers Percy, and the portrait swings forwards to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scramble through - Neville needing a leg up - and find themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.
Percy directs the girls rough one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase - (Y/n) figured they were in one of the towers - they find their beads at last: four four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up and, too tired to talk much, (Y/n) pulls on a pair of emerald green pajamas, the color matching (Y/n)'s eyes.
Marvel jumps out of her basket, eyeing Hermione then (Y/n) then hopping up into Hermione's bed, curling up onto Hermione's stomach.
Word Count: 8327 words
Bye!
Love y'all!                Kaitlynn❤️😍
29 notes · View notes
minervahopebeyond · 3 years
Text
Blood Daffodils.
Hello!! So here it is! I hope you like it, we are so near to the battle that I’m internally screaming. Please let me know what you thought!! 💕💕 I love to read your comments, they always make my day a little bit better 😊✨ Ps. I’ve checked but sorry if you find any errors in this one
Chapter 18: Safe house.
He slowly opened his eyes, very aware of the fact that he was alone in Harry’s bed... The memories of the night before flashed through his mind and he couldn’t help but to smile as he turned and buried his nose in the pillow, enjoying the smell of Potter’s cologne. Where was he?
Draco got off the bed and grabbed the night-robe that was on the chair right beside him.
Everything seemed pretty quiet, if Harry had woken up early, normally, he could hear him preparing breakfast downstairs, just because he was bored. But no, nothing.
He started to climb down the stairs, and, with every step he took, Draco was feeling more and more nervous. The flowers weren’t hurting him because they were still too happy from last night, but they were alert and that wasn’t a good thing. When the blond boy opened the door of the kitchen, and didn’t find any sign of Potter, he turned around and ran upstairs.
He opened the door of his bedroom, quietly, just in case that Ron was actually still sleeping and he was just being a paranoid arsehole, jumping to conclusions. The room was desolated, Weasley’s backpack wasn’t on the corner were it always was, and when Draco opened their wardrobe he was not shocked to find that most of his friend’s clothes were gone.
“No no no no no no no.” He mumbled repeatedly as he crossed the hallway to open Granger’s room without knocking.
Clean. Perfectly well made bed, the muggle photographs that she had in her nightstand weren’t there and, just like Ron, most of her clothes weren’t there either.
Gryffindor back-stabbing traitors. No, he wasn’t going to allow this.
He walked to his room again, the house still in silence, and took the map from under his bed. If they were at Grimmauld again he was going to kill them.
And he tried the spell.
And he tried it again.
And again
And again.
And again.
The blood wasn’t moving. It attempted to, it circled but it settled right in the same spot still.
‘Why isn’t it working?’
The flowers were scratching him now, like the drugged haze had finally faded away, and it made him very aware that something was definitely wrong. Like the kind of wrong that he couldn’t fix.
He tried the spell again and the blood still marked the same spot. ‘But they aren’t here, are they?’
“Oh no, weasel. Tell me you didn’t.” Draco pleaded as he reached over to the little drawer in the redhead’s nightstand. The place where he kept the pictures of his family and the little rock that Granger had found in the garden one day, claiming that it had a shape of a heart before leaving it on the grass again, the one that Ron secretly put in his pocket afterwards. Everything that was important to him was kept in that drawer... Now it was empty, except for one thing.
The coughing fit started as soon as he saw it. Fucking weasel, bloody excuse of a best friend, lying to his fucking face, leaving the necklace and leaving him here. The tears started to course down his cheeks, his lungs were burning worst than ever.
He saw a little note taped, almost hidden in the back of the drawer. Desperately, he reached over to take it in his hands. Maybe it was an address, maybe he had tricked the other two stupid parts of the Golden Trio.
He felt like his heart was shattering in a million pieces.
I’m sorry, Ferret. It wasn’t my call.
He let out a cry of pain as he felt the flowers tearing him up inside. His throat was raw from the screaming as he just kept on coughing and crying. Petal after petal, the pain didn’t stop. Not even a bit, nothing.
The daffodils kept on screaming at him, making things worse, they always made everything fucking worse.
‘HE LEFT US, HE DOESN’T WANT US. HE LEFT US, HE DOESN’T WANT US. HE LEFT US, HE DOESN’T WANT US. HE LEFT US, HE DOESN’T WANT US.’
And if that thought alone wasn’t enough for Draco to choke, it was replaced by something much more painful: the truth.
‘HE DOESN’T LOVE US BACK, HE DOESN’T CARE.’
Suffocation. Unstoppable suffocation.
