#merlin: fine give me a knife i'll do it

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

WELL HELLO THERE

Pairings: Animagus!George Weasley x fem! Summary: George is too nervous to talk to you, so he finds another way to be with you Warnings: Mention of a cut. Notes: I might do another one where he's a different animal. or I'll do Fred. i just wanted to write him as a doggy Animagus.

George wanted nothing more than to talk to you.

you were on his mind every minute of the day.

from staring at the back of your head in transfiguration, looking at you in the great hall at meals and searching for you in the halls.

he was infatuated with you, and he wanted to be able to talk to you, but when he tried yesterday, it didn't go so well..

you were both in potions, brewing up something George doesn't even remember

-

you were both at the same table, reading from the book, measuring and cutting the ingredients for the potion.

"excuse me? hi, can I borrow that?" he looked up from his book and looked at you, his mouth slightly open

"me?" he muttered nervously

"yeah, I just need to-" you said, holding your hand out as you pointed to the knife

"-yeah here you go" he cut you off, picking the knife up and handing it to you. accidentally cutting your hand as he held it out from the handle

you winced in pain "shit" you whispered

"merlin, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm really sorry-" he panicked before his potion exploded in his face

he stirred to many times.

he wiped his eyes with his sleeve, his eyes landing on you, your hand closed in a fist to stop the bleeding and Snape beside you, glaring at him

"50 points from Gryffindor" he announced "detention Mister Weasley"

George sighed as Snape walked away. he looked back at you

"I'm really sorry" he repeated himself to you.

"it's fine" he heard you mumbled

-

after that class, George knew he wouldn't be able to talk to you, he'd be too embarrassed and scared that you'd walk away from him, angry or upset at him

he didn't mean to hurt you. he was just shocked and excited to talk to you.

but he didn't want to give up.

-

George was in Hogsmeade, going to buy some sweets and go to the joke shop when he saw you, walking towards the woods.

it was clear as day so he didn't think anything would be in there to hurt you, but he insisted on following you in.

the snow covered the trees and fell onto his sweater, decorating it with little white dots as he followed you.

he watched as you turned around abruptly, hearing something behind you.

he hid behind the massive tree and held him breath, waiting a moment before looking back.

you could hardly see the roofs of the small town anymore, but you didn't go too far in.

he stayed a good distance away from you as you walked, finding a tree and sitting down, leaning against it as you fished a book out of your bag.

he admired you as you started reading it.

he wanted to go to you, but he couldn't. and if he went back, you would probably find him and call him out for stalking you. he didn't want to make a fool out of himself again, but he would hate to be made out as a creep for following you.

but then he remembered what he was able to do and smiled.

-

you smiled as you read your book, it was pretty good so far, and the quiet was nice. you couldn't get it anywhere else.

then you heard a shuffle. you looked up, not expecting anything, it was probably snow falling from a branch.

but there it was. a big ball of brown and white fluff.

it barked at you

you tilted your head. and it tilted it's head back, making you smile.

it barked again, coming closer, it's ears flopping as it trotted its way over to you. you put your book down and held your hand out for it

"well hello there" you beamed as it sniffed your hand before leaning into it

"where's your owner?" you asked, looking around. it barked again, sitting up proudly.

you noticed there wasn't a collar on it's neck

"you're a stray" you frowned

you shifted in your place and patted your lap

"c'mere"

it hurried onto your lap. licking your hand as you held your hand out to pat it's head

you loved dogs. especially fluffy ones. Hermione once got you a book on dogs and you leaned a lot about them.

so you recognised the breed as a newfoundland. and you realised it was a boy

"aren't you a cutie?" you giggled and he snuggled up to your lap.

he barked again. his paw grabbing your hand. you flipped it over and held it out to him, he whimpered, looking at the bandage covering your palm.

he looked up at you, his brown eyes were gentle

"what's wrong buddy?" you furrowed your eyebrows

he looked back to your hand and resting his head in the warmth of your palm.

he was quite small for his breed, so you knew he was a pup. he was still big for a pup but that breeds sizes are really big.

he got up and shook it's body, the snow flying of his fur. making you giggle as he panted.

he sat beside you again and barked

"what do you want buddy?" you asked it

he only barked again. you looked around you and noticed a stick underneath you bag.

"here, go fetch" you picked it up and threw it away.

he ran after it and came back to give it back, the drool coating the stick

you grimaced as you picked it up again and threw it away again.

you stood up as he ran after it again.

he came back and dropped at at your feet, smiling up at you. his tail wagging vigorously

you both played for a while until you realised it was getting dark.

"I gotta go buddy" you said, picking up your bag as looking down at him, you leaned down and pat his head.

"see ya buddy" you smiled before he whimpered

you shivered as you began to walk away, hearing his bark sadly

but you had to get back.

so did he

as you were out of sight, George trotted over to the big tree and hid behind it. putting his clothes back on quickly to avoid the cold.

-

the next week at Hogsmeade you found him again and you played with him the whole time.

you found a liking to the dog, and you wished you could keep him, but you can't keep a stray.

especially with the size he'll go to.

you were sitting by the black lake, looking out at the frozen water when you heard a bark. you looked over and saw buddy. which is what you decided to call him.

"hi buddy" you smiled at him, letting him drop his head to your lap

you pat his head, letting his fur tickle your fingers.

