#mrs weasley was BRUTAL

[postazkabansiriussupremacy]

don't know how much of this makes sense but I've been thinking about sirius at grimmauld place meeting auror reader... possibly Weasley!reader? like around Bill's age, and maybe she defends him when Molly and the rest of the order are having that discussion – him just being in awe and desperate for her and her love (maybe turns into him jerking off thinking of her) and would love to see your take on it!

pounding my fists on the fucking table THIS is the type of shit i’m TALKING ABOUT, people!!!!!! 😤🥵🥵 i LOVE the way your mind works!!!! you love to fucking see it!!!! WOOOOOO

alright i love the thought of sirius getting off to the thought of y/n…. but here’s the thing. i rewrote the first half of this fic at least four different times trying to figure out a way to incorporate y/n into the argument, but i couldn’t do it 😐😔 it always sounded too chunky or corny so i changed up your request a bit. sorry bout that chief 🫡 but anyway

“I’m sorry for what she said.” You tell Sirius quietly as everyone else files out of the kitchen. The argument between him and your mother was a bad one, and things still feel a bit tense.

Your mother is the sweetest and most caring woman you’ve ever met, but she can be quite harsh when riled up. She made several comments to Sirius that were incredibly rude and uncalled for.

“You don’t have to apologize, dear.” Sirius tells you while standing from his chair. He motions for you to walk in front of him as you go up the stairs together. It’s a polite gesture, and you’re none the wiser as he takes a few short glances at your rear.

“I know,” You sigh, whispering as to not wake up any of the portraits. “But she could’ve made her point without being so rude. It wasn’t right of her to say those things.”

“It’s alright.” Sirius lies, not wanting to say too much and accidentally insult your mother to your face. He’s always been one to hold a grudge, and this argument with Molly won’t be forgotten anytime soon.

“I get the feeling you don’t mean that.” You state as you reach the floor of your guest bedroom. “But I understand. I suppose I wouldn’t forgive her so easily either.”

Sirius looks down at you as you turn to face him. Standing together in the dimly lit hallway vaguely reminds Sirius of what it’s like to drop a date off at their door. This situation isn’t so lighthearted, but the tension feels the similar.

He tilts his head to the side and smiles, deflecting the conversation toward you. “That so? I figured you’d be the type to forgive and forget.”

You reflect his smile and shrug. “I am, but I don’t think the same is said for you.”

Sirius nods once and chuckles quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re just too sweet. Goodnight, love.”

Sirius listens and watches as you say your own ‘Goodnight’, breaking eye contact and looking away as some color lights up your cheeks. He waits until your door is closed before walking away to his own room.

After getting undressed and sliding into bed, Sirius can’t help but feel a little guilty.

It feels wrong. You’re ten years his junior, for Merlin’s sake! Sirius is probably closer in age to your parents than he is to you.

The interactions between the two of you thus far have been nothing but innocent, and yet Sirius can’t help himself. The feeling of his stiffening cock rubbing against the confines of his trousers is unbearable.

He releases himself from his pants, and slowly starts working his hands up and down his shaft. Instead of his own fist, he imagines your lips wrapped around him.

Sirius lays his head back on his pillow and closes his eyes. He remembers you, just a few moments ago as you looked up at him in the hallway: eyes wide, pupils dilated, and lips slightly parted. He can easily picture you with that same expression as you bob your head up and down his length.

Instead of his own hands working his cock, he imagines they’re tangled in your hair to help guide you and set the pace.

He pumps his cock faster, picturing you using one hand to hold the base of his shaft and the other to pleasure yourself.

Sirius wonders what kind of sound you’d make if he ‘accidentally’ held your head down too far, pushing you to take more of him than you can handle. He imagines the feeling of your throat gagging and contracting around the head of his cock, saliva dripping out of your mouth and falling onto his balls and the bedsheets.

As he gets closer to his orgasm, he quickly ponders whether or not you’d swallow; maybe you’d prefer his cum on your face or all over your breasts.

Or perhaps you’d prefer not to waste a drop. You’d flip over onto your back, begging Sirius to cum inside you.

It’s all so easy to imagine. He can already hear your sweet little gasps and moans as he sinks his cock into your sopping wet pussy, giving it a few pumps before spilling his load as deep inside as he can get.

Sirius cums with a small moan and a shudder, reality coming back to hit him as soon as his cum falls all over his hand and stomach.

[hp-hcs]

(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 6 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)

love triangle — rival! ron weasley x male! reader

solving a love triangle in the only correct (and gay) way

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Hey, Hermione,” you said with a cheeky grin, sitting across from her.

She glanced up. “Hey, Y/N..?”

“D’you wanna go to the Yule Ball with me?”

“Oh! Uh, that’s very sweet of you to offer-”

“-but I’m sure Hermione would much rather go with someone else,” interrupted the annoyance that was Ron Fucking Weasley.

You glared at him. “But of course, going to a dance with a platonic date is rather pathetic, wouldn’t you agree, Granger?”

Ron opened his mouth to snap back, when Hermione interrupted the both of them. “Boys, boys, you’re both pretty, stop fighting. I’ve already got a date.”

You turn to look at her quizzically, saying at the same time as Ron, “Who?”

“Well, if you must know, Viktor Krum.”

~~~

The Ball crept closer, Hogwarts’ halls alive with excited whispers and laughs. It seemed like everyone had a date except for you. And Ron, you supposed.

(And Ron’s friend, Harry. Although you had sneered in passing to the ginger, “looks like he’s got eyes for your sister, Weasley,” which had almost led to a fight breaking out in the halls as he hollered for you to “shut your bloody mouth!”)

((Sure enough, within the week, Harry Potter had a date to the Yule Ball—Ginny Weasley. You took great pleasure at smiling smugly at Ron whenever you saw him.))

Hermione’s rejection hadn’t deterred either of you though. Ron seemed determined to outdo you. When you gave her a tiger lily you’d picked in Herbology, Ron sent a bouquet of flowers to her dorm. When you split a Chocolate Frog with her, Ron took her to Honeydukes. Anytime you saw each other in the halls, you glared daggers sharp enough to make the paintings rattle on the walls uncomfortably. It was all-out war.

Even the teachers seemed to notice, for better or for worse.

“I’m taking your girlfriend to Flourish & Blotts this weekend, Weasley,” you whispered casually under your breath to your elbow partner in Potions.

“I swear to Merlin, L/N, I’ll-”

“Mr. Weasley, Mr. L/N, if you’d care to pay attention rather than chatter about your meaningless weekend plans,” Professor Snape drawled, glaring his beady little eyes on you both. “Ten points from Gryffindor.”

You stifled a giggle under your breath, accidentally making eye contact with Ron, whose embarrassed expression and red-tinged ears made you just absolutely lose it. You had to clamp one hand over your mouth to prevent any laughter from escaping.

Then, much to your surprise, Ron started chuckling quietly too, cheeks still flushed from the reprimand.

“Pay attention,” he drawled under his breath in a mocking imitation of Snape. You snorted, clearing your throat to disguise the noise when the Professor in question whirled around to see who dared disrupt his class.

~~~

After class, you elbowed Ron in the hall. “Man, Snape’s such a dick, right?”

“Totally. He’s got it out for me, I swear.”

“I think he’s just got it out for Gryffindors in general. Remember when he antagonized Longbottom so bad that he was his boggart?”

“Yeah, that was brutal,” Ron shook his head, as you both walked to your next class together. “Hey, look, I just wanted to say like, sorry? I’ve been kind of an ass to you this whole year…” Ron trailed off.

“Nah, it’s fine, man. I haven’t been much better. I think we both kind of got caught up in the competition of asking her out,” you shrugged. There was no reason to clarify who her was. “Truce?”