He heard someone running down the hallway, the door being slammed open.
“KID! SIRIUS! COME NOW-“
But Mr. Potter was cut short by Draco coughing even louder, wheezing as the little air entered to be expelled from his lungs as soon as possible. The raw pain in the middle of the chest was something that he felt kind of familiar with... But not quite like this. Never like this.
“HARRY!!” James cried for help and that only made things worse. Because Potter was not coming. Potter had actually abandoned him and left with his true friends. Potter had finally come to terms with him being a fucking liability on the battle field. The same boy that the night before had kissed him before whispering that Draco was perfect.
The unbearable need to expulse the Daffodil took over. He started to force his own coughs, it was like he was finally controlling some of this awful feeling. It sounded horrible, though.
“CAN SOMEONE IN THIS HOUSE COME HERE?? Kid, you are going to be fine, I swear-“
“Harry isn’t here.” Sirius worried voice echoed in the room. He coughed even harder. “Oh, Circe. James! Harry isn’t here” He repeated as he threw himself to the floor and started to hug Draco tightly.
“Little cousin. Listen to me.” His voice was interrupted by the first entire Daffodil coming out from his mouth, all covered in scarlet blood. Yes, the first one, because the chest crushing pain wasn’t going away, which meant that there were more coming. “Oh for Merlin. THAT’S AN ENTIRE DAFFODIL JAMES!-“
“Sirius, you are not helping.”
“Oh, really?” And Draco felt his cousin taking his face in his hands, forcing him to look up, even though the has still coughing and the drops of blood were staining his hands. “Draco: Harry is in love with you. Do you hear me? He’s been in love with you for a long time, he said so. James, tell him.”
“Yes, kid... He would kill us for telling you, but he is.”
And Draco forced himself to cough the second daffodil, all disgustingly red and burning its way up his throat. And once the fucking flower was out, he raised his eyes and hissed.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” He cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand, still crying. “He left me here! I’m going to strangle him.”
And, suddenly, with Draco coughing a little more softly, no longer in immediate danger, James and Sirius were slapped in the face with the situation.
Harry had ran away. He left. He took Granger and Weasley with him. Draco felt like the tears in their eyes were even more heart breaking than what Potter did to him.
——————————-
“Pack you bags. We are leaving, kid.”
Draco frowned as he lifted his eyes from his book.
“What?”
“We are going to a safe house. The wards are too weak because you are sick and Sirius level of anxiety keeps his magic out of control. I can’t keep them up for much longer. We are leaving.”
His voice sounded so determined, there was no place for Draco’s opinion there. None. And they couldn’t leave.
“They are not back yet!” He said and that made the daffodils hurt him because it was like he kept reminding them that Potter was not here. He coughed a few times before speaking again. “ Your son isn’t back yet.”
“I am fully aware. Pack your bags.”
“NO.”
And the door of his bedroom was opened again, this time Sirius entering the room. It was kind of weird because he could feel him... his magic. Normally he felt everyone’s magic, but in this case? It was like something that burned him, that made him nervous. Mr. Potter said that the more you live with it, the less you feel it.
“Is everything alright?”
“No. It’s not! “ Draco told his cousin, his voice was desperate, trying to find some kind of support. “I’m not going anywhere. They said not to send anything, if we leave then they are not going to be able to find us.”
Mr. Potter was looking at him, Draco could see the purple circles around his brown eyes, the bags under them, and he could notice that he was tired beyong measure... But they couldn't leave. He loved Sirius and James with his entire heart but if this was a choice between them and Potter... It was always going to be Potter. Even if the arsehole left him to rot in this house and had no intention whatsoever in coming back. Even then.
Sirius walked passing by Mr. Potter, and he touched his arm in a very gentle way as he did. He continued walking until he was beside Draco's bed. He sighed and then spoke, his voice cracking in the middle.
"Little cousin, if they want to find us they can. I know that, James knows that and <cite>you </cite> defenitely know that. We can't send a Patronus, but they can, they just are choosing not to." 
Yeah, that or they actually were in danger, hurt, kidnap or worse... But neither Draco or them had intentions of bringing that up. The flowers were already constant reminder of how worried he was and how unwanted he felt. So fucking lonely and angry... and still, here he was, trying to convince them to stay, hoping to hear the crack of apparation and Potter's voice again.
“Can’t we wait another day...? Please.” Draco begged Sirius with the puppy eyes that usually worked on him. Out of the two of them, Sirius was the most permissive and soft. James was much more ‘If you live under my roof you are going to follow my rules’ but given that he looked like a twenty-two year old... well, it looked rather comical for him to be setting rules and shit. But he still did, like right now.