"where do you go when you're without me?" you ask him rhetorically.

"do you have a family? Friends or maybe a mate?" you questioned.

he whimpered, his tail slightly wagging

"I hear ya." you felt kind of silly talking to a dog so casually, but he was like a friend to you

"I mean, there is this one guy" you mentions and his head perked up, it was little things like that that made you believe he was really listening to you

"I tried talking to him a few weeks ago, it didn't go so well though" you sighed, looking at the small scar on your palm.

"he stabbed me, but it's fine, I forgive him, he didn't mean to- I hope" you continued, his tail stopping wagging like he was alert of something

you suddenly remembered you had to help McGonagall with something so you stood up suddenly, grabbing your things

"merlin, McGonagall is gonna be so mad" you cursed to yourself.

you quickly started running up to the castle, leaving him there by the lake, shocked.

you turned to look back to see him a little far behind you, walking behind a tree, you tilted your head and walked closer as you noticed he didn't come out the other side

your mind was probably playing tricks on you, but you wanted to make sure he was ok

when you were about to turn to the other side of the tree you bump into a tall, lanky figure. you back up and look at him weirdly

"where the hell did you come from?" you asked, shaken up by surprise

"i was sitting here, decided it was getting late" he responded quickly, seeming tense

you raised an eyebrow curiously "did you see a dog-"

"-no" he cut you off to reply shortly

you observed his figure carfully.

his hair was messy and his clothes were crinkled lightly sprinkled by brown fur, his pants looking a bit damp from the snow. you met his eyes. his gentle brown eyes.

you furrowed your eyebrows at the familiarity of them before stepping back from him.

he looked nervous and sort of weak. he looked away from you

"you should probably hurry, don't want McGonagall to be mad at you" he said.

"yeah, right, shit" you mumbled, turning away to go and run off before your feet stopped in it's tracks

"wait a minute" you said, turning around only for him to be gone.

you rolled your eyes and rushed up to the castle, deciding to bring it up next time you see him.

-

the next couple weeks you didn't see the dog or George anywhere

until you went to Hogsmeade again. you hadn't visited the town in a few weeks due to studying. so now you can see what new fills the shelves of the sweet shop and what new books there are.

you walked around the town, and sat down by a bench, pulling out a sweet from Honeydukes and re-read the blurb of your new book.

you heard a bark from behind you.

after your last encounter with the dog and George, you had a few suspicions. which is why the book you just bought was about animagi.

you put the book in your bag and looked down at the dog

"well hello there, long time no see" you smiled, patting his head

you got up and starting heading towards to woods, where you first met the dog

"wanna play fetch?" you asked him, making him wag his tail

you picked up a stick and threw it as far as you could.

it came back and looked up at you. his brown eyes begging for you to pick up and throw the stick again

but you didn't. you stood still looking at the dog with a frown on your face

and you decided to reach into your hair and take out the ribbon, taking his paw and wrapping it around his wrist. smiling at him.

"I'll see you next week bud" you said, scratching his ear, making his head lean towards your hand

you got your bag and walked away from him, going back to the castle where you waited for George to come into the common room.

-

he eventually did. he was wearing his Weasley sweater with the letter G knitted on it with brown pants on. but you noticed the bright red ribbon wrapped on his wrist

"that's a nice ribbon" you complimented him suddenly, his body froze as he looked at you

"where'd you get it?" you asked him, your lips turned up to a slight smile

"Ginny" he replied softly

you stood up and raised your eyebrows at him "really?"

he avoided your eyes. he knew you were clueing onto him.

and when he noticed the book on the arm of the couch. the word Animagi on the cover he knew you had caught him

he stood there, silent as you smiled

"how'd you figure it out?" he whispered

"Your eyes" you answered him. he went quiet again, shying away from you

"why didn't you just talk to me, you didn't have to- you know" you chuckled

"I was nervous. you wouldn't've pushed me away this way" he frowned

"you're not registered, are you?" you questioned him lowly

he shook his head

"you know what they'll do to you if people find out, right?" you blinked, worry laced in your tone

"I know. please-"

"-I won't" you cut him off. shaking your head, he let out a sigh and looked at his wrist.

"you should be careful. and am i wrong to assume Fred is one too?" you told him

he only nodded his head

"so do you wanna actually talk, not just throw a stick around and chase it?" you asked "and maybe you could actually take me to Hogsmeade, not just follow me into the woods"

"yeah, yeah that sounds good to me" he nodded vigorously

you smiled

"would you like a sweet?" you looked at the handful of candy from Honeydukes

"sure, gimme a butterscotch, Please"

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[mycheese-tasted-like-applepie]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DOING MY REQUEST!!! (I requested the Druid and Merlin.) If you can’t tell, I adore Merlin. I’m requesting another! (I’m sorry if I’m an inconvenience.) How about #228 “I’ll hurt whoever did this to you.”& #247 “I told you I was going to be waiting for you.” Let your magical imagination run wild. (If you want to ignore another Merlin/Druid request it’s fine by me. I just thank you for doing mine!😅) Keep at the magical work!🥰

Not at all! I'm so glad you liked it!💖 I hope you really enjoy this one and for giving me some creative freedom!💖😂

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An Accidental Ambush

A little impatient, you rush to Camelot to see Merlin. However, while doing so, you run into a dangerous creature.