“Yeah,” Ron smiled. “I’d like that.”

~~~

So here you were, alone at the Yule Ball, your friends having left you to dance with their dates. You leaned against the wall, watching the couples twirl around with a mild tinge of jealousy. Sipping your drink, you surveyed the crowd, appraising everyone.

When your eyes landed on Hermione, who was being lifted up and spun around by Viktor Krum, your first thought was not one of envy, but rather, she would’ve looked much better in blue. Your gaze drifted to her date, and lingered on Krum for a moment too long.

Damn, he looks good, you thought to yourself, blinking quickly at the thought. Where did that come from?

Ron sidled up to you, looking rather smug for someone wearing such an ugly outfit. “She’s having the time of her life, isn’t she?”

“Huh? Oh- yeah, yeah, I guess,” you mumbled, your gaze drifting back to Viktor.

How can someone look so hot? That ought to be illegal.

Ron’s eyes narrowed, and he followed your gaze. “Merlin, dude. Are you staring at Krum?”

“What? No! S-shut up!”

He snickered, patting your shoulder patronizingly. “S’alright, man. I’ve been watching Diggory all night myself.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’re-”

“Yeah,” he cut you off, lips thinning a bit. “That bother you?”

“Not a hypocrite, Weasley.”

He glanced at you, clearly taken off guard. You kept his gaze for a long moment, finding the way his blush matched his hair to be rather cute.

“Care to dance then, L/N?”

“If you can keep up, Weasley.”

You two took to the dance floor, twirling around like idiots and laughing loudly. Neither of you noticed your respective friends, and the teacher chaperones, watching on in morbid fascination.

And when you kissed at the end of the song, neither of you noticed Harry scowling as he handed both Ginny and Hermione a galleon each.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[lorrainmorgan]

Serpent's Nest

[ 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮 𝐦𝐲 🐍 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 ]

Previous Part 4 Next Ominis x Lorrain

⚠️ Forced kiss ahead

“The metallic taste of blood still on her lips made him pull her even closer”

...She gasped as her other hand's griped hardened on Ominis's arm. It was Marvolo Gaunt, Ominis's brother. ______ 🐍 _______

Ominis' initial shock quickly gave way to a look of concern for Lorra's safety. Marvolo Gaunt, the eldest of his family, was a commanding presence. Strikingly handsome, even among the ranks of 7th year students, with an intimidating stare in his piercing eyes,his tall and muscular frame seemed to exude power and strength. Pitch black hair, perfectly styled, fell in two laces across his forehead, adding to his mysterious allure.

Marvolo's voice dripped with venom as he towered over Ominis, his hands clenched into fists of rage. His dark eyes glinted with malice as he spoke:

 "So you've been with this mudblood all night, brother? Have you taken her yet?" He sneered, grabbing Lorrain by her wrist even harder and squeezing it until tears welled up in her eyes. "Wait until father hears about this, another disgrace to our family. Just like you always have been." 

Lorrain struggled against Marvolo's grip, her fear turned into anger as she realized the depth of his hatred for her kind.

Ominis' heart stopped as soon as he heard the noise of the girl’s hand cross his brother’s face with a loud SLAP. Blood dripped from his nose as he stumbled backwards, shocked by her brutality. 

"So this is who you chose over me, Mrs. Morgana? A pathetic broken man who can't even see and you DARE to hit me?" Marvolo sneered in jealousy, his eyes glinting with malice. 

A sinister chuckle escaped from Marvolo's lips, sending shivers down Lorrain's spine. She was yanked behind him and devoured by his ferocious kiss, just out of his blind brother's grasp. Ominis' blood turned to ice as he sensed the girl being abducted and forced into his brother’s lips. With a roar, Lorrain fought back against her captor and let out a piercing cry for help that felt like a dagger to Ominis' heart.

His wand slashed through the air, casting Levicorpus upon his brother, causing him to be suspended in the air by his ankle. The sudden interruption halts Marvolo's attack on the girl. She then quickly darted to safety beside the blonde wizard. 

Marvolo's body contorted and writhed with an otherworldly force, breaking free and lying on his feet, like a panther whose prey lies in front of his eyes. 

Ominis took a step forward shielding Lorra with his body and kept his wand ready and steady. He had only ever seen his brother show that level of physical aggression towards him when they were younger. 

Marvolo's eyes glinted with malice as he brandished his wand, the tip crackling with a bright green energy, ready to unleash the torturous curse upon the girl. Lorrain's heart raced in fear as she realized what was about to happen. C

R

U

C

- Ominis reacted instinctively. He thrust his wand forward and unleashed Stupefy, hitting Marvolo square in the mouth with intense force. The impact sent him sprawling to the ground, blood pouring from his lips as he writhed in pain and cursed his younger brother. 

Professor Matilda Weasley bursted into the dungeons, almost flying down the stairwell yelling at the top of her lungs:  “WHAT ON MERLIN’S NAME IS HAPPENING HERE?”

Lorrain let out a cry that drowned in Ominis's chest as he held her, while he explained everything to the Professor. After hearing what had happened, Matilda sighed and looked at Marvolo, still on the floor with a bloody lip. 

The teacher's sharp voice cut through the tense silence in the corridor.

"Do you have anything to add to this story, young man?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing dangerously. 

Marvolo, as clever and quick minded as any other Gaunt, - or a serpent for any matter-, came up with an incredibly believable story. He elegantly stood up, fixed his pitch black hair and walked over to the entrance of the Slytherin Common Room, right next to Lorra whispering menacingly. "Next time, Crucio won't be the only curse I'll use on you, Mudblood." Her eyes blazed with fury and she held her breath, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear; then he just disappeared in the darkness of the gloomy entrance. 

"Now listen up, you two," Professor Weasley's voice was stern and commanding. "Get yourselves into bed and stay there… And Mrs. Morgana," she turned to Lorra with a hard gaze, "I suggest you think long and hard before associating yourself with wizards who share the same 'characteristics' as Mr Marvolo Gaunt. Do I make myself crystal clear?". 

Her warning felt like a cold slap to Ominis, he felt invisible, unnoticed, non-existent.

With a warm and gentle gesture, Weasley put her hand on the boy’s shoulder and replied to the boy’s reaction “ I hope you know what you are getting yourself into, young Gaunt. It may seem hard to start new beginnings, but not impossible, with the right company” c.ai

Ominis went silent upon hearing Matilda’s words. He then nodded, feeling better by the acknowledgement of him being different and oceans apart from his family beliefs and behavior. 

They waited for the Professor to leave the dungeons and finally entered their House’s Common Room. Lorrain, holding to Ominis’ arm sarcastically whisper “Charming relative you have indeed”.

Ominis laughed slightly, though it was very clear that his amusement was only a cover up for the mix of emotions he was retaining in his stomach. 

“Thank you for defending me from your brother, Om” Lorrain gasped, trying to catch her breath.“If I in any way caused you trouble, please-” Her voice faltered, unable to finish the sentence.

"Do not say it." The blonde wizard interrupted her, his grip on her tightening possessively. "I would never turn my back on you. You are mine now, but before anything and everything, you are my friend."

Lorrain's heart swelled at his words, feeling an unfamiliar sense of safety and protection in his possessive nature.

As they walked together into the center of the dark room,the eyes of many Slytherin students stabbed them in disbelief. Ominis was holding Lorrain tightly, tears staining her cheeks and traces of blood still lingered on her lips and robe…That was not a good picture.

The whispers and murmurs grew louder as students speculated what had happened between them. Had he hurt her? Have they been dueling? Had he tried to…?

Their footsteps thunder through the room, drowning out any echoes as they march towards the girls' dorm. Ominis lowered his wand, with a smooth movement, he opened the door and shut it behind her, leaving him alone with the enraged voices outside.

A third year boy named Thomas Simmon, confronted the blind wizard with a scathing accusation as he went down the large staircase. 

"Not so tough now, blind boy?" Thomas sneered. "Why don't you tell us what you did to Lorrain? What has she ever done to you, Gaunt?"

His porcelain eyes pierced Thomas' essence like two beautiful silver bullets. Ominis protested and defended himself, not blaming his brother - just yet- but it was no use. The crowd had turned on him, their voices rising in a cacophony of anger and hatred.

After a few seconds, Sebastian Sallow burst into the Common Room and shut everybody up in an instant. Peeves was with him. For once that damned poltergeist was of good use!  

“Naaaahaaaaa. The blondie blindy boy didn't do it! 

I’m teeeeelling, I’m teeeeelling, eenie minie miney moee, your brother really wants her gone.

Sebi Sebs almost peed himself when Peeves told him, HE -Peeves started mirroring Marvolo- was gonna tickle her with crustaceans!... no wait… what was the name.. CRUCIOO! eeehhehehehe” Peeves accused him while laughing.

The eldest Gaunt was sitting right across the room, grimacing slightly, leaving no trace of the smile he had just a few seconds ago. The crowd parted silently in half to face the accused student, turning the room’s air heavy and suffocating. 

Right after, Lorrain emerged from her room, her face streaked with tears and a red nose, while her friends rushed to comfort her. She marched straight towards the blind heir of Slytherin, putting herself now as a shield from all prying eyes. 

With trembling hands but a firm voice, she confronted her attacker. "Ominis didn't do it," she declared boldly to the room. "HE did. He assaulted me and attempted to cast the Unforgivable Curse on me." Her finger was slightly shaking as she pointed at the boy. 

Two accusations in less than a minute.

Slytherin’s Prefect, a tall brunette girl named Agnes Reed heard it all. It was an older version of Imelda… but way worse. She gave Marvolo a glance of disapproval. He stood up from the silked Victorian chair and began his walk of shame thru the common room, heading towards the exit. Agnes held out her wand -for safety- as she followed him, probably to Professor Black’s office.  

Before he exited the Common Room, he paused and turned around looking down at Ominis from the staircase, he then hissed in Parseltongue “You’ll pa-ay for thiss-ss, blin-nd bas-sstard”. 

Ominis slammed his eyes shut wincing in anguish as for He knew very well Marvolo wouldn’t leave things like this. Lorrain's grip tightened on his hand, her concerned gaze searched his face for any signs of distress without luck. 

Everyone around them whispered and stared loudly, filling the room with rumors surrounding the infamous Gaunt family.

With a flick of his wand, Ominis made his way through the crowd to the same luxurious furniture his brother sat upon, surrounded by the remnants of gossips of his latest dramatic performance. He settled onto the dark green silk cushions with a calmness that belied the turmoil within him, making the same stance as his previous owner, as all the Gaunts did: Legs elegantly crossed, head resting on their left palm in a contemplative pose, with an intense glint in his unseeing eyes, while he surveyed his conquered domain.

Sebastian joined him. He squeezed his shoulder, a silent assurance that he would always be there for him, no matter what. As they stood together, their presence seemed to ease the tension in the room little by little. 

Sebastian couldn't help but notice the subtle glances and snide remarks from Lorra's friends. He knew how much these comments hurt, despite Ominis' attempts to brush them off. The rage grew inside Sebastian as he watched his friend endure this pain yet again.

“Let them talk, Sebastian. I can feel your pulse boiling even without my wand”. Ominis indicated calmly.

______ 🐍 _______

Lorrain's presence was like a calming balm, radiating from her fingertips as she took each and every one of her friend's hands in hers. With just a look and a touch, she had the power to soothe even the most anxious souls. It was no surprise that everyone adored her, drawn to her magnetic charm like moths to a flame. 