“Jamie, could you leave us alone for a minute?” He asked kindly, looking at the man behind him.
“No, Padfoot. You are going to cave! I can see it in those stupidly gorgeous eyes of yours.”
But Sirius just held his gaze, the corner of his lips moving sightly upwards, and Mr. Potter huffed before excusing himself out of the room.
It was rather cute, how utterly whipped James was. He always thought that it would be Sirius, the one who gave him all... But after living with them for so much time he realized that if his cousin asked for something, then Mr. Potter would just do it. He enjoyed spoiling Sirius. Draco saw himself in Mr. Potter sometimes, doing things just to make Harry happy.
‘Look how that turned out.’
He couldn’t help to cough a little and Sirius turned to look at him again, this time something that resembled pity appeared in his eyes. Draco hated pity.
“We really have to leave. Someone offered us a safe place and we have to take it-“
“Who?” Draco asked as he played with the pages of his book, just to occupy his hands in something other than this horrible conversation, in something other than the constant taste of blood in his mouth.
“Remus.” Sirius answered.
Draco raised his eyebrows and looked up, surprised. They hadn’t seen Remus and Nymphadora since the wedding... Sirius and James had told him that Dora was expecting almost a month after the six of them started to be locked up in the mansion. Apparently she was a couple of months into the pregnancy the last time they had seen them. Harry was desperate to see Remus and Dora, to know that they were okay... and now he wasn’t even here.
Edward Remus Lupin had been born on the beginning of March and Draco craved to meet him, he just wished that it would have been in other circumstances.
“Sirius... Just one day. Is the only thing I’m asking... Give them one more day and if they are not back yet then I go without saying anything.” His cousin sighed, tired.
“I’ll see what I can do-“
“Yes! Thank you!” And Draco pulled him into a bone crushing hug. Sirius chuckled a little as he hugged him back.
“You are not the only one who is hurting you know...” He said and made Draco’s heart ache. “ This isn’t easy for him, he is trying to keep us alive because he cares, because he loves us too.” There was a pause, he felt like it lasted forever. “Do you think that he doesn’t want to go after him? He already missed so much of Harry’s life and now-“
“I know.” Draco whispered with his voice cracking. “I just- I wished they hadn’t left.”
Draco hated to talk about this because Sirius would <cite>always</cite> reply the same way. This time was no different.
“He is too in love with you, it clouds his judgement.”
And, as always, Draco started to cough, staining his cousin’s shirt with the drops of blood. Sirius stopped talking after that.
——————————
Mr. Potter had to sided apparated both of them. The poor man was getting exhausted and it showed on his face. Draco and Sirius were in no state to apparate by themselves, there was no other choice.
They apparated in the middle of nowhere. At least, that’s what Draco thought because there was literally nothing except from trees around them.
“Well, this brings me back.” Sirius said as he grabbed the luggage. Draco couldn’t even carry his own because just walking was exhausting. He felt so bloody weak.
Mr. Potter offered him his arm as support, saying that the house wasn’t far away but maybe it would be too much for Draco to walk alone.
The flowers were constantly cutting him. He became used to the disgusting metallic taste in his mouth mixed with the flowery taste. And the lungs, Merlin. Breathing was so fucking difficult, it was a chore, a job, he had to do it and force himself to keep on doing it because otherwise he would die... But it was so painful, so fucking painful. Like, right then, Draco could feel the breeze caressing his face, he could smell the scent of the forest, but when he tried to take a deep breath it would just end in coughing. The flowers missed Potter and Draco felt the same way, he couldn’t even argue with them about it.
It seemed invisible at first, the wards were so perfectly maintained that you couldn’t even imagine were the cabin even was. Mr. Potter and Sirius clearly knew the path by heart, as to how... it was a mystery to Draco. The trees all looked the same to him.
“Where are we?”
“Cheshire, in the Delamere forest.” James answered with a kind voice. “We used to come here all the time on summers.”
Draco looked around, it was very pretty although for him it was like being in the middle of nowhere. It looked like all was orange and green with the right light. It was almost noon, the sun rays passed through the treetops and formed a halo over some them. It looked rather beautiful... If Draco weren’t feeling like a walking corpse he would probably take a walk around.
Then, just behind a rather large beech, a small wooden cabin appeared into view. Remus and Nymphadora had adjusted the wards for them so they could get in easily. Still, once they were inside of the wards they found Remus standing in front of the house pointing at them with his wand.