#228 "I'll hurt whoever did this to you."

#247 “I told you I was going to be waiting for you.”

You were a Druid who lived in hiding with your fellow Druids out in hiding. Camelot's rules about magic were so strict that even your friends, who were as peaceful as could be, would be persecuted if they were found.

Your faith in Merlin trying to change the king's mind was low.

You've known the sorcerer for a while now, being that you guys are in similar situations of hiding. Merlin's always had a soft spot for the Druids, so how could he not like you. The two of you had been meeting up for a while now, having mutual pining for one another. But, as expected, this meeting had to be well executed and at the dead of night.

Neither of you could be seen, less it meant your deaths.

However, the details were so precise that Merlin had the exact time and location planned out perfectly. You would meet him there and no further. But you were impatient and growing more so the more you thought of waiting. You knew it could be dangerous, but you had to bend the rules a little to satisfy yourself.

Hopefully Merlin would understand when you showed up at his door.

You set out from your camp at sunset, making way through the dark forest with only the moon to guide you. Being a Druid, a friend of nature, you carried no weapon. Only a small field knife for practical purposes. You were solely focused on your quest to get to Camelot under the cover of night.

Unaware of the predator on your steps.

Everything happened so fast. One minute you were steady on your feet, weaving under branch and climbing over roots, and the next minute you were flat on your stomach with a piercing pain and heavy weight on your back.

You were never quicker than when it came to whipping out your tiny knife and whipping it at your assailant.

A sharp hissing whine sounded when you made contact with something. It lifted its foot, allowing you to roll out of the way and get on your feet despite the burning pain on your back. Your eyes made out the shape of something big, something with teeth, and something with the intent to kill you. You squinted at the beast, trying to identify it.

It was a bipedal reptilian with strong muscular legs that were armed with claws. Its two smaller arms seemed easily maneuverable and were also armed with claws. The beast had a wide and long rostrum filled with teeth, its canines longer than the rest. A snake-like tongue flicked out now and again as its amber eyes locked on you, pupils slitted beyond belief. You knew what it was now, seeing the neat hair-like quills that decorated the back of its head to the tip of its tail.

A male basilisk was hunting you, the bright red veins against his neck a dead giveaway. The red pulsing veins showing that he was also in season.

You whipped your knife at him a few times, but the basilisk just hissed at you, calling your bluff and advancing slightly. Suddenly, you felt a warm substance dripping down your back. Reaching behind you, you brushed your fingers against your skin and looked to see the dark red stains of blood. The basilisk sniffed the air, his tongue darting out, catching your sent. Your hesitation was his advantage, and he raised his head as a show of dominance as he snarled, leaping at you.

Faster than you could react, his jaws dug into your forearm. Blood immediately began to seep out as his razor-sharp teeth tore through flesh and hit bone. You wanted to scream but lacked the capacity to do so. The pain was too great. You did what you shouldn't have done, and that was rip your arm out of his mouth, tearing flesh away with it.

The basilisk was in a feeding frenzy, and you were too wounded to face such a predator at the peak of his power. He hissed at you, baring his teeth, signaling your end. You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes.

Then a resounding set of screeches echoed through the woods.

The male basilisk was immediately distracted by the call of a pack of nearby females. His need to mate greater than his need to feed was your salvation. As the basilisk sped off into the darkness, forgetting about you, you got up and made your way towards Camelot still, clinging onto your wounded arm as it dripped blood.

What were you going to say to Merlin?

Disoriented, you somehow managed to reach where he said he stayed without getting caught. With hope, you knocked quietly. And to your relief, it was the sorcerer who answered the door.

"Y/N? What are you doing here? This isn't when we said we'd see each other." Merlin whispered, clearly in shock from seeing you now.

"I had to see you." You said, masking the pain you held.

"I told you I was going to be waiting for you.” Merlin replied, placing a hand on your shoulder: "You didn't need to risk anything for this."

You nodded, swaying a bit as the pain was finally getting to you. Merlin took note of your sweaty, pale skin along with your shuddering frame. He may be a fool sometimes, but it didn't take him long to notice your wound.

Panic rushed through him.

"What happened?" He asked in absolute shock, grabbing your arm to better inspect the wound. Anger than coursed through his veins as he thought of you getting hurt.

"There-"

"I'll hurt whoever did this to you." His voice was so dark that you were stunned into silence. You've never heard Merlin sound so angry towards something. And to be honest, his worry to protect you made your heart flutter a bit. However, he had no person to be angry at.

"It was a basilisk, Merlin. It was just acting on instinct." You explained, even though fear coursed through your veins at the image. People acted on malice, animals relied on instinct. You couldn't help but defend the beast.

"A basilisk! Their mouths are thriving with disease! We need to get this treated right away!" Merlin whisper-shouted at you, his grip on your wrist tightening a bit in worry.

"But, it's dangerous if I stay..." You tried to tell him, already feeling a bit foolish for not waiting like he said.

"The wound could get infected. This could get more fatal than you think." Merlin explained before tugging you inside. He was quiet as he collected the necessary materials, you sitting at the table.

"Plus, you are here now. Let's not waste this time together." Merlin said with a bit of a smile. You nodded, sharing his enthusiasm as you allowed him to work on your arm.