She turned to Ominis, sitting by the crackling fire in a grand imponent wooden chair. His white blind eyes seemed to be fixed on her, sending pulses of electricity through her veins. No, this wasn't the effect of any love potion. There was something about Ominis that she couldn't quite put her finger on just yet. She smiled at him. 

Every inch of Ominis's attention was locked at her direction. He sat there and watched her as she went and talked to everyone. The way she seemed to comfort people with just a glance was a wonderful thing to witness. His grip tightened as she started to talk about him, though it wasn't in worry or anger. No, it was in affection. One of pure adoration, and nothing else.

Thomas, the third year student who had bravely accused the young Gaunt before, stood in silence at his other side, his voice low and menacing finally cut the silence:

"If you dare lay a hand on her, or if I hear she's suffering because of your actions…" he began, but was abruptly cut off. The red light flickering from Ominis’s wand illuminated the freckles on this boy’s face. With an air of superiority he sneered "I would never let her suffer. You should know my intentions with her already, tho is none of your business now, is it?..." His words were laced with a chilling threat.

"Get lost, prick," Sebastian growled, stepping closer to Ominis in a show of support.

Thomas patted Ominis' shoulder twice in a show of trust and belief. With one last steely look at Lorrain, he turned and walked away.

As everyone else dispersed to their dorms, Lorrain slowly approached Ominis. Her eyes gleamed with curiosity.

Without warning, Ominis lunged forward and crushed her against his body. His lips collapsed onto hers with a desperate hunger, silencing any words she was about to say. The metallic taste of blood still on her lips made him pull her even closer, to the point she was almost gasping for air. 

"Alllllllright," Sebastian stammered suddenly, feeling like an intruder in the intense chemistry between them. "I'll leave you two alone...maybe tomorrow? Or forever?" He said sarcastically as he retreated to his room, shaking his head at the undeniable passion radiating from his friends. 

"Get a room!" he finally shouted from his bedroom door, unable to take it any longer. "There are plenty here for you to choose from!" he finished as he shut the door, leaving Lorrain and Ominis alone in their passionate embrace.

______ 🐍 _______

Random Notes:

👥I really want to explote a more friendly side of Sebastian. As how he protects his best friend... I'm still exploring more options about it ❤️‍🔥I'm obsessed with protective Ominis❤️‍🔥

[saintsenara]

as we gear up for the next round of @ladiesofhpfest, the first week of which begins tomorrow, i'm having a self-indulgent saturday-night promote of the pieces i wrote for the 2023 edition of the fest...

you can find the ao3 collection here - featuring seventy-five amazing [and completed!] female-character-centric stories and artworks - and, if the inspiration strikes you, you can find the schedule for this year's fest here.

chewing gum

remus lupin/nymphadora tonks teen | 2.1k words an auror walks into a bar and misses a werewolf.

the velveteen rabbit

mrs cole & tom riddle general | 3.2k words a boy has scarlet fever and wants his mother. he gets mrs cole instead.

five motets for a time of mourning

minerva mcgonagall & severus snape general | 6.5k words five snapshots from hogwarts castle, in that dreadful year when snape was headmaster.

the scrunchie

minor characters general | 4.5k words nobody would have let hermione granger borrow the scrunchie. but that's fine, because this story isn't about her at all.

the shack at the end of the lane

merope gaunt & lord voldemort general | 4.2k words it was an unconventional choice, on the part of the universe, to make tom riddle's victims meet his mother the moment they arrived in the afterlife.

death (eaters) in paradise

bellatrix lestrange/lord voldemort mature | 7.3k words a spanish anti-muggle group wishes to meet with the dark lord in marbella. so, it makes perfect sense for his favourite lieutenant to go with him. after all, she could do with a holiday.

leather

nymphadora tonks/various explicit | 2.9k words war looms and tonks goes on a journey.

atramentum

bellatrix lestrange/lord voldemort teen | 1.9k words two lovers pass a halloween afternoon.

bookbinding

tom riddle/myrtle warren teen | 35.5k words which will win: sixteen years of planning for brutal world domination, or one (1) teenage girl?

everlasting ink

delphini riddle & ginny weasley teen | 6.2k words ginny weasley has always been a magnet for dark-haired orphans. what's one more?

inhuman resources

dolores umbridge teen | 4.2k words speaking from the fire in the gryffindor common room, sirius black will assure his godson that dolores umbridge is definitely not a death eater. how does he know? well, he's seen the paper trail...

catmint

minerva mcgonagall & pomona sprout teen | 1.6k words the day after the war ends, grief is green.

the pleiades

bellatrix lestrange/lord voldemort teen | 2.6k words bellatrix learns to fly.

sparkling cyanide

hokey & hepzibah smith general | 1.4k words tom riddle had nothing to do with the death of hepzibah smith. hokey had just had enough of being a slave.

bó na leath adhairce

merope gaunt teen | 6.6k words a coming of age story for an invisible girl.

ecclesiastes three

andromeda tonks & bellatrix lestrange & narcissa malfoy teen | 9.4k words to sisterhood there is a season.

[nightowl70]

(An old writing about how Severus felt over JKR apologizing for his death.)

Fri 05 May 2017 10:05:22 PM EDT

Concerning the Apology

JKR was asleep when something woke her suddenly. She didn't know what it was that woke her, but she had that feeling that she needed to go to her study. Her husband and children were in deep sleep as she checked on them all. Quietly making her way to her study she felt her stomach tighten and knew who she would find. She sighed softly as she went in and closed the door behind her. Taking a few deep breaths, she held her head high and turned to her desk.

Standing there before her desk was Severus Snape with his arms folded. He had turned on a lamp as he awaited her. She was many years older since his last visit ten years prior but he was still the same with black hair just past his shoulders and with a scowl upon his face. "Hello Severus." She managed to greet her old nemesis by name. "I suppose you have heard that I apologised for killing you off in the books?" She stood watching him.

His scowl turned into a sneer, 'Oh yes, I have seen and heard your pathetic words concerning my death.' Severus moved closer to the woman. 'Still weak aren't you? Whispering and running? I am more impressed with those that hate my guts. At least they don't back down from their views. You on the other hand Rowling, were too weak to stand by your position.'

JKR stood there agape looking at him. The man had a switchblade tongue and knew just how to infuriate her the most. "I have made it a point to apologise for deaths each year as the anniversary happens and this year, I decided to apologise for your death."

'Tell me, does it ease your conscience or is it just to keep your name in the news?' His black eyes bored into her as he waited for her response.

Sputtering, she had no answer. Damn the man! She could not think of a retort so she remained silent.

He started prowling around her, 'Ah, lost your nerve, woman? The only thing you want now is to remain in the public eye and you will say or do whatever it takes to make sure the world still sees your name.' He was practically hissing in her ear.

Gasping, "How dare you?! I don't need to remain in the public eye! I do this for my fans! But you can't understand that can you?" Blast the man!

Smirking at her, 'Believe it or not Rowling, I have my fan base that I do appreciate. However, it seems that yours keep falling away due to the things you keep saying and doing. I saw you trying to pass Mrs Weasley off as a person of colour and before this, you decided that you should not have paired them together. My, my are you planning to rewrite the entire series now? I have told you that the magic is gone from you and you desperately try to hold to what is long gone. You would be well served to let it go. Enough of these so called apologies. They are only empty words at this point.' He was whispering these words against her left ear and he could feel her anger rise.

Lifting her hands to his chest, she shoved him away from her. "Leave me be! I can do what I want!" She was nearly screaming at him and realized that he made her feel like a child that was nothing but a failure. "Get out of my house!" She was trying to get out of the room.

Regaining his balance after being shoved away from her, he lashed out and grabbed her arm and slammed her against the door. The wind was knocked out of her. Holding her upper arms, he snarled down at her, 'It is time that you learned that you are nobody important! Fame is not everything and eventually you will be forgotten.' He released her and then snidely asked, 'Now, shall I apologise for my cutting remarks to you? Tell me, would my apologies make a difference?' He grabs her wrist and pulls her away from the door and opens it to walk out.

Trying to regain her breath she glares at him, "I know what you are getting at, Severus. Your manner at getting your point across is brutal."

Turning to her, he smiles a grinchlike smile, 'Said point will not be forgotten, will it?' Not waiting for an answer, he apparates from her home.

She shakes her head, "No, it won't." The man had a way of forcing her to see things that made her very uncomfortable. He had left her speechless this time. She just went to her chair and sat down and replayed the entire scene in her mind. She was so upset that she cried again. She was starting to regret crossing Severus Snape.

[wingedcupcaketimemachine]

Harry Potter x Reader Series

First Year Chapter 1: The Letter Arrives

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: (Y/N) anxiously awaits her Hogwarts letter

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,486

Story Starts Below Cut

Chapter 2

Harry Potter Masterlist

Main Masterlist

The weather was rather gloomy that day in July. Harsh rain showers splattered the panes of the glass windows, while strong gusts of wind swept through the grounds. (Y/N) was awoken rather early this morning, and was greeted with a pale grey sky full of dark, stormy clouds rather than the clear blue that she had become accustomed to over the summer holidays.

Summer had truly arrived, she supposed, when you woke up to brutal summer storms. But that was no matter. For (Y/N), she didn’t look forward to this summer because of the expectation of delicate weather. Instead, she was waiting for a special piece of post to arrive.

Already being awoken by the storm, (Y/N) decided to get a headstart on her morning routine, which, these days, mostly consisted of waiting by the windows in the drawing room, looking for any sign of an owl carrying her letter from Hogwarts.

Like her mother, (Y/N) had started showing signs of being a magical prodigy at a young age. By the age of three, she had begun to magically splash her victims with water any time they annoyed her, her father being a constant victim of this, and by the age of 6, she had been able to turn the family cat, Charlie, different colors as she pleased, much to the displeasure of the cat.

Ever since her 11th birthday came and passed, (Y/N) had waited expectantly for her Hogwarts letter to arrive. As (Y/N) continued to wait, rather impatiently, by the window, she heard the unmistakable rumble of her father’s footsteps as he made his way to the kitchen for breakfast.

Anthony Barnet was a rather tall man with a commanding presence. As the last living descendant of one of the oldest pureblood wizarding families, he had inherited an immense amount of wealth that clearly showed in not only his clothing but the way that he carried himself. However, Mr. Barnet was, by no means, a spiteful and arrogant man.

Following in her father’s footsteps, (Y/N) discovered that her mother had woken early as well, and was already in the kitchen finishing breakfast. Felicity Barnet was quite short compared to her husband, but still carried the same commanding presence. Although she was quite kind, anyone who knew her well knew she could have a nasty temper, which, perhaps unfortunately, was passed onto her daughter.

Mrs. Barnet handed a large plate of breakfast to her husband, who swiftly kissed her cheek in thanks before taking his seat at the head of the table. (Y/N) and her mother sat down shortly after on either side of him.

“I’d best head into work then,” said Mr. Barnet, standing swiftly from his seat at the table, “We’ve got a big case on our hands, and, I hate to say it, but the teams useless without me.”

“What time will you be back?” asked Mrs. Barnet, “We’re meant to have dinner with the Weasleys tonight. Remember?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back by then, and we can head over to the Burrow together.”

With that, he quickly grabbed his cloak, kissed his wife and daughter goodbye, and apparated out of the house.