“When did you figured out my secret? What did you tell me when you did?” His voice was controlled and steady. Mr. Potter was the one who answered first.
“Second year, after Halloween. I told you that you were the least scary person I knew, that my mom still had the first place when she was angry.”
Then Remus turned to Sirius, asking him what was the thing that scared him the most, the one thing that he confessed to him at Grimmauld.
“You told me that you were scare of being alone again. After I escaped, you were staying at Grimmauld’s in the guest room with the pink lamp that I hate, we were kind of drunk and you told me that you never wanted to be alone again.”
And finally he turned to Draco. It was rather comical because he was so stressed out and tired and he missed Potter so much that he coughed a few petals right there.
“Hello, Draco.” Remus said with a smile. “I heard that you didn’t want to come at all.”
The blond boy sighed and pushed Mr. Potter to move forward and enter the house already. He wasn’t in the bloody mood.
Remus yelled, telling Nymphadora that it was safe to come out, and suddenly, Draco was in front of a one-month-old baby. His cousin was there too, helding the little thing, but he couldn’t take his eyes away from Edward.
He was so so little, his hair was light blue, almost turquoise, it was one of the proofs of his metamorphmagus powers. His eyes were dark, but most babies didn’t show their true eye color until they were three months old...
He let go of James’ arm and began to walk towards little Edward.
He could hear everyone talking around him, the marauders greeting each other, even Dora joking about the fact that Draco hadn’t said hi to any of them but here he was, enchanted by little Teddy.
Once he was finally in front of him, he said a little quiet ‘Hi’ to Nymphadora and then continued to fix his eyes on the baby.
“Hi, I’m your cousin... I don’t have cool hair like you but we are related.”
Edward blinked, it seemed like he almost understood what Draco had said because his eyes were trying hard to focus in his blond hair. He extended one of his chubby hands towards it with difficulty and Draco bowed his head to let this cute baby touch his hair.
He was too little, he didn’t have a strong grip, he was kind of messing up Draco’s hair and trying to pull it but failing in the process and ending up running his fingers through it instead.
“Teddy seems to like you, little cousin.” Nymphadora said with amusement, he was about to respond when he heard Sirius.
“Hey! Don’t call him that, he is my little cousin, find your own.” He could hear Mr. Potter’s laughter and when he moved away from Edward’s to see them, they were already hugging.
“Ignore him, Tonks! He is just afraid that the kid might like you better-“
“I am not!” Sirius exclaimed.
Nymphadora chuckled before responding.
“He is my little cousin too, stupid! And now, just because you said that, I’m going to call him that all the time.” Sirius gasped and Draco couldn’t help but to laugh. Then, Dora turned around and gestured for them to enter already. “I’m preparing lunch. Honey, would you showed them their bedroom?” And Remus nodded, of course.
Draco made an effort to take a few steps towards Sirius to pull him into a hug, stealing him from Mr. Potter’s arms.
“Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite.” He said in a low voice and even though Sirius’ eyes shone with happiness, he just flipped his hair and shrugged.
“Of course I am. It isn’t even a competition because if it were: I would totally win.”
Draco laughed again and tightened his arms around his cousin, walking towards the little cabin. He thought that Potter would love to be here... and the flowers started to scratch him again.
‘WE SHOULDN’T HAVE LEFT.’
And he kind of agreed with them a little.
———————————
At night, Draco laid in the pull out couch in the middle of the living room. The house was quiet and the only sound he could hear was the wind going through the trees, making them move and the animals that chose the night to walk around the forest. That was all he could hear and it was beautiful. The flowers were moving restlessly inside of him. Of course sleeping wasn't an option, these days he could barely get three hour of uninterrupted sleep, they wouldn't let him get more than that. He sometimes felt like they were being ungrateful with Sirius and Mr. Potter... But given the fact that the daffodils were actually Draco, maybe he was the one who was being an ungrateful brat and couldn't admit it.
Draco missed Potter. He actually missed Harry and felt like calling him by his first name did not express how mad he was, or how sad, or even how much he wanted him. 'Potter' was a name that came with so much history, such long years of pining that seemed to never end. Everytime he had let himself think that it was possible, that maybe something  was starting to finally come together... Every single hope he had would get crushed. He hated it, he was tired of it.
But he missed him. He missed him so much that his entires body craved and ached for him. So much that the flowers sometimes would get tired of hurting him, after so much hours doing the same bloody thing...