But before that, his eyes flashed gold. And just like that, your pain was gone.

"Thank you." You said, face flustered a bit as he began to dab and apply herbs to your bite. He gave you that little Merlin grin.

"Anything for you." Merlin leaned over slightly to give you a kiss on the cheek. You blushed more, and words weren't really shared after that. However, they weren't necessary. The silence with him was comforting enough.

After you were healed enough, Merlin brought you home. In fact, he offered to meet you there from now on. It was safer for you, but you were worried about him. But Merlin brushed off your concern. He was a sorcerer after all.

Not only that, but he was a dragonlord.

And no distant cousin of the dragon, like the basilisk, would dare mess with him.

[lit-in-thy-heart]

Lancelot had been hoping for an early night of undisturbed sleep and he had, unfortunately for him, advanced enough in optimism to believe he would get it.

He was wrong.

Two hours after extinguishing the candle beside the bed and he was still awake, trying to fight a mild feeling of nausea and a relentless worry over his state in general. He took a deep breath, quelling the unease in his stomach momentarily, but it flooded his body again as soon as the exhalation ended. Sitting up slowly, so as not to exacerbate the feeling, Lancelot’s gaze flickered towards the window. The moon was high in the sky, filtering down through the diamonds in the glass, and he sharply exhaled. It was a long way until dawn.

Lancelot knew that it was probably nothing serious -- he'd been fine for the rest of the week -- but in the reflective stillness of the night it was hard to convince his brain otherwise. And that meant that he wasn't sure if how he physically felt was down to an actual ailment or the consequence of his brain screaming at him, which was making him even more worked up.

Closing his eyes, he counted slowly to ten to gather his strength before drawing back the sheets and stepping out of bed. Loath as he was to request any kind of help, he knew that if he remained where he was then he was guaranteed a terrible night's sleep. Merlin had not joined him, as promised, which meant they were doing something they considered more important than sleeping and, making a mental note to berate them for it in the morning, Lancelot slipped from his chambers and turned in the opposite direction to normal.

Gwaine would be fast asleep and would accidentally threaten Lancelot with a knife if he appeared uninvited, Elyan would be cocooned in a dozen blankets that created an impenetrable fortress, and Leon needed all the sleep he could get. Lancelot wouldn't dream of bothering Gwen -- besides it would take a significant store of energy to trek down to the lower town after curfew -- and Arthur was out of the question. Which left one person.

When Lancelot entered his friend's chambers after knocking, Percival was still undressing from patrol. A single candle was flickering in the window, casting skeletal fingers across his bare chest in shadows, and it illuminated his smile as he glanced at Lancelot, pulling on a pair of loose breeches.

'You alright, Lance?'

Lancelot leaned against the wardrobe for support. 'Couldn't sleep. How was patrol?'

'Quiet. A couple of chickens running around, but that was all.' Percival approached, smile contorting into a frown. 'How come you can't sleep?'

'Just feel nauseous and a little faint. It's not that bad, I'm just...worrying that it is.' Lancelot rubbed his face. It had been ridiculous to bother Percival over this, especially when a small part of him knew it would probably be a fleeting thing and nothing to worry about. 'I'll be fine. Sorry to bother you, I'll just try and head back to bed.'

He went to move towards the door before Percival caught his wrist. 'No, no, it's alright. You can stay here, come on.' Taking his hand, Percival led Lancelot towards the bed and helped him on it, wrapping his arms around Lancelot’s body and stroking his forehead with one hand. 'If you're worrying about it, it's better to have someone to talk to than to spiral by yourself.'

'There's nothing to talk about, really,' Lancelot said. 'It's stupid, but I just thought company might help muffle my brain.' He closed his eyes, sinking into Percival’s body. 'Also you give excellent hugs.'

'I should think so,' replied Percival, voice warm. 'It will be alright though. I'm sure it's not going to be anything serious.'

'I know. Thank you.' Lancelot focused on the rhythm of Percival’s fingertips scudding across his forehead, rather than the screaming thoughts in his mind. 'Tell me about the chickens.'

[twoidiotwriters1]

June, 1976 (WITT One-Shot)

A/N: If you want to remain in the taglist pls interact with this one-shot even if you haven’t read book 4-5 yet. A like or a comment is fine, the people who don’t want to continue reading obvsly do not interact and I’ll delete from the taglist :) -Danny

Words: 2,590

Series’ Masterlist

Emily was tired, but she'd spent all day overthinking and she was done, it was time to grow up.

She could hear Lily Evans' voice ushering Severus Snape away, he'd been coming around for several hours during the day trying to apologize, but he'd finally crossed a line.

"It's not your fault, you know?"

Matthew's voice caught her attention, he'd stopped at the foot of the stairs, one hand propped on the wall.

"Snape and Evans have been fighting for months now, I think it's because of what he's been doing with the Slytherins... you know, the cult stuff."

Emily averted her gaze to the fireplace.

"I know..."

Matthew hesitated, he'd promised himself that he wouldn't go back to being Emily's therapist, but something was different this time, it wasn't her usual kind of sulking.

"Are you okay?"

She looked at him over her shoulder and frowned.

"I'm not the one who got called 'mudblood' by a close friend."