Shortly after, (Y/N)’s mother looked towards the large grandfather clock in the dining room to check the time.

“I suppose I’d better get ready to head out as well,” said Mrs. Barnet before looking at her daughter, “Will you be fine on your own, love? Or do you want me to send you over to the Weasleys early? I’m sure Molly wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll be fine here on my own Mum,” (Y/N) replied quickly, “Besides, I don’t want to miss my Hogwarts letter. It’s coming today. I can feel it.”

Mrs. Barnet planted a kiss on (Y/N)’s forehead.

“Your father and I will be back shortly before dinner. Maybe Ron will have gotten his letter by tonight as well. You can ask him at dinner.”

After exchanging a quick goodbye, Mrs. Barnet also apparated out of the house, leaving (Y/N) in the dining room alone. After sitting in her own company for a while, (Y/N) decided to busy herself with cleaning the kitchen while waiting for her letter to arrive.

After a few hours slowly crept by, (Y/N) began to feel a sting of loneliness clawing at her chest. Perhaps she should have let her mother drop her off with the Weasleys that morning. At least then she would have had 5 god siblings to keep her company, rather than resorting to mindless household chores to pass the time.

(Y/N) was always jealous of the Weasleys, in a way. Although she loved her parents dearly, she often wished for a large family, like the Weasleys, with several siblings, and a mother who stayed home to care for them.

Although she often wished her parents were able to stay home with her more often, (Y/N) understood the importance of their jobs in the Ministry of Magic. Her father was an auror, a dark wizard catcher, and spent many nights working overtime late into the night before returning to work early the next morning. Her mother, on the other hand, worked for the Department of Magical Transportation as part of the Floo Network Authority. (Y/N) appreciated their hard work to maintain order in the wizarding world, but she sometimes wished that they didn’t have to spend so much time away from her.

Heaving a great sigh, (Y/N) returned to the large grandfather clock in the dining room to check how much time had passed. She swore to herself after discovering that it had only been three measly hours. She was entirely ready to start banging her head against the wall to make the time pass faster when she heard an urgent rapping on the window.

(Y/N) practically ran to the window to free the owl from the stormy weather outside. The owl chirped in a rather annoyed manner, likely from having to make a delivery in such harsh weather, before sticking out its leg, allowing (Y/N) to quickly untie the letter.

After (Y/N) took the letter, the owl shook its feathers, rather haughtily, before taking off into the stormy summer sky. After watching the owl fly off into the distance, (Y/N) quickly pulled the letter out of the envelope and began to read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Barnet,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

As her eyes scanned the last few words on the bottom of the parchment, (Y/N) was a ball of excitement and nerves.

She had always known the day would come when she received her letter offering her a place at Hogwarts. But now, it was real, and the thought almost terrified her. Apart from the Weasleys she had never been around any witches or wizards her age. But now, come the first of September, she was to live in a castle full of them. She could only hope that she and Ron would remain friends throughout their years at Hogwarts.

Several hours later, (Y/N) heard a familiar cracking noise coming from the kitchen, meaning her parents had returned home from work.

She quickly ran to the kitchen, letter in hand. When she arrived, her mother was reading a letter by the window, presumably from the Weasleys, as their owl, Errol was perched on the windowsill. Her father was reading the letter over her mother’s shoulder but looked up with wide eyes when (Y/N) entered the room.

“Your letter,” he said, taking it to examine it himself, “How long ago did it arrive?”

“Early this afternoon,” said (Y/N) “Did Ron get his too? Mrs. Weasley sent over Errol?”

“Yes. Ron’s letter came this afternoon as well. Poor thing,” said Mrs. Barnet, looking at Errol, “We should take the poor owl with us to the Burrow. I’m not sure he could survive another trip in this weather.”

“Right you are dearest,” said Mr. Barnet as he approached his wife, “Floo powder, I presume?”

“Naturally,” she replied, as the family approached the fireplace in the next room.

“You first, love,” said Mr. Barnet as (Y/N) stepped into the fireplace.

(Y/N) had always hated traveling by the floo network. Although convenient, she could never get over the unpleasant squeezing sensation.

(Y/N) grabbed a fistful of floo powder from the pot in her father’s outstretched hand before loudly, and clearly announcing her destination.

“The Burrow!”

[chapter1991]

An Unorganized Mess

Harry felt like the colours around him seemed dull and bleak after the war ended. He was just going through the motions, the only thing that kept him going was Teddy. That was at least until Arthur Weasley's confused colleague stumbled into the Burrow.

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

Chapter 1 of 16

It has been almost a year since the war had finally ended and Voldemort was defeated. Harry had start Auror training a few months ago and it was brutal. Harry came back from his Auror training one day and crashed tiredly on the couch in the library. The once black and depressing walls were now a light beige colour, making the room seem bright and cheerful, nothing like he had felt since living here. All the dark artifacts were removed from the premises and Mrs Weasley and Ginny did their best to spruce up the house, and that house was Grimmauld place. The house of his late godfather.  

It was hard to move in here, but he managed with the others by his side, but now... now he was alone. Hermione had returned to Hogwarts for her last year in September. He saw Ron at training, but he lived at the burrow. His mum didn’t want to let go of any of her children just yet. Understandable, since Fred is still recovering from the wall after almost losing his life.  

 

Professor Lupin, Remus, was gone. Harry still couldn’t wrap his head around it, that his mentor had perished at the final battle alongside his wife, leaving a baby behind. Teddy had lived with Andromeda for a month or three, but it was getting too hard for her. Not only physically but also emotionally, after the loss of her husband and child, who could blame her. That’s when Teddy moved in. A baby, then about four months old had moved in with an eighteen-year-old. Sounds crazy, right? Harry himself knew just how crazy it sounded but it was the last wish of Remus and Tonks, and he couldn’t ignore it. So, yeah, Harry lived alone with a baby of now a year old in a large house, that didn’t feel like home. He was extremely happy with the help of Molly and Andy, but still... this was one of the hardest things he had to do... even harder than killing off old Voldy-warts. 

Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, the fire roared in front of him. Andromeda stepped out of his fireplace as she carried a sleeping Teddy in her arms. 

“Don’t get up, Harry.” She whispered. “I’ll put him in his crib, you rest.” 

“Thanks, Andy.” He smiled tired as he watched the pair walk out the door. From the moment Teddy moved in, things had changed. His relationship with Ginny was strained from the beginning, trying to reconnect after a year of being away from each other. But when Harry decided to take in Teddy and adopt him, it was over. Ginny didn’t want to be a mum at seventeen, she wanted to be free, go play professional quidditch and didn’t want to care for an infant. But seeing as they didn’t seem to reconnect before Teddy, Harry didn’t try to convince her and chose for the little boy who had lost his parents. Andy and Molly cared for Teddy the days he had training, they agreed to switch every other day and pick him up and drop him off at Harry’s.  

Was it hard? Yes. Was it rewarding? Absolutely. Every time the little boy smiled or tried to say something his heart melted even more. He needed to do this for Remus, for Tonks. He needed to make sure he had a happy home with people who loved him.  

Harry didn’t even realise that he had fallen asleep on the couch until someone nudged him awake. 

“Harry? I made dinner, it’s in the kitchen.” Andy smiled as she hovered over him.  

“You didn’t -” Harry started, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, adjusting his glasses. 

“I know.” She cut him off. “I wanted to. Eat some dinner and go to bed. Teddy shouldn’t wake until morning.” She kissed the top of his head. “You’re doing great. Goodnight, Harry.” 

“Night, Andy.” He said as she disappeared in green flames. He pushed himself up and walked over to the kitchen. That too, had changed drastically. You wouldn’t have recognised it if you put the two next to each other. The whole kitchen was redone. The old dark cabinets and tables were replaced by white rustic ones. It looked like one of the kitchens you saw in a muggle magazine. 

He ate the sausage and carrot-mashed potatoes in silence, rinsing the dishes the muggle way before heading upstairs. Teddy’s room was just across from his and just like every night, he snuck inside to watch him sleep peacefully. The purple head of hair almost glowed in the dark room. Harry stepped closer to the crib with a little smile on his lips.  

Teddy was hugging a little stuffed dog tightly to his chest as he slept, a miniature Padfoot. He draped the blanket a little higher to cover his arms and he watched the little boy for about ten minutes before he set the alarm, just in case, and headed to his room.  

After a quick change into his pyjama’s, and brushing his teeth without even trying, he dropped on his bed and covered himself quickly with the thick blankets that laid on his bed.  

He slept in Sirius’s old room. It still had some of his Hogwarts things stuck on the wall, like a Gryffindor scarf and buttons. And even if Harry could remove them, he wouldn’t, it reminded him of Sirius, of who he was.  

He had hung a photo of him and Sirius on the wall. And every night before he went to sleep, he looked over to it, talking to him in his head, always hoping he would answer one day, but he never did. He fell asleep that night, not thinking about how lonely he really was for the first time in weeks, just because the training took everything it had from him. When morning came, the feeling returned. Even with the baby with purple hair on his lap, who he bounced up and down giggling as he made funny faces at him. Even when he saw Ron at training a few hours later, even when Molly invited him to stay for dinner after he went to pick up Teddy early. Even then.  

 

 

Harry was sitting at the kitchen table at the burrow, pushing his potatoes from one side to another. Fred, still stuck in a wheelchair had Teddy on his lap and preformed wandless magic for the little boy. Harry had a soft smile on his lips as the boy squealed in delight. Ron was inhaling his food, rather than eating it, and Mrs Weasley looked at him with a scowl. George was talking about the shop to Percy and Bill. Everyone was here except Charlie, who was back in Romania and Ginny and Hermione who were at Hogwarts. They did have special privileges to come back home during the weekend, but they came only once a month or even less. Harry just stuck a potato on his fork and held it at eyesight to examine it when a distinctive pop was heard. Everyone in the room tensed for a moment, the memories of the war still fresh in everyone’s mind.  

“The wards are still up.” Bill said, his shoulders relaxing. 

“Only someone who’s queued in can apparate on the grounds.” Arthur explained. Still, everyone craned their necks trying to see out the window, even little Teddy looked at the kitchen door.  

Then the door flew open and bounced against the kitchen counter with a bang. A young woman about Harry’s age stepped inside the kitchen going over a bunch of messy papers, not looking up. Murmuring to herself as she flipped through the discarded pile. Oh, Merlin, if Hermione would see the mess of papers in her hands, she would faint . Harry thought to himself with a chuckle. She had dark blond hair, part of it was tied up in a bun, her wand tucked in there, while the rest hung freely over her shoulders. She had round deep blue eyes and a dimple in her left cheek. Harry thought she was beautiful. But who was she? 

“Raids! Four of them.” She grumbled. “I swear if I catch Devinius one more time.” She pursed her lips and looked up. Her round eyes went even larger as she saw the group at the table, and a shy smile tugged on her lips. “Oh, hi.” 

“Bye-bye.” Teddy brabbled as he blew bubbles with his mouth.  