And he wanted to tell him, he wanted to tell him everything. About the cabin, about Edward, about Remus and Nymphadora. He wanted to tell him about James and how much of an angel he was, that he left this cabin in his will for Remus, that he had to actually fight with him to take it after all this years... He wanted to tell him everything and he couldn’t because he was not there.
No talks after midnight, no stolen kisses in the middle of the day, no listening to Queen while Potter run his fingers through his hair, and no-
He cursed under his breath at the feelin of the flowers cutting him open, coughing wildly. No more nights like the one in the attic.
He moved the covers, freeing himself from them and cursed because of the pain and effort that took standing up by himself. He walked very slowly to the wooden round table in the kitchen and grabbed one of the quills and come parchment that Remus had left there before going to bed. He sat down on the chair, making it creak, look at the blanc parchment and took a deep breath. It wasn’t the same, but it was something. He missed Potter, he missed him and if he didn’t do something about it soon the flowers were going to kill him.
Dear Harry:
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wonderofsteel · 7 years
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The Wrong Twin// Fred & Hermione & George
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Summary: Four times George Weasley misunderstood things, and one time someone explained thing to him.
Warnings: A twin with a broken heart
I
At first, he thought he was imagining things. What were the odds? The first clue were those looks she gave him, -or that he thought were for him-. With dreamy cheesy eyes while batting her eyelashes. She looked at where he was and when he looked back at her, she immediately looked away. But since no one else seemed noticed the cheesy (but lovely) looks, he thought it was all in his head.
Until one afternoon. Abandoned on a table, alongside a bunch of books, an inkwell, and an old backpack, he found a parchment in the Common Room. It was a draft for a Potions essay. It was rough and full of smudges, but in one corner it had his name written. Well, almost. With perfect calligraphy the word "Weasley" was written inside a big heart, surrounded by other little hearts.
Now, "Weasley" could be anybody. Well, not really. But it could be any Weasley, because, there was a lot of those in Hogwarts. Also, all the things could belong to any Gryffindor. He looked through the things until he realized that the bag had the name "Granger" on it. He smiled discreetly. With his heart beating with pure happiness he sited in a near table to wait for his twin.
His heart almost stopped when he saw Harry putting some of the books in his own bag. Was the parchment his? He waited for a while, watching at him. After a while, the brown haired girl arrived with her hair even messier than the usual, an untidy uniform and an undone tie, but the brightest of the smiles on her face. She picked up the things in the table, including the parchment, and left.
He thought about it for a while. It couldn't be Ginny. The precious Hermione couldn't belong to that team. There was nothing wrong about it, but that would only mean he didn't have any chance. Besides, it would be like betraying Harry or something.
It couldn't be Charlie or Bill, because she barely knew them. And although he had graduated last year, and they rarely spoked with each other, he really hoped it was not Percy, because that would have been catastrophic. Yeah, the were almost alike, talking about how dedicated they were with their school work. But Percy was an ugly stiff and Hermione was beautiful, and nice, and amusing, and beautiful, and intelligent, and sweet, and beautiful, and likable... Well, he was getting distracted.
So his theory leaved Ron, Fred, and himself as the suspects.
Happy with his thinking, he looked at his twin, who had just arrived.
They didn't notice the silly smile in each other.
II
Two or three weeks after he found the parchment she was still shy as usual, so he decided to make the first move.
So now he wrote something in a parchment.  
My precious Hermione:
Surely you don't know how much I love you. Maybe it was not love at first sight. You were just a kid with big tooth (I mean no harm I used to thought you were adorable), book lover and a rule freak.
Then I fell for you. I fell hard. I fell for your smile, for your eyes, for your messy hair, for your laugh, for your silk skin. I fell for the way you scold me for all the silly things  I do.
I really love you. I have this crazy, stupid way of loving you. I am not the most skilled with this stuff, but I had to say it somehow.
I love you. Absolutely simple and honest, I love you.
Maybe I'm a little cold and distant but I have a passionate side (maybe you will know it).
Well, it's about three in the morning and I am rambling but at least I already told you.
With love.
Your secret W.
He signed the letter that way. And packed it alongside a rose and a candy bag of Honeydukes. The next morning he left the package at the Owlery.
During breakfast Hermione received the gift. The twin smiled satisfied when her cheeks became pink. Fred looked at her, curious. He frown when he saw the rose.
That was the beginning of a bunch of letters, notes and gifts that he send her. At first Hermione looked head over heels, and nobody knew why.