"No, you weren't," He admitted. "Which is why it's so strange to see you all sad."

"I'm not sad."

"Is this about James?"

He didn't want to know, but alas, he'd asked.

"No," She made a face. "I don't think I care about him that way anymore."

"It's easier said than done," Matthew crossed his arms, his shoulder now leaning on the archway of the stairs.

"What do you want, Ruddy?" Emily groaned.

"I don't want anything from you," The boy replied. "But I have the feeling that you need to talk."

"I do," She said. "Not with you, though."

Matt nodded, he sighed.

"Good luck, then, have a good night."

"'Night."

Emily watched him disappear up the stairs, she didn't know why, but the memory of his burning gaze before he kissed her came back then, his intense determination as he held her closer... That moment Emily had found herself unable to move away, to say no. She wished she had his courage to just do stuff even when he was intimidated by them, she needed that kind of bravery tonight.

Lily Evans entered the tower two minutes later, Emily stood up abruptly and the redhead came to a halt.

For a moment none of them spoke, then Lily's face showed tons of fatigue.

"What now? Is it your turn to call me a stuck-up bore because I didn't agree to go out with Potter?"

Emily shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Can we talk?" She asked shyly. "I promise it's not a trick... I'm sorry."

Emily's behaviour towards her was usually hostile, tonight her voice was gentle, and even a little afraid.

"You're sorry?"

"I don't expect you to believe me," Emily continued, lowering her gaze. "I know you and Snape were close — I don't understand how can you like him... listen I suck at apologies, can't you just say it's alright so we can go to bed?"

Lily crossed her arms, standing straighter.

"No, I think I want you to try harder."

Emily groaned, she sat down heavily and started to think her words carefully, Lily inched closer.

"Boys can be cruel when they're not thinking — Anyone, really... I've been brutal myself — Matthew and I almost stopped being friends a few months ago, because I don't like talking about my feelings," She laughed dryly. "I don't know what is it about today that it just... I don't want to be a tormentor my whole life, let alone to someone who is... tolerable. I'm sorry for making your life a living hell these past few years."

Lily sat down, although she kept the seat between them empty to keep some distance.

"You didn't make my life a living hell," She replied. "I... can admit you're a bit clever... even likeable — that last match when you threw Lewis a bludger after he called you a midget... it was kind of funny."

"The boys walked me everywhere that week, they thought Ernest was going to try and get back at me," Emily bit her lip, but she was now smiling. "I mean, I lived in fear for days! Thinking he would spike my drink at some point with poison or something... Until Matthew cornered him outside D.A.D.A. class one day, poor Lewis... he looked so small in comparison..."

"Anyone looks small next to Matthew, he's a giant," Lily grinned. "Well, if it's any consolation, I was planning on murdering you in a much classier manner than poison, but since you've apologized, I guess I won't have to kill you after all."

Emily snorted, her eyes lingered on Lily, who looked like she'd been crying for most of the day, and yet still had enough energy to sit down and talk with the girl she'd detested for the last four years.

"Why are you being nice?" She asked in annoyance. "I mean I'm glad you're kind of accepting my apology, but I thought you'd be a bit colder, walking away before I could even finish..."

"What kind of person do you think I am?" Lily raised a brow, with the orange light coming from the fireplace her green eyes looked far more intense than usual. "If I'm honest, you should thank Remus... he's tried to convince me that you lot are far better than you look..."

Emily sighed, when she was young she'd do mischief for fun, but now that she was older, and considering all the weird stuff that was happening outside the school, she was starting to think that maybe her group of friends were indeed changing for the best.

"I'm going to be honest with you too, Evans," The girl took a deep breath. "Being the only girl in my friend group is turning out to be pure torture. I'm in desperate need of a girlfriend."

Lily's mouth twitched a bit, but she didn't laugh.

"What makes you think I want to be your friend?"

"Oh, I don't think you want to," She raised a brow. "But maybe if we're on good terms I'd be able to ask you for a tampon without having to swallow my pride first."

Lily did laugh at this, she shook her head. "Holy Merlin, Sultens, you're loopy."

"You would be too if you were seated next to Sirius every day!" She paused. "So... are you willing to make peace?"

Lily examined her carefully, four long years of quarrels sat between them, but a lifetime of friendship could be ahead if Emily was truly sorry. She was a nice girl, and really smart too, she was annoying only when she was taunting Severus, and he was no longer her friend.

Lily stretched out her hand.

"Very well, but if you go back the deal is over and we'll be less than strangers, understood?"

"Sure."

She retreated her hand before Emily could grab it.

"Hang on — this is not Potter's idea, right? You're not trying to be my friend just so I date him later?"

"Lily, if anything I hope you and James never date," Emily snickered. "Nothing personal, you're just way too good for him."

"...Alright."

They shook hands, she'd meant what she said about it not being personal. James was a boy, a very silly one at that, and even though they were really close friends, Emily was no longer a blind supporter of his doings.

Funnily enough, this seemed to be related to Matthew, she couldn't stop thinking about that kiss! Merlin, he was a good kisser...

She shook the thought away, now was not the time for nonsense.

"I'm very honoured to be your acquaintance, Evans," Emily grinned.

"Call me Lily. Only Professors call me Evans... and Potter, but you know I hate that."

"Got it, Lils."