The girl’s eyes melted at the sight of the purple haired boy, her smile getting wide. Her focus was only on the baby, while the rest still looked at her confused, except... Arthur cleared his throat.  

“Oh, right, sorry.” She said impishly. “What... What day is it?” She asked confused looking over the table and to her watch. When no one answered and her watch failed her, she rummaged through her papers. “Shit, sorry it’s Sunday. I’ll find you tomorrow, Arthur.” Her eyes adorably confused. “See you.” 

“Wait.” Arthur smiled kindly. “Why don’t you stay for lunch.” 

“Oh, no.” She shook her head frantically and Harry sadenned at the thought of her leaving. “I have so much work.” 

“It’s Sunday. Do it tomorrow.” Arthur stood up and took the papers out of the bewildered girl’s hands. “Sit.” He gently pushed her shoulders until she sat down on the other side of the table, right in Harry’s eyesight.  

“I thought it was weird the ministry was so empty.” She frowned with slightly pursed lips as she looked from the table to Arthur. “I don’t want to impose.” 

“You’re not imposing, dear.” Molly smiled and already put a plate of food in front of her.  

“Are you Arthur’s new assistant?” Bill asked. 

“Yes, started about two, three months ago.” 

“She’s not just an assistant, she helps me out in the field too. Couldn’t have handled everything without her there after Louisa retired.” 

She smiled shyly again as she looked at the table with a blush. It was something else to see a girl blushing through the acts of Arthur Weasley. It wasn’t a blush from flirting like the twins or Bill could do in a minute, but a blush about how he praised her work.  

“What’s your name, dear?” Molly asked, she probably already knew, but hinted for Arthur to introduce her to everyone. And much to Harry’s delight, he did just that. 

“Oh, right.” Arthur said as he caught Molly’s gaze. “Kids, this is Amelia. Amelia, you met my lovely wife, Molly.” 

“Nice to see you again.” She smiled at the matriarch. 

“The red heads are my sons.” He gestured over the table. 

“I figured.” She chuckled until she clasped her hand over her mouth. Harry couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. The twins and Bill all had an amusing look on their faces. “Hi, Percy.” 

“I forgot. You already met Percy, didn’t you?” Arthur looked flabbergasted for a moment before he shook his head. “Next to him is-” 

“Bill, curse-breaker, right?” 

“Uhm, right. How-?” Arthur frowned and Bill leaned over the table to shake her hand but placed an unexpected kiss on it instead. And to Harry’s surprise, she didn’t blush.  

“You talk more about your kids than anyone I know. You showed me the family picture on my first day.” She looked at the Weasley family. “He’s very proud of all of you. And you two are Fred and George, right?” 

“That we are, milady.” George bowed deeply, while Fred shot her a wink.  

“And Ron, training to be an Auror. If I remember correctly.” 

Ron, who had started eating again once she sat down, looked at her wide-eyed for a moment, his fork still hovering in the air in front of him. Then he swallowed a large piece of potato. “That’s right.” 

She smiled at Ron before her eyes drifted. “That only leaves you two.” She pointed from Teddy to Harry, and Harry’s heart skipped a beat when her eyes found his.  

“You don’t recognise him?” Percy asked incredulously as he pointed obnoxiously at Harry. 

“Uhm, no. I’m sorry, should I?” She asked Harry apologetically. 

“It’s HARRY BLOODY POTTER!” Percy nearly shouted and Bill placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. Harry wanted to bury his head in his hands and sink under the table. 

“Harry Potter?” She repeated softly with a little frown, cute though. Oh, no, here it comes . Harry thought to himself. The screaming, squealing, worshipping . “Are you a musician?” She asked innocently, and Harry’s mouth dropped open for a second until he saw the little smirk she shot him, she was trying to agitate Percy and it was working without fail. 

“WHAT? A MUSICIAN?!” 

“Or -” She started slowly again, ignoring the red faced Weasley, the twins in the meantime were snickering. “Are you the one who defeated no-nose?” 

“So, you have heard of me?” Harry asked grinning, surprised his voice sounded so confident.  

“Honestly, just what I heard at the ministry.” 

“Amelia here, was home schooled, abroad.” Arthur explained. “She didn’t know about the war until she moved back a few months ago.” 

“And I don’t read the Daily Prophet.” She said when Percy opened his mouth. “I’ve seen high school students write better than that rubbish.” Harry’s eyes flickered to the twins, who were practically beaming at her. Percy’s mouth bobbed open and shut like a goldfish.  

“Where were you home schooled that you didn’t even here about the war?” Bill asked curiously. 

“The last three years we were living in the Amazon jungle in South-America.” She said as she plucked on a chip on the table. “My parents studied the fauna and flora there.” 

“Why did you decide-” Bill started to ask before a ringing sound filled the kitchen. 

“Sorry.” She smiled apologetically as she dug out a flip phone. “Hello?” 

Arthur was watching with amazement at Amelia and the cell phone. Bill was whispering to Percy, and George and Fred were having a silent conversation. Teddy started to crawl on the table towards Harry. Fred, in a panic went to grab him, but Harry waved him off. Even though Fred had let the baby go, his eyes were fixed on the crawling baby until he was safely in his arms.  

“No, no.” Amelia shook her head as she talked to the person on the phone. She stood up and knocked her knee harshly against the table, making the silverware clatter, she didn’t even flinch. “Don’t you dare! Or I’ll swear I’ll hex your nuts off you, so you won’t be able to make any babies, you hear!” 

Molly gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth from what she said, while all the others laughed except for Percy and Arthur. Although Arthur had the slightest of smile on his lips. Even Teddy was clapping his hands as he watched Amelia pace next to the table. With a sigh, she clicked her phone shut, and turned to Arthur. 

“I have to go Arthur. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turned to pick up her messy papers but when she turned back to the table, she stumbled over a leg from the chair she was sitting in a moment ago and her papers went flying everywhere. Before anyone had a chance to pull out their wands, the papers froze in mid-air. She started to pick every paper out of the air as if it was nothing. 

“Uhm-” George started as he looked at the sight before him. Harry understood George’s lack of words, because he never had seen anything like it before. She plucked the last one out of the air, her papers sticking in every direction as she held them in her arms. 

“Bye-bye.” Teddy waved. Amelia’s eyes melted again as she looked at the baby. She had first looked over to Fred, but when she had noticed he was gone, her eyes drifted further, to Harry.  

“Bye, bye, Munchkin.” 

“Teddy.” Harry choked out. “His name, I mean. It’s Teddy.” The steady voice from earlier was gone now as it shook.  

“Well, Teddy.” She smiled softly and waved her hand while she tried to balance the papers in the other. Thank Merlin, Arthur stood up to help her otherwise the papers would be stuck in the air again. Colourful dots appeared above Teddy as they trickled down like rain, Teddy tried to catch them, and once he had one in his tiny hand, the colourful dots stayed there for a few seconds before it melted away. By the time everyone had looked away from the show, she was gone. 

“She’s a funny thing.” Bill mused. 

“She’s brilliant.” The twins chimed as they looked to the dots with as much fascination as Teddy. 

“She reminds me of Tonks. I little clumsy -” 

“In an adorable way.” Fred added and Harry frowned a little at that. “How old is she anyway?” 

“Nineteen, I think.” 

“But don’t you dare, Frederick Gideon Weasley.” Molly chastised. 

“I was just wondering.” Fred said innocently but shot Harry a wink that told him otherwise.  

“Right.” Molly pursed her lips at her son. “I’ve only met her a handful of times, when something happened at work, and she came here looking for Arthur. She’s a sweetheart.” 

“Focusses too much on work.” Arthur mumbled.  

“Too much on-” Percy said flabbergasted. “You could never focus too much on work.” 

“You should know that isn’t true, Percy.” Arthur pointed out, and Percy looked down. “I don’t think she really knows anyone here. Since she moved to London, she been working none-stop. And since she lived her whole life abroad... She doesn’t know anyone here. I had thought about bringing her over when Hermione and Ginny come over, but something always came in between. Is it with her, or the girls.” 

“Since you’re here and it’s a Sunday...” Molly started slowly. “Who do you think was on the phone then? As you say she doesn’t know anyone here.” 

“I don’t know.” Arthur frowned as he thought it over.  

“Maybe a boyfriend or girlfriend?” Bill offered.  

“She never mentioned anyone. But I’m an old crook, so I’m not the first one she’d confide in. She never really tells me anything about her.” 

“Maybe because you always are the one doing the talking, dear.” Molly smiled as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe because you never asked.” 

“Merlin’s beard, your right.” Arthur’s eyes widened. “I’m a horrible boss.” 

“You’re not, Mr Weasley.” Harry cut in before Molly. “I think she’s lucky to have you as a boss. Our boss only barks instructions and orders us around.” 

“Yeah, he’s horrible. Not you dad.” Ron added as he was finished off his second plate. 

“Ask her to lunch next week. Ginny and Hermione don’t need to be here. She can get acquainted with Ron and Harry.” Molly’s eyes flickered to the twins. “Just keep her away from the twins.” 

“Oi!” They called back.  

But Harry’s mind was going a mile a minute. He gets to see her again, next Sunday. That flustered, confused face with large blue eyes, that adorable dimple. Harry shook his head internally because there is a chance that she has a boyfriend, or girlfriend. There is a chance she is dull and boring, but for the ten minutes she had spent in the burrow’s kitchen, Harry was fairly certain he could scratch that. One of the things that made him like her was that she didn’t swoon over him, like most girls. 

[vickyvicarious]

I was talking over dinner over the HP world building / plot, mainly missed opportunities, and I feel like sharing one main point here: the wizards already live in a dystopia.

Wizard dystopia evidence:

Small society with little cultural diversity. There are other cultures referenced but they never play a large role, there's this sense of Brit wizard exceptionalism that infects not only their relations with muggles but with foreign wizards too. Even when shit gets dire they don't really call in allies for help or anything.

They have slaves and defend it as something the house elves prefer (+ Hermione is given the villain-with-a-point treatment in her efforts to free them; she is well meaning but her methods are Too Much and she doesn't really Get It)

Second class citizens (particularly thinking goblins) are looked down upon and there is an extended history of them attempting to rise up and being defeated. This also goes for squibs (well, not the rising up, but).

Widespread racism - towards goblins, werewolves, centaurs, muggles... a lot of this is institutionalized or supported by society at large even if not officially approved of (think goblin statue in MoM lobby, werewolf treatment, the emphasis on being pureblood even in 'nicer' families).

Lack of proper education - the 'best school' has a lot of unqualified teachers working there but even beyond that there doesn't appear to be any further education after 17, and especially with regards to the muggle world even so-called enthusiasts like Mr. Weasley and the Muggle Studies teacher don't seem to know what the hell they're talking about

Resistance to new ideas - goes hand in hand with some others here, but their world is steeped in tradition at the cost of innovation. They use candles and quills and fear of the Other is a major part of everyone's life. They are highly selective about who can know about them and limit what change they can make.

Only ONE real source of news. No other newspapers we really hear of besides the universally-derided Quibbler. We also know for a fact the government has their hands firmly in the Daily Prophet.

Corrupt government - shows up strong in later books but is present from the start via the Malfoys clearly buying their way and also through the...

Harsh punishments for lawbreakers - Azkaban is pretty brutal and there is not much evidence of a more minor punishment beyond like... fines. We know from that the government has just skipped trials when it wanted to, and even the trials it gives don't seem especially fair or thorough

At the very least, this society is highly flawed. And honestly, there's nothing wrong with this set up. It's great, even. Except for one detail...