III
He saw them talking at the library, they were whispering. Both of them were read and looked angry. He thought it was better not to go near them. They looked extremely mad. She was whispering something to him, making him even more angry. George thought it was already weird to see them talking, so it was even weirder to see them arguing. At some point, she looked like she was about to cry. So was he. Even if you couldn't tell at first sight George did noticed it. After all Fred was his twin.
After that nothing seemed  to fit anymore. The dying-lamp-looks stopped, alongside the little silly smiles and the blushing. They stopped completely. The beautiful Gryffindor was avoiding his lover. (The wrong one, of course)
But the letters didn't stopped.
One again he was waiting for his twin at the Common Room, he had wrote another note. He looked for her bag and picked a book with her name on it. But he dropped some parchments. He opened the book and left the new note there. Then he picked up the parchments. That's when he realized that, perfectly kept and organized, there were his letters.  Happiness invaded his body. He left everything right where he found it.
That's what gave him the courage to ask her to the Astronomy Tower in his next note.
Again, she arrived minutes later, with her hair a mess. Shortly after that his twin arrived too.
The three of them had silly smiles in their faces.
IV
George was nervous. His hands were wet with sweat and he felt like he had an hippogriff flying around in his stomach. Actually, twenty hippogriffs crashing against his stomach walls would be a more accurate description. He had never been so nervous before. He was paralyzed of fear, of panic.  
He was wearing his best tunic (it only had a couple of patches at the hem) he even had combed his hair.
He had put candles all around, but he couldn't make the spell for having music. He had only accomplished some not romantic at all Weird Sisters' songs. At least he had made the candles float. He had a bouquet of azaleas in his hand. He was almost ruining them because of his tight grip. He was really scared.
He heard steps. His heart started beating very fast. The steps were getting closer. His heart was running away from his chest. But then he heard more steps.
The chocolate eyed girl crossed the door. His heart stopped.
She was not alone.
Holding her hand there was a red haired boy. A Weasley. Identical to him.
V
George Weasley was shocked, the joke was on him now. He was now sitting in the stairs, the candles off, his eyes red. He didn't wanted to cry, but it was inevitable. It hurt so much it burned.
Hermione Granger had rejected him.
Not just that, she also had a boyfriend. And it was Fred Weasley. His twin brother.
The Weasley of the parchment was Fred. The looks were for Fred, but since they were always together it was easy to get get confused. Now, that explained the untidy moments she had lately.
She had explained him everything. She and Fred had a secret relationship of months. They didn't wanted to make it public for all the articles of the fake relationships of Hermione with Harry and Krum Rita Skeeter had published lately. They didn't wanted to add a third "victim" to the list.
That's why she had misunderstood the thing with "Your Secret W (Weasley)". He thought the letters were from Fred, because it fit perfectly in their relationship.  The twins had such a strong bond that they even shared the love for the same girl.
Anyways, Hermione confronted Fred about the letters, thanking him. He told her those weren't his and got jealous. That's why they fought and she was avoiding the twins. The day they fixed the things between them was the day he asked Hermione to meet him at the Astronomy Tower. But Fred wanted the gifts to stop.
That's why they were there together. Because she didn't had the heart to reject such a sweet guy and because Fred didn't trusted the secret admirer.
George couldn't help but to think that if Hermione loved Fred, then she was loving the wrong twin.