July 1996

"...I don't think this is right," Mel tilted her head. "Brownies are mean to be brown... not pitch-black."

"You burned them," Harry was standing behind them with his arms crossed, clearly upset.

"How could you burn them, Erick? They were in there for five minutes!"

"Are you sure..." Erick stabbed the mixture with a knife and made a face. "Ugh — they're still liquid in the middle!"

"How the fuck did you do this?"

"I thought it would work just the same if I doubled the heat and put less time," Erick sulked. "Ovens are weird."

"This is why we told you to stay out of it," Harry replied. "You don't know how muggle stuff work."

"I do know!"

"Then why did you burn the brownies?"

"Don't fight," Mel intervened, grabbing the platter and throwing its contents away. "Oh well, at least we ruined my birthday cake and not someone else's..."

"That's not okay," Harry frowned. "You should have a proper cake."

Mel looked at him and grinned. "I'll eat yours, then."

"How's everything going in here?" Emily walked in, behind her Lupin followed.

"Uncle Lu!" Mel rushed over to his side and hugged him, the man chuckled. "You came!"

"Well, hadn't been around for your birthday in a long time, I thought you'd like it," He said, lovingly patting her back.

"I do," She beamed. "We kind of ruined the cake, though, so we should buy doughnuts or something."

"It's a good thing I brought this, then," Lupin lifted his bag and placed it on the table, inside there was a beautifully adorned red velvet cake.

"You just saved my birthday!"

Harry and Erick shared a moody expression and grumbled complaints, Lupin laughed.

"The kids insisted on doing the cakes this year," Emily explained. "I told them it was not an easy job, but they insisted."

"Mel and I have done this before, Erick was the one who wanted to be in charge when he can't even make tea without magic," Harry glared at him.

"Muggles stuff are too complicated, alright?" He huffed.

"I don't mind," Mel said without paying attention to them, she was still beyond happy with her uncle's presence. "I wanted to give my mum a break, Leggie's been a bit hard to handle lately..."

"Is he?" Lupin looked at the little boy Emily was holding. "Is he ill?"

"No, he just cries a lot," The woman sighed. "Wakes us up every night."

"I thought that forcing my mother to bake when she's clearly too tired to be doing anything apart from feeding a baby was a crime," Mel stated. "So I took care of it."

"Then Flint messed it up," Harry taunted.

"And then you fixed it, Uncle Moony," The girl smiled. "So there's no harm done, right boys?"

She looked over her shoulder, raising a brow as if urging them to stop bickering before they embarrassed her in front of Lupin. Both mumbled their agreement, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Lovely," Mel looked back at the adults. "Who wants lunch?"

Mel and Erick were in the kitchen talking in hurried whispers, she appeared to be upset, the young man too. Emily and Remus were in the drawing-room, Harry was upstairs changing Reg's diaper.

"Do you know why they're arguing?" Remus asked, staring at the pair.

"Dumbledore came by this morning before breakfast," Emily sighed, leaning her head back on the couch. "Talked about this mission he had for Erick — you know how eager to help that boy is... so of course the old man came and put his offer on a silver platter, and Mel won't let Erick go on his own, so being the generous soul Dumbledore is," She said sarcastically, "He said she could go too if she wanted to."

"Really?" Remus frowned. "Well... he's been giving her lessons for years, Mily, perhaps he knows she can handle it."

"I don't care," She said bluntly. "That's my daughter, my daughter. Matt's daughter. How can he continue to risk my family's life like it's nothing?"

"You know Matthew did all he that because he wanted to, Dumbledore had nothing to do with his decisions."

"I know," Emily took a deep breath. "But he's got a lot to do with Mel's... she idolizes him."

"You think so?" The man looked over his shoulder again, staring at his goddaughter.

"I don't see why else she'd be so keen to follow his orders..."

"Maybe because she feels guilty?" Remus offered. "After what happened in the ministry..."

Emily pressed her lips together, she didn't want to talk about that.

"That's not her fault and she knows it. I told her it wasn't."

"You weren't there," He said gravely. "She went out of control. I had never seen anything like it, her magic was dark— I mean that literally. All the spells she did came out pitch-black. Dumbledore was the only one who could put a stop to it."

Emily's eyes grew worried, she looked over her shoulder as well and her gaze landed on Mel.

"You think it could be the same thing that Ariana Dumbledore had? That disease?"

"No one knows what happened to her," Remus said. "Not even Matthew knew, and he was part of the family... but it could be. Maybe Dumbledore knows something we don't, maybe this will help her... perhaps she needs this."

Emily stayed silent for a moment, then she groaned.

"I hate that we're always meant to trust him blindly."

"He's lived a hundred years, he might be wiser than all of us, don't you think?"

The woman scoffed, she looked ahead, deep in thought.

"A hundred years... Matthew couldn't even make it to twenty-one! James and Lily barely did... Sirius spent twelve years in Azkaban — But at least we all knew how the war looked like then, Remus. We fought for years... my daughter just turned sixteen, she still goes to school!"

"And yet she's already done her fair amount of fighting," The man raised a brow. "We didn't have the experiences she's gone through when we were her age. I stand with Dumbledore, she can do this."