Voldemort represents change. And he is the enemy.

What I mean by this is that he shakes up the status quo. Everyone seems horrified at him killing Muggles because of a combination of patronizing pity ("those poor helpless muggles can't defend themselves") and xenophobic fear ("if he reveals us to them we could all die"). There isn't widespread societal hatred of his message that wizards are superior so much as there is to his methods. Some of which include things like giving power to second-class citizens like werewolves, for example. Sure, our heroes all know that his message is Wrong, not just his methods.

But Harry was abused by muggles and dives right into the escape of the Wizarding world. Hermione longs to be accepted and her hangups tend to get punished by the story (making them character flaws or moments of humor), until there's even a scene where she fully cuts ties with her roots. Even exceptions to the rule (werewolves are horrible predators, but Lupin is a great guy. Giants are seen as violent beasts and half-giants discriminated against, but Hagrid is a true friend.) seem to only emphasize the rule itself by being the only exception and even having reinforcing events around those 'good' characters. (Fenrir Grayback revels in being a beast and leads a whole pack of like-minded werewolves, and even Lupin has put people in danger multiple times. The giants sided with Voldemort/beat up Hagrid with even his brother being so dangerous he had to be tied up, and Hagrid himself has an affinity to dangerous creatures that has put being in danger several times.) These aren't one to one comparisons but overall the impression you get is of exceptions while the norm isn't really challenged.

And since Voldemort, who breaks the rules of the Wizarding society, is the villain, our heroes become representatives of returning the world to the way it was before he ruined everything. Their grand victory in the end is nothing more than a return to the status quo, at least on a textual level. Maybe Hermione becomes Minister of Magic but as far as I recall we don't hear about all the house elves being freed or the goblins getting a fair shake.

And since the world is already pretty much a dystopia, albeit one with fun magic flavoring, this victory doesn't make anyone really better off. If they had defeated Voldemort using Muggle tech or unconventional thinking or something, that would have helped to lead to a story of change. But they instead used old magic, pretty much, and let things go back to the way they used to be. There is no forward progress in the end. No true overhauling of the corrupt system.

[jadedxrealityw]

-Rivals- Hermione Granger x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

    Kody: I’m using the owls grading system for the story so if that’s not right, sue me i guess idk. 

    Movie/Show: Harry Potter, ignoring the storyline

    House/Year: Ravenclaw / 7th year

    Request:  Can I request a bold ravenclaw reader (her attitude almost could pass as a slytherin ngl) she's been Hermione's rival when it comes to grades and they DON'T get along very well. Reader is the opposite of mione's reserved personality. But rivals don't kiss and make out with each other secretly in the lavatory 😭 pls enemies to lovers (with some tension;) ykyk and then one day, they walk the great hall hand in hand and everyone is like don't they find each other insufferable?

    Possible Triggers/Warnings: if you don’t like lesbians get the hell off my page, sexual tension, enemies to lovers trope, cursing

    ☼-☪-☼

    love came unexpectedly at times, you learned that at young age from fairy tales and such. Well all kids did, but kids eventually grew up and came to the realization that fairy tales were exactly what they were, fairy tales. Fiction. Not real. 

    people could call you cold hearted or rude, but you would describe yourself as blunt or brutally honest. Never afraid to speak your mind or point out injustice when you saw fit. To put it simpler terms, professors at Hogwarts preferred you didn’t speak at times. 

    “Your too outspoken Ms. L/n” 

    “Stick to your academics Ms. L/n”

    “You wouldn’t be in detention so much so if kept your mouth shut Ms. L/n”

    merlin, you were exhausted of hearing your own last name. You guessed the only reason you weren’t reprimanded as worse as the Weasley Twins was because you were one of Hogwarts brightest witches, always excelled in academics, in every subject. 

    you couldn’t explain it to others even if you tried other then it just came naturally. Your parents, when they were attended Hogwarts were both just as naturally skilled in there studies as you were. So you must have inherited there ‘big brain’ as your mother said many times before.

    you were never one to gloat though, it was never your style. You were more humble about what you could accomplish. That was until she got involved. That egoistical, hypocritical, Gryffindor girl. Hermione Granger became the bane of your existence early into your fifth year. 

   until then Ms. Granger had been the top of all her classes, no one even came close to her intelligence, naming her ‘The Brightest Witch At Hogwarts’ and Hermione wore that title with pride. Being a Muggle born put a target on her head as well as stereotypes.

    most students and some staff almost immediately came to the conclusion she wasn’t capable of achieving goals that regular half or pure bloods could. It was a terrible way to think, but it was unfortunately the reality of being involved with the wizarding world. 

   Hermione was lucky to have friends like she did that cared about her no matter who she was or what she became, but it didn’t stop her need to feel validated in her academics. It was the one thing no one could giver her shit for, because she was the best at it and no one else was. 

   until that fateful fifth year that was mentioned earlier. It was the time when you finally got your mind and heart into your studie. You blew past most of the student body rather quickly, earning the title of the fastest turn around at Hogwarts.

    it was nice

    then it wasn’t, for Hermione of course 

    ☼-☪-☼

    fifth year / past

    “It seems we have two students with an Outstanding this time around” Professor Flitwick spoke as the exams from the previous week had landed neatly onto the wooden desk in front of you. “congratulations Ms. Granger and Ms. L/n”

    Hermione’s head perked up like a cat who had heard a bag of hard food shake from the nest room over, eager. She had never heard that name before, it didn’t come as much as an surprise though considering how big Hogwarts was. She leant to the left where Harry Potter sat. 

    “Who’s L/n? Do you know her?” she asked, casually though Harry knew her better then most. He gave her a half hearted shrug “No clue, try Ron” he suggests. Hermione nods once before leaning over to the right, where the Weasley sat, scowling at his exam. 

    “Mum’s going to kill me” he muttered, bringing no reaction to Granger’s face. He never studied. “Ron, do you know who this L/n is?” she repeated the question she gave to Harry. Ron turns his head away from the parchment and to Hermione. 

   his brows furrowed as he searches the corners of his mind for where he had heard the name from, until the visible light bulb popped over his head- well not so visible actually. “Oh um- Y/n L/n. she’s a Ravenclaw, her parents are certified geniuses. They work at the ministry. Department of magical education”

   his words did not soothe the wracking thought in the young Granger’s mind. “Certified geniuses?” Hermione echos. “If that’s so how come she’s only getting Outstandings now? she must have cheated somehow” she thought aloud. 

    “I surely didn’t cheat”

   like an owl Hermione’s head turned over her shoulder, her two Gryffindor pals doing the same. In her sight was a girl, her age, in a Ravenclaw robe. She had S/C skin with H/L H/C hair and E/C eyes that were staring back at her. Hermione was almost stunned into silence- keyword being almost. 

    “the explain the good grade all of the sudden, L/n?”

   you looked rather confused. You had never met the girl and she was accusing you of cheating because you had never gotten an Outstanding before? Was this a prank of some sort or fever dream? “I studied for once. You have no right accusing me, i don’t even know you that well”

    Harry placed a hand upon Hermione’s shoulder, signaling for her to stop before she caused a scene. Looking back, she should have listened “No right? I have a right to point out people who are just trying to cheat their way through school while people like us actually care about our grades”

    what the Gryffindor girl wasn’t expecting was for you to start laughing. Her friend, Cho Chang joining in, finding it just as equally hilarious. Hermione’s face turned just as bright as Ron’s hair. “What is so funny?” you and Cho slowly come to a stop, breathing in and out. 

    “what’s funny is that your ego is so incredibly large, so much so that it can’t comprehend that someone, not a Gryffindor either was able to match your intelligence. Now shove off ” you said it all with a grin on your face, because you certainly knew you were right. 

    and from that day, you both despised each other

    ☼-☪-☼

    seventh year / present

    and with every exam, every questioned called on by a teacher, you fastly became Hermione’s rival. It was a term Cho used, but you didn’t really see it that way since you weren’t competing with her. You never studied harder to make sure you got the same grade, never tried to sabotage her in any way. 

    you didn’t care much about it actually

    but you did quite enjoy her face, the way her nostrils flared up an her cheeks turned a bright red in anger. It was cute seeing her so mad. Sending er a wink or sly grin when she glared at you became a daily routine as well. When at first you ignored her you now loved annoying her.

    never having to say a word was probably your favorite part. 

    that’s probably when feelings began to mix into it, but you either didn’t notice or refuse to acknowledge them at all. You genuinely thought you hated this girl, so why in the world would you ever think you liked her? Makes sense, right? Were not even going to mention the questioning your sexuality.

    “Sit still while i pass out your exams from yesterday. Once you recieve your paper you may get up and leave” 

    “You think if Snape got laid he wouldn’t be such a prick?” the Slytherin boy spoke, leaning towards you. turning your head ever so slightly, you lock eyes with Draco “Why are you even sitting here?” you whisper back, giving him a mock astonished look.

   he rolls his grey eyes, shrugging his shoulders “You never talk to me outside of class anymore” he grumbles. Is he- Is this- What is happening? “That’s because your a little shit and pushed Neville in the hallway yesterday” yeh, you caught his dumbass. 

    Draco’s eyes widen a bit, not knowing you had been in the hallway during the crime. “You saw that?- what are you his protector?” he says, clearly as an insult, but oh little did he know that you were indeed exactly what he just said and would say it with pride.

    “Yes-”

    “Ms. L/n, Outstanding as usual as well Mr. Malfoy. Good work, the both of you” Snape places the exams in front of each of you, but you were both to busy staring in shock. This bitter, old, mean, crude man just compliment you. Merlin, you had finally gotten fathers approval

    (what in the fuck am i writing)

    “Is this heaven?” Draco questioned, staring bug eyed forward. 

    “No”

    “How do you know?”

    “Cormac is here”

    “Yeah your right, feelings over” both you and Draco sighed, turning to look at each other before laughing quietly. He was a pretty chill dude sometimes. “What!?” the loud screech filled your ears. All heads turned behind you, so you followed that and saw the one and only Hermione Granger. 

    she was huffing and puffing. You feared for the stick and straw houses in the world for a moment. Harry quickly stood up and pushed her shoulders down, forcing her back into her seat “I've never gotten an Exceeds Expectations before” Hermione sputters out. 

    she

    got

    what

    now?

    oh this was rich, absolutely hilarious, so much so that Draco had already began to laugh. “Poor Granger, guess you really aren’t the brightest witch” he taunted. Hermione looked up, glaring daggers at the Slytherin. Merlin, he had such a big mouth.

    then her brown eyes strayed to you, but you only pursed your lips together, providing her no emotion to work off of. In a haste, she collected her things, leaving the cursed exam on the table nd rushing out the door, both Ron and Harry calling out for her. 

    fuck

    standing up, you grab your bag and look down at Draco. His laughter comes to an end and he looks up at you “What?” he asked. You copied his dementor singers from third year, making him look at your hands. You took that time to reach down and flick his forehead. 