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moonylupin3576-blog · 7 years
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Fred- Hiding part 1
Y/N woke up to the familiar sound of three month old Sirius fussing. Sound travelled in the small two bedroom Diagon Alley apartment fast. Y/N began to sit up when the fussing stopped. She turned to the other side of the bed to see her husband Fred missing from his side of the bed. She smiled. Fred adored Sirius. Every moment he could spare from Weasley Wizard Wheezes, he spent with Y/N and their baby. Wanting to see a moment between the two Y/N slowly crept out of bed and towards Sirius’s bedroom. Fred held the soft baby. Laying Sirius down on his lap the little boy looked up at his father.Sirius's big brown eyes observed him curiously. Although only three months old. Sirius had a full head of curly black hair. He was the spitting image of Y/N’s father Sirius Black. Sirius began to baby talk as if in his short three months on the earth he had so much to tell his father about. “ I know.” Fred cooed back holding Sirius's tiny hands. Y/N watched at the door holding in her giggles as Fred cooed just as she did. Sirius soon discovered his hands and could no longer focus on Fred. “Oh, I see how it is. Your hands are more interesting than your old man.” Fred said jokingly disappointed. Y/N couldn't hold back her giggles any longer. Fred looked up to the door. “ How long have you been there?” “ Long enough.” Y/N walked in. “ Good morning my two lovely boys.” Sirius heard his mother’s voice and took his hand out of his mouth and squealed. “ Oh I see, Mummy is your favourite?” Fred said handing Sirius over to Y/N. “ You’d be the favourite too if you were his every meal.” Y/N began to get Fred ready for work. She began making his breakfast in the kitchen handing Fred a now full and very content Sirius.Fred sat with Sirius reading the Daily Prophet. Sirius’s eyes darted from moving photo to moving photo fascinated by the moving figures. Fred gave a small smile. If Sirius were older he would know the Prophet was now filled with war and the new government propaganda. Alast, Sirius watched blissfully unaware of the world around him. “ Love? Could you turn on the radio?” Y/N reached over the counter as she buttered toast and the radio turned on. Instead of the usual quidditch matches and helpful household potions the radio was full of grim news and the names of the dead. Fred and Y/N listened every morning hoping no one they knew would be called off. The part that upset Y/N the most was the ages after people’s names. “Henry Waterstone aged 29,Sarah Waterstone aged 27, and Emelia Waterstone aged 7 months.” Y/N felt her heart sink. Would Sirius’s name ever play on the old warn out radio? Fred felt the same feeling of dread as he looked at his wife growing paler. “ Turn it off Love. Let's eat something.” It was hard for Y/N to eat breakfast hearing of all the lives senselessly lost. She soon snapped out of her haze when Sirius started to whine. They say children can sense their parents emotions and Sirius seemed to be proof. “ You’re okay little man.” Fred said scooping Sirius up in one arm bouncing the baby up and down. Sirius let out a tiny giggle causing both of his parents to smile again. Y/N quickly looked at the clock. “ Oh Freddie! You’re late! George won’t appreciate opening up alone again. Here give em here.” Fred frown. Handing over his son. “ I’ll be home as soon as possible. Love you!” Fred stole a quick kiss before rushing out the door. “ Love you more!” Y/N called out from the doorway. “Alright Sirius we have a busy day ahead.” Y/N said as Sirius lay on Y/N’s bed struggling to get to his feet. Becoming frustrated he yelled at his feet. “ Now now. Here have a teething ring. Okay we have laundry, dishes, sweeping and it's mopping up day as well. Somewhere we need to fit going to the market and visiting your father for lunch. We can do it right?” Sirius chewed happily on his bright blue teething ring. Y/N placed Sirius gently in his cot in the living room. She combed his curly black hair out of his face. “ You have so much hair. I’ll have to give it a cut soon. You’ll be a ladies man like your father I just know it. Probably a prankster too. I’ll get tons of letters from your headmaster.” Sirius giggled as if knowing the future mischief he would cause. “ Alright. Let's get ready for today.” To Y/N’s surprised Fred rushed through the door an hour later. “ Fred?” Y/N asked perplexed as she did the dishes. “ Death eaters are on the street. We gotta get out of here.” He said in a calm but, stern voice. Y/N quickly dropped the plate in her hand into the sink. “Our documents are in our wedding box in the bedroom. I’ll pack Sirius’s things.” Y/N ran into Sirius’s bedroom where he lay quietly having a nap in his white washed crib. Y/N picked up her hospital bag. She threw an array of clothes and Sirius’s favourite toys in the bag. A huge bang at the door made Y/N jump. Sirius woke up from his nap and began to cry. Y/N scooped him up in her arms and hastily wrapped a green blanket around him. She headed toward the door. Fred had his wand pointed at the door. “ Who is it?” Fred asked above a whisper. “ It's George. We need to leave now.” George said behind the warn maple door.Y/N grabbed her wand and followed Fred out the door without a second glance at their peaceful Diagon Alley apartment. Down the stairs Fred and George peered around the door frame. Death Eaters had destroyed most of the shops leading to the apartment. “ Okay. We need to get out of Diagon Alley. I can fetch a cab to take us to Mum’s. I’ll go first. Then Y/N come behind