"I'm not saying she can't," Emily grabbed the empty plates to take them to the kitchen. "I'm saying she shouldn't have to sacrifice her youth. Dumbledore asks for too much, I'm sure he's got someone else that could help him with the mission, but he's obsessed with making Mel his perfect copy."

Remus didn't try to argue back, little could convince Emily at this point, she'd never been a fan of Dumbledore, and after Matt's death it was no secret that she openly disliked him, but she still followed his orders, because she knew Dumbledore was the only chance they had to win this war.

Mel and Erick entered the room, neither of them angry, which made Remus think they had reached an agreement.

"I should leave," The man stood up. "Leon's been quiet, maybe Harry managed to make him sleep."

"Or maybe he's just playing with him," Emily stood up as well. "Really, I never thought Harry would get so attached to a baby..."

"I'll miss you, Uncle Lu, I hope to see you soon," Mel said, her eyes avoiding to look into Erick's direction.

"Me too, little Em," Remus hugged her tightly, he whispered in her ear. "Be good to your mother, alright?"

Mel looked at him with confusion, but she nodded anyway.

"So?" Emily crossed her arms. "What are you going to do?"

The young witch stared at her mother, Remus knew that expression. It was true and very strange, how she could have her dad's gaze even though her eyes were exactly like her mother's, but he knew that look, he'd seen it in Matt the last time they had spoken. Mel was done being a kid.

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @wlwmaximoff @reverse-hxlland @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee​ @thelastpyle @hamiltonwc

[lit-in-thy-heart]

hehe im glad you joined us for the hug prompts! I'll ask you for 14 - leaping hug with... mergwaine! hopefully that works for you otherwise second option for a ship would be mercelot!

thank you for the prompt!!! you will notice a theme with the other prompts (and each one that came in made me grin even more, you'll see why throughout this week) and i'll stick this under the cut because it is quite long for a prompt, i'm sorry.

hope that you enjoy it! 💖

feel free to send any other prompts

It was when Merlin’s eyes started to lose the mirth that Gwaine had suggested lightening their load with a game. Merlin had been reluctant, at first, to stray from the task at hand, but Gwaine had pointed out that they were halfway through the army’s boots and that they needed to take some sort of break before their arms cramped up.

Quite how hurling boots across the throne room alleviated the tension in their arms, Merlin wasn’t entirely sure. ‘Only with the ones we haven’t cleaned yet, right?’ he uncertainly asked Gwaine, picking up one particularly muddy boot.

Gwaine, having swung two boots over his shoulders, flicked back his hair. ‘Your choice, Merlin. We can either scuff the clean boots, or have to clean mud off the throne afterwards. Which I see as a rather appropriate metaphor.’

Frowning, Merlin turned over the boot in his hands. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, it’s always the common people cleaning the king’s image, isn’t it? Sanitising it. He’s always idolised by them, when he never deserves it.’

Mouth set in a grim line, Gwaine retreated to the back of the throne room and gripped the shaft of the boot, swinging it around his head and sending mud flying in all directions. As Merlin sheltered his head with one arm, Gwaine let go of the boot and watched with a satisfied smirk as it sailed across the room and landed firmly on the throne. The dim sunlight scattered across his face painted him in a mosaic of stained glass and Merlin’s hand faltered slightly, boot beginning to slip through his grasp.

Sparing Merlin a brief glance, Gwaine removed the second boot from his shoulder and squinted up at the balcony behind him. Merlin, catching his meaning, really did drop the boot as he held out a hand. ‘No. No way. Arthur will string both of us up, now that I’ve put that idea in his head, if you do that.’

With a shrug, Gwaine dutifully turned away. ‘I believe it’s your turn.’

Picking up the boot again, the servant adjusted his grip and moved to stand beside Gwaine and flung it towards the throne. His arms, already weary from cleaning at least fifteen boots, didn’t provide enough power and the boot crashed into the polite queue stretching across the floor, scattering them like birds after a stone had been hurled at them. Gwaine suppressed a snort.

‘In my defence, I’m usually the one getting things thrown at me,’ Merlin muttered, approaching the chaos with a small sigh.

Gwaine’s eyebrows drew together. ‘Who throws things at you?’

‘The townspeople when I’m in the stocks. Arthur. The knights, sometimes. Arthur again—’

‘Why does Arthur throw things at you?’

Merlin, his back still to Gwaine as he rummaged through the footwear to find the boot, shrugged. ‘Because he feels like it, I suppose. It’s fine. I’m used to it.’

‘And I thought you said he was different.’

‘He is different,’ Merlin replied, finding the boot and turning around. ‘It’s just that—Gwaine!’

Gwaine was clinging to the central statue,shaft of the boot between his teeth, his legs wrapped seductively around its waist as he tried to hoist himself up. There was a muffled: ‘What?’ and he twisted his head with an attempt at a grin.

‘You’re going to fall off.’

‘M’not.’

Shimmying up the statue, Gwaine reached up for the wrists of the two angels, hauling up his feet from the shoulders of the statue to the sculpted towers above, lurching unsteadily. Merlin desperately wanted to look away, but couldn’t bring himself to alter the direction of his gaze. He felt his eyes slide down Gwaine’s body and rest on his very prominent arse as he squatted momentarily and, catching himself, Merlin pushed his stare to what seemed to be the safe region of Gwaine’s shoulders.