    he pulls away, his palm rubbing his head in circles “Bloody hell, what was that for?!” he exclaimed. What an idiot. “This is why we don’t hang out” you deadpan before finally going to exit the classroom, leaving a grumbling, mumbling Draco. Something about you being  ‘mean friend’

    ☼-☪-☼

    only having ten minutes until Charms class you began to search the halls. Merlin where had she run off too? The school wasn’t THAT big- okay maybe it was. You had almost called quits, making a mental note to check up on her during lunch when you passed the restroom.

    sniffling and crys were heard. You’ll admit, it kind off hurt to hear. Taking a few steps backwards, you use the palm off your hand to slowly push the door open so it wouldn’t creak like the old shit it was. When it was open just enough for you to fit through, you slip in. 

    gazing around, you see Hermione bent over the sink, sobbing. You could hear her voice becoming rougher by the second as she destroyed her vocal cords. “Granger?” you say, staying a few feet behind her. Hermione looks up in the mirror, spotting you behind her. 

    her distraught expression quickly shifted to anger “You” she seethed. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion “Me?” you say back, crossing your arms. “Leave me the hell alone L/n!” she shouts, angry tears flooding down her cheeks. Raising your hands, you offer your surrender.

    “Shit, sorry. I was just trying to see if you were okay” you admit. Hermione turns on her heels, facing you directly this time before speaking “Oh so now your my friend, your a bully! All you do is step on my toes and try to make me look like a fool!”

    “Are you on fucking drugs Granger? Not once have i ever gone out my way to harm you of any sort. Your the one who is obsessed with trying to be better then me and i never gave a shit. I never wanted to be your rival for three years and i certainly never bullied you!”

    the words you spoke went out one of Hermione’s ears and out the other. For someone as smart as her, she could be quite dense when angry “You don’t get to play the saint, L/n! I have spent those three years studying as hard as i can and you don’t even have to try!” 

   throwing your hands up in the air a crazy person because she was honestly starting to make your brain hurt quite a bit, you laugh loudly “Oh my- no one asked you too! What is so wrong with us being the same?! ” you shouted, finally raising your voice as much as she had.

    “Because your not a Muggle! You don’t know what it’s like to have everyone you meet already assume your not worth their time just because your parents aren’t witches or wizards!” she crept towards you and which each step she took you took a step right the fuck back.

    this chick wasn’t going to hit you, right?

    “I have never judged you for your blood status Granger, i frankly could care less. What i do judge you for is you know, the giant ego thing” you spat back only causing her to gasp in offense “I do not have an ego!” she yells, stepping into your boundaries basically.

   you had tried to back up like before, but you were pressed up against a wall at this point. “Yes you do and it’s as big as Hagrid!” you reply. Hermione grabs the collar of your white uniform shirt, pulling you down a bit so her face was inches from yours, trying to intimidate you.

    “Take it back!” she threatens. In that moment your eyes scanned her face, noting her almost perfect skin, her brown eyes that looked more hazel up close then far away, and her lips. They looked so soft and inviting. You couldn’t quite understand why you were thinking like this all of the sudden.

    but it felt right, so right

    in a swift motion you place your lips on Hermione’s. You had thought she’d pull away, but only half a second later her arms were wrapped around your neck, pulling you as close as possible to her. You tangled one of your hands into her light brown wavy mess and the other pushed on the small of her back. 

    the kiss was messy and sloppy, not amount of anything really could make it appropriate. How did you two go from fighting to almost ripping each others uniforms off? A question no one could really answer but yourself as well Hermione. 

    it was over as soon as it began with Hermione pulling away, leaning her forehead against yours. You could make out the small smile on her face, it made you smile as well. “That was-” she started to speak, but was stopped by her own laughter. 

    “Yeah” you breathed out. What had just happened?

        ☼-☪-☼

    four months later

    ever since that day you and Hermione would casually meet up in the lavatory to kiss and feel up on each other after, btween, during classes. Anything really. You both had also not interacted at all outside of these visits. Just stayed away from each other as much as possible.

    most people thought you two had either made up after three years of rivalry or had decided to no longer interact with each other at all. Little did they know right? Speaking of that, you pull away from Hermione, panting for air “We have divination in three minutes” you spoke. 

   her face turned to worry instantly making you grin to yourself “Godric, i have to get out of here. Wait a couple minutes” she gathered her belongings and rushed out the restroom not even leaving you with an goodbye kiss. How rude. After about five minutes or so you leave as well

    once you get to class you look around the room and spot Hermione already sat with Harry and Ron on one side of the arch like sitting area for the students. “Y/n!” oh not again. Turning your head to the right, you spt the Slytherin boy with his mates.

   this guy just doesn’t quit. You plop yourself next to Draco Malfoy “I thought you were going to ignore me again” he admits. Ignoring his statement, you gaze around the people at your table “Where’s Parkinson? If i’m going to be stuck with you gits and Theo i rather it be with her” 

   Theo cracks a smile while Draco rolls his eyes “She’s sick, stuck in her dorms” he explains. You nod mindlessly and look over at Hermione. She was brushing through her hair with her fingers, trying to make it look like you weren’t tugging on it just minutes ago. 

    “What’s that on your neck?” Harry asks, moving the top part of Hermione’s robe with his finger, causing her to swat his hand away “It’s just a bug bite” she says with haste. quick thinking, that’s kinda cute. For some odd reason you liked seeing her explain her way out of a hickey that you gave her. 

    class soon started, but you kept your inventive gaze on her. It was adorable how she would catch you staring and turn a nice shade of red. It brought a smug smile to your face each time. Professor Trelawney had called upon Hermione to ask a question, but she seemed to be too busy avoiding your gaze. 

    “My dear, Ms. Granger” Trelawney said for maybe the third time until Hermione finally fell back down to reality. She looked at the Professor who gave her a kind smile “Oh um-” the Gryffindor put on a nervous smile, her eyes looking to you. You sent her a wink.

    merlin you were such an asshole

    Hermione looked at her lap, trying to muster up the words, any words actually. Her savior wore glasses “Hermione isn’t feeling to well. Can Ron and i take her to the hospital wing?” Harry asked. What a buzzkill. Trelawney nods, waving her hand to the direction of the door. 

    Harry tapped Hermione’s shoulder while Ron grabbed her things and off they went. 

        ☼-☪-☼

    a week later

    “I have to head to dinner, you should too. I saw that you didn’t eat during lunch” Hermione spoke, buttoning her uniform shirt. You smile, looking into the mirror so you could fix your hair “Watching me Granger?” you ask, turning away from your reflection.

    “You know i worry about your health” she said, which only made your smile wider “What is that stupid smile for?’ Hermione questions, an amused laugh in her tone. Shrugging, you lean against the sink counter “Stupid? I thought you liked my quote on quote ‘Goofy smile’” 

    Hermione shakes her head, grabbing her bag from the floor “I better see you at dinner or i’ll drag you there myself” she said playfully. An idea popped into your mind. “Then drag me” you smirk, tilting your head to the left. Hermione looks at you, shaking her head again. “You know i can’t”

    “Why not? It’s been four months. I would like to be your-” you stopped mid sentence. You both had never really gave each other labels before. It was always just the casual make out and flirting, but now you were much more. Fuck it “I would like to be your girlfriend in public”

    Hermione’s brow eyes went wide as she heard those words. It becoming a little too real. You saw her conflicted face and immediately felt some sort of shame. Averting your gaze to the ground, you take a deep breath. “Forget i said anything” 

    “No!- i mean. I’m ready. Plus i’m tired of being distracted by you during class” Hermione lightened the mood just a tad. You look back up at her, cracking a half smile “I’m most likely still going to distract you” you point out, making her chuckle. Cute.

    she inhales sharply “Let’s do this” she states confidently, letting out the breath. She reached out, opening her hand for you to grab. In that small gesture, you knew you would be with this woman for as long as you lived. Grabbing her hand, you intertwined your fingers with hers. 

    ☼-☪-☼

    hand in hand, you walk into the great hall. Heads turned and pupils dialated at the sight of you and Hermione walking in together. You honestly felt a little self conscious until you saw the bright smile of Cho and Luna as well as Draco who gave you a hidden thumbs up.

    both you and Hermione took  seat at the Gryffindor table. “So Hermione, how long as this been going on?” Harry asked. Hermione glances at you before her best friend “Four months, one week.” she said, gleaming with pride at her memory. 

    Harry looked taken aback at the time, but gave you both a smile “Well at least you both are getting along finally” he says, Ron nodding beside “Yeah- getting along” the Weasley jokes. You laugh a bit before leaning over to kiss the temple of Hermione's head. 

    rivals am i right?

        ☼-☪-☼

    Click here to join my Taglist so you never miss a new story from me!

    @the--queen-of-hell @sonbelleame @dracosathenaeum @queeriacs @marrymetheonott

    ☼-☪-☼

    Kody- Aye look its 10 am and i haven’t slept. Good night, my requests are open blah blah. Anyways, peace. 

[dropssofjupitter]

Coffee Cups and Cigarettes

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Ever since Fred’s near death experience at the battle of Hogwarts, everyone at the Burrow had been walking on eggshells around him and doting on him as much as they could. Everyone, that is, except you. The end of the war may have freed everyone else, but it changed and hardened you. And after a late night walk, Fred is going to find out just how much. 

Word Count: 2.4k 

Warnings: Mentions of war, PTSD, nightmares, not handling trauma in a healthy way, mentions of depression but not in an explicit way, depictions of smoking, very slight mention of drinking

Masterlist

A/N: I don’t even know where this came from but here have an angst fic. Also I’m really sorry for the lack of content lately! I’ve been struggling with my mental health and am trying to pull myself out of my rut by picking back up my unfinished fics. 

You could still hear the screams. You could still remember watching bodies fall and the bright flashes of curses burst across your vision. You saw the bodies of Remus and Tonks, lying still, arms outstretched towards each other, every time you closed your eyes. You remembered the feeling of dread settling into your stomach as you spotted his deathly still body across the room, his family surrounding his body with tear stained faces. 

Memories of the war haunted you every time you closed your eyes, suffocating you with their feelings of fear and desperation. They woke you up in a panicked frenzy night after night, hands gripping the bed sheets and desperately reaching for your wand out of impulse. Eventually, you stopped trying to sleep. Instead you took to sitting in your room, a cup of coffee in your hand and a book open on your lap. To the others, it seemed like you were coping, like you were trying to return to whatever sense of normalcy that you’d had before the war. They couldn’t have been more wrong. What they saw as coping, you knew was the opposite. Instead, you were using the books and insomnia as a way to ignore your feelings of inner turmoil and pain. 

When the flashes of green curses began to overtake your vision every time a wave of exhaustion rolled through you, you turned to walks. You walked in the woods outside of the Burrow, letting the sickly sweet summer nights wash you in their cool heat as you walked for hours upon hours. You walked until your legs felt like jelly and your breath was coming out in short bursts; you walked until the orange hues of the sun tainted the dark night that had cloaked you for so long.

No one at the Burrow knew that you took such walks, and to be honest, you wanted to keep it that way. Your actions would only make them worry and try to reach out more, and as it was, you could hardly interact with them at all.  Every time you looked at the Weasley’s or your friends, your head couldn’t help but to fill with what-if’s. 

What if Harry hadn’t woken up? What if Ron had failed to dodge the killing curse? What if Hermione had decided to take on Nagini by herself? What if Mrs. Weasley hadn’t been able to kill Bellatrix? What if Fred had been unable to minimize the damage on the Confrigo curse?

They consumed you, those thoughts. They threatened to voice themselves every time you so much as glanced up at someone with red hair, so you kept to yourself. But while you sought solitude, everyone else sought comfort. Harry and Ginny were hardly apart from each other for long, hands clasped tightly at all times. They whispered in hushed voices in the corners of the rooms, strained smiles on their faces. At night, you could hear Ginny’s soft footsteps pass by your door as she headed to Harry’s room. 

Ron and Hermione were complicated. They were often engaged in fights that soon evolved into screaming matches; sometimes Hermione won, other times Ron did. In the end, it never really mattered who won. The two of them would make up by dinner, and sit next to each other with their hands intertwined underneath the table and terse smiles on their faces, knowing that tomorrow they would have the exact same fight.

If Fred and George were close before, they were nearly inseparable now. They had closed their joke shop for the time being, giving Fred time to heal after his brush with death, and were often found trying their best to keep the mood in the house light. They knew all too well the importance of humor in dark times.

Fred had changed though, and you knew that you weren’t the only one who’d noticed it. You’d caught him staring into the distance multiple times, eyes trained on something that no one else could see. His skin would pale, his hands would shake, and sometimes it would take him an agonizingly long time to pull himself out of whatever he was seeing. 

No one ever mentioned it. Instead, they chose to live in their blissful ignorance and show their support in ways that they were familiar with. They let him choose meals and take his seat first. They joked with him, let him choose the nights entertainment, never asked him to do any chores. They were walking on eggshells around him, and it was infuriating. 

You knew that you could never tell them that, though. You knew that if you did, the entire structure that the family had been clinging to for so long would topple without warning. So you bit your tongue and forced a smile; forced yourself to laugh along with them at one of George’s strained jokes, and forced yourself into complacency. 

And it had been working, until Fred had wandered outside and, subsequently, upon you leaning on the porch railing. 

It was dark out, still the early hours of the morning, and you had a mug of steaming coffee clasped in your hands like a lifeline. Hearing the front door open, you looked over at him, obviously startled before looking quickly away once more. “I didn’t know that anyone else was up,” you said quietly, taking a small sip of your coffee and wincing as it burned the tip of your tongue. 

He hesitated before replying, moving to sit on the rickety steps that connected the porch to the ground. “Neither did I,” he replied with a small smile, fiddling with a package in his hand as he looked out at the fields surrounding his home. 

You glanced over at him and nodded to his hands. “What are those?” you asked, doing your best to make conversation as the two of you were bathed in starlight. You hoped it wasn’t incredibly obvious that you were uncomfortable with him being outside with you. It felt like he was encroaching on your safe space, but you didn’t have the heart to kick him out. 

His hands stop flipping the package and he stilled for a moment before forcing a smile onto his face and opening it. He looked over at you as he pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips before taking a lighter out of his shirt pocket. “My secret to staying sane,” he replied, lighting the cigarette and placing the nearly empty container on the step next to him. 

You tried to force a smile, mouth turning up at the ends in a shaky gesture as your eyes shifted from staring past him to staring at the fields surrounding you, but after a minute you dropped it. You were so tired of pretending that everything was okay. That you were okay. A deafening silence fell over the two of you, and it fell heavily on your shoulders.

You used to be good at talking to people; before the war. You used to be able to start a conversation over the most mundane objects and let it foster a wary friendship. You were exceptional at it. And then the war happened. Now you didn’t know how to talk to anyone. Every conversation was strained and dense; filled with silences that neither you nor those that you were conversing with knew how to handle. 

You glanced over at Fred, flinching as your mind twisted the sight and forced you to see the deathly stillness you had come to know quite well in your nightmares. Closing your eyes, you turned your head away and took a drink for your mug. You were far too sober to be dealing with this right now. 

Fred took a drag of the cigarette, inhaling deeply before blowing out a puff of smoke, watching it curl and flip in the cold sky. “Why won’t you look at me?” he asked quietly, staring down at the cigarette that lay between his fingers before looking up at you. 

You stared out at the field, watching the fog lay over it like a loving blanket. Your coffee mug was resting comfortably in your hands, and you blew on it gently. “Because every time I do, I watch you die.”

You were never one to sugarcoat the truth, he knew that. Often you were even described as brutally honest. But it was no stretch to say that he had never expected you to say that. He hesitated in his reply, something you picked up on easily yet held your tongue about. “I didn’t die,” he replied, taking another drag. “No matter how much George wants to be one brother short of a twin, I can’t give him the satisfaction.” His lips curled up in a smile, and you knew that he was trying to diffuse the tense air around the two of you. 

“But you almost did,” you said calmly, lifting the mug to your lips and taking a sip. It was scary sometimes, how unbothered you were about things like this. It was like you weren’t properly feeling, and maybe you weren’t. Or maybe you were compartmentalizing, shoving what you didn’t need into the depths of your mind.

 “So did everyone else. We all took risks in the war, but we made it out,” he said with a shrug, turning his head to look out at the field as well. 

You took time with your response, turning the words over in your mouth and feeding them to yourself in a mental debate. You knew that once you said them, you would be opening the talk into something more, something bigger. Maybe...maybe that would be a good thing. “Then why does it feel like we never left?” you asked in a soft voice, eyes now trained on the coffee in your hands.

He paused, cigarette frozen inches from his lips. You could tell he was mulling over his answer as well; wondering if he should let you in or push you back beyond his walls. Eventually, he smiled, an expression that conveyed no joy and was paired with a bitter laugh. “I wish I fucking knew.” 

You accepted his answer, choosing not to pry or open up any further as the two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence. You listened to the birds chirp their wakeup call as the sun finally began to emerge from beyond the hills, and inwardly you knew that your time out here was limited now. Your friends were going to start waking up soon, and they would be concerned if they found you outside at this hour. Just as you were about to finish the rest of your coffee and leave, Fred spoke again. 

“Why were you out here?” he asked, eyes turning to catch yours as you finally looked over at him. You saw a flash of his body in the Great Hall, pale skinned and eerily quiet with his family standing over him and quickly looked away again. 

You debated lying to him. Telling him that you’d heard a noise and were unable to go back to sleep. But you were so tired of lying. You were tired of hiding flinches, of hiding the dark circles under your eyes, of hiding. Your fingers fidgeted with the bracelet you wore on your wrist, a reminder of your parents, of what you lost, and you sighed. “It’s hard for me to sleep, so I come out here instead. It’s . . peaceful. Quiet. It makes me feel safe.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him nod in understanding while taking a final drag from his cigarette and dropping it onto the porch before stomping it out. “It’s the nightmares, right? They keep you up and take you back to the war.” 

You silently nodded your head, closing your eyes and pressing your hands up to your face as a sudden feeling of desperation welled up inside of you. “I haven’t slept in months,” you confessed softly. You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting against the slew of emotions that were suddenly surfacing after being pushed down and held back for so long. 

You could sense Fred hesitating, feel him cautiously stand up. You heard the soft creaking of the porch as he walked over to you, unsure of what to do and how to help. “Can I . . . can I hug you?” he asked gently, feet shuffling as he shifted his weight from side to side. 

Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, you nodded. “I just-” your voice broke and you cleared your throat. “I just want to know when I’m going to stop seeing everything. I can’t blink without seeing the school. Without seeing him. It’s like..,” you took another breath, your shoulders shaking and your eyes shining with unshed tears. “It’s like I’m always going to be back there. Watching people die. Unable to save any of them.” 

Fred wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on top of yours as the two of you faced the grassy hills that surrounded the Burrow. “Every time I close my eyes I wonder what would’ve happened if I hadn’t fired that counter curse.” 

Your hands dropped from your face slowly, reaching down to place a comforting hand on his arm to let him know that you were there for him as tears slipped silently down your face. 

“I can see it, you know. When they look at me. I can see it in their eyes. They’re all thinking the same thing that I am.” His fists clench and he grits his teeth, pain evident on his face as his mind takes him back to the final battle.  “If I had been a second slower...” he trailed off, eyes hardening. 

You could smell the smoke on him like this. It clung to him like a cloud, sticking to his clothes and enveloping you in its scent. It was, surprisingly, calming. And you could see why he had turned to smoking as a coping mechanism. 

Wordlessly you lifted one of his hands to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. “Thank you for not being a second slower,” you whispered, leaning your head back against his chest and savoring the feeling of being held. 

You knew that in a few short minutes you would have to move; to go back up to your room and pretend that you had gotten a restful nights sleep and that you were actually okay. But for now you were content to be here, in this moment. You were content to live in this point in time for a few more seconds and pretend that you weren’t terribly broken inside. You could allow yourself this, one thing. 

.

.

.

Taglist:

@hydrasbitches 

Add yourself to my taglist here

[saintsenara]

For the ask game: I’ll go for 1, 19, and 29 for Tom/Harry. And, if you’d like, 30 for a ship of your choice! 😊

(P.S. I just saw your post about the Myrtle rom-com! I am HYPED).

thank you so much for the ask, @spacecadette - and for reminding me to tentatively go back to ao3 and launch myrtle's hot girl era to the world.

the answer [unhinged and deranged] to question 30 is here and the questions for the ask game are here

1. what are their love languages?

answered here, and i stand by it. there's no interest from these two in words of affirmation or spending quality time together, and their interest in physical touch - the succour of a generation of smut writers - is mostly because who wouldn't want to be constantly running their hands over someone who has/had a bit of your soul living in them.

lord voldemort's love language is gift-giving, harry's is acts of service. they make it work.

19. how do they silently/subtly express their love for each other?

answered from voldemort's perspective, although of course he denies it indicates any affection for harry, here.

and as for harry? well, as ron says in canon [tomarry shipper, we all knew it]: you really understand him.

harry is probably the only person in the entire story who can completely appreciate just how grim voldemort's