me and Fred will keep an eye out for the back.” George whispered. Y/N nodded. She silently said to herself. Sirius baby, please don’t cry. Glass smashed with a large green bolts of light hitting the shop beside them. Sirius’s big brown eyes bugged out of his tiny head. Big tears threatened to give them away. Thinking fast Fred put a teething ring in Sirius’s mouth before he could cry out. “ Y/N, listen to me. George and I will make a distraction. I need you to take Sirius and run as fast as you can to the edge of Diagon Alley. Don’t look back.Get to the Burrow. George and I will meet you when we’re finished here. Do you understand?” Fred loaded the backpack of important documents onto Y/N’s back. Before Y/N could protest, Fred and George ran out into the street. Y/N ran down the cobblestone Alleyways dodging bits of old shops she had once enjoyed getting her school supplies for another year at Hogwarts. A bolt of green light went past Y/N’s head. “ Stop!” A voice yelled from behind her. A dead end. Her back against a grey wall.She could no longer suppress Sirius’s cries. He belted out his tiny cries. Three black hooded figures stood in front of her. “ Papers!” They demanded. Y/N shakingly reached in her backpack. “ Hurry!” The voices shouted causing Sirius to scream louder. With a shaking hand she handed her identity papers. “ Pure blood half Malfoy and Half Black.” One said to the others. “ What about the child? Is it a half blood?” Y/N violently shook her head. Managing to suppress Sirius’s cries to a whine. “ Papers!” Y/N riffled through her bag and pulled out his birth certificate. “ Pureblood half Black and...half Weasley? So half blood traitor?!” The hooded figure threw the birth certificate on the floor and stomped on it. “ Take them.” The one said to the other two. “ Please don’t do this! He’s just a baby!” “Shut up! You’re lucky i’m not just taking the child!” Behind the hooded man a boom caught there attention. A barrage of fireworks caused the three hooded figures to desperately dodge the flames. Fred and George jumped through the smoke. Stunning the men. Fred yanked Y/N off the grounds. “Run!” Outside the Diagon Alley walls were still unsafe. Fred reassured George that he could handle everything from this point and he could go home to his own wife and children. Y/N sat shaking on a park bench waiting for Arthur to arrive with a friend's car to pick them all up. Fred sat beside her and pulled her close. “ It's going to be alright.” Sirius bundled in his dinosaur blanket slept blissfully unaware of his parents anxiety. “ we were almost the names on the radio Fred…” Fred kissed Y/N’s forehead. “ I would never let that happen. You and Sirius are my world and i’ll be damned if I let those pure blood pricks take that away from me. We’ll make it. When this war is over Sirius will never have to worry about a death eaters or even a war. We’re doing this for his future.” Y/N gave a sad smile. “ I just want Sirius to be safe…” “ I know baby. Me too.” Now knowing Sirius's life was in danger the Weasley family gathered around the dinner table. “ We have two options.” Arthur said firmly at the table. “ We can lay low here and have the risk of being attacked or, we can go into hiding. I can’t promise everyone will be together.” Silence fell on the table. Molly sat blankly stirring her tea. “I don’t want everyone scattered across Britain.” Molly finally said. “ This war is bad enough without having to split this family up. Who knows how long this could last. Days...months and maybe even years.” Arthur sighed. “Molly you and I know we are not on the death eaters good list. If...if they find out Ron is with Harry we’ll be seen as a threat and hunted down. Maybe I can arrange something for Fred and Y/N..although with a baby in toe it might not be easy.” Y/N peered down at Fred’s hands on the table. His knuckles were white and clenched. Sirius began to fuss. “ Excuse me.” Y/N rushed away from the table tears welling in her eyes. She sat in Fred’s childhood bedroom he shared with his twin George. Memories of wanting a moment of alone time to steal a kiss amongst the chaos of siblings came flooding back. Y/N fed Sirius with thoughts going through her mind of dread. Will we be separated? How long will this war last? They had left their whole life in London in an instant. Everything they have worked for their shop, their home and, belongings were gone. With only the clothes on their back and Sirius’s belongings. Y/N wiped tears from her eyes. She was stronger then this. Before she had Sirius nothing made her cry but, the prospect of something happening to Fred and Sirius was too much. The doorknob jiggled. Y/N quickly gained her composure as Fred came through the door. Without saying a word he crouched down on the floor in front of Y/N while Sirius laid on her lap. “ I’ve saved up some money stored away. Dad and I agreed it would be best to get Sirius fake identity papers. He doesn’t look like a Weasley.” Fred gave a soft sad smile looking at the sleeping Sirius. “ That way. If you or him get caught you he wouldn’t be attached to the Weasley name. Percy knows someone who can get them for tomorrow evening. Then we’ll leave here.” Y/N’s heart was broken. This war would take her son’s name. “ Where are we going?” “ I don’t know...we are not to tell anybody we are leaving. Not even George and Poppy. We leave after dinner tomorrow.” Y/N’s tears were too heavy to hold anymore. Her shoulders shook as she tried to silence her sobs. Fred got up and sat beside her on the bed. He was wiping away his own silent tears. Sirius lay fast asleep.
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