Then Gwaine moved and the muscles in his shoulders bulged beneath his shirt. Merlin could feel the heat rising in his neck. As Gwaine’s foot slipped, Merlin darted towards the statue, hand outstretched to intervene if necessary. Regaining his footing, Gwaine’s hands caught the railings of the balcony and he tumbled over the top, landing with a muffled thump.

‘Arthur is actually going to kill me.’

Leaning over the balcony, Gwaine removed the boot and spat out flakes of mud with a look of disgust. ‘I’ll protect you, Merlin, don’t worry,’ he said, taking a knife from his boot and throwing it in the air with a grin.

It catapulted through the air and embedded itself in the floorboards only inches from Merlin, who had watched its progress with an ever-increasing sense of doom. ‘You saying that fills me with feelings of safety, Gwaine,’ Merlin drily said, folding his arms. ‘There’s no way that you’re going to be able to get that boot to hit the mark.’

‘Not without you up here for moral support.’

Merlin took one look at him, bathed in sunlight, and sighed heavily. Wordlessly, he pushed through one of the doors leading to a narrow staircase – why Gwaine hadn’t elected that route, Merlin was none the wiser – and ascended them two steps at a time, emerging onto the balcony. When Gwaine turned, his head was haloed by the rich woven threads of his hair, face illuminated by his smile. With a wink, he backed up as much as he could, took three decisive strides, and launched the boot over the railings. It curled in on itself as it sliced through the air in a graceful arc, mud spraying the floor like droplets of water from a salmon leaping upstream. It landed in the centre of the throne with a shudder from the sudden breeze it had created.

When Merlin looked towards Gwaine, his eyes travelled down to the exposed skin of his chest as he leaned over the railings and hastily drew his gaze to Gwaine’s smile. ‘See? Having you near me makes all the difference. Now, your turn.’

Merlin raised his eyebrows. ‘If I couldn’t do it down there, what on earth makes you think I could achieve what you just did?’

Levering himself from the railings, Gwaine stood in front of him, hands firmly on his shoulders. ‘Believe in yourself a little, Merlin. Anyway, being higher up actually makes it easier.’

Still unconvinced, Merlin gripped the shaft of the boot a little tighter. He cast one more look at Gwaine to give him the strength to aim as his friend moved away to give him space. Drawing his arm back, Merlin focused his gaze on the stern throne, pictured Arthur’s face when he’d said about there being no downside to Merlin being strung up, and hurled the shoe with all his remaining energy.

It shot through the air, collided with the top of the throne and dropped down on top of Gwaine’s.

In one smooth motion, Gwaine had launched himself at Merlin, hugging him in the same manner he’d embraced the statue. Merlin, thankful that he was steady on his feet for once, laughed into Gwaine’s neck and put one arm beneath his thighs to support him. There was the faintest scent of pickled eggs buried in the depths of Gwaine’s hair but Merlin didn’t mind it as much as he would have thought. There was a murmured phrase of congratulations breathed into the echoing crevice between his neck and neckerchief and both parties were vaguely aware that the appropriate time had elapsed for physical contact, but neither moved to detach themselves.

As Merlin marvelled at how much lighter Gwaine was than he’d expected, Gwaine was busy wondering if it would be possible to push down Merlin’s trousers with his legs and believably claim it was an accident. He wasn’t quite sure what had possessed him to launch himself at Merlin, though perhaps it had been prompted by the smile of disbelief that had spread across his mouth like the dawn when the boot had hit its target. And if this was the first victory that Merlin had secured in a short while, then Gwaine had thought that it deserved to be honoured properly.

Adjusting his grip so his hands fell to Merlin’s shoulders, Gwaine inhaled the delicate aroma of cinnamon that had folded itself in Merlin’s clothes. Perhaps he could be happy here, in Merlin’s arms. If Merlin didn’t get tired of him, that was. Beneath his body, Merlin shifted, other arm skimming Gwaine’s thighs. His head was still turned towards Gwaine’s neck, their cheeks grazing gently against each other, and Gwaine resisted the urge to nip at the skin covering the top of Merlin’s spine. One collision at a time. He was just about to try and push down Merlin’s trousers – because that wasn’t a collision, that was simply testing the waters – when the door below them crashed open and Merlin dropped his arms, startled.

Gwaine’s legs dropped with them and he slipped down, dangling from Merlin’s neck with his feet several inches above the ground. Tentatively, Merlin leaned forward to peer over the balcony and Gwaine swung with him, eyes moving with a growing sense of dread to the disrupted line of boots. Arthur was stood in the centre of the room, arms folded, with a stony expression sketched across his face.

‘One of you had better have a very good explanation for why exactly you are up there.’

Merlin and Gwaine turned to look at each other, and Gwaine’s witty reply was lost along with his breath as he caught sight of subtle flecks of gilt in Merlin’s eyes. As he grasped for words that he no longer had, Merlin twisted his head to look back at Arthur. ‘I was giving Gwaine a tour.’

‘I’ll be giving you both a tour of the stocks if you don’t get down here instantly,’ Arthur threatened.

As Gwaine detached himself from the servant, he let his hand run discreetly across the back of Merlin’s shirt, smirking at the subtle shiver Merlin emitted. Perhaps if he stuck around, then perhaps he could see just where else Merlin could successfully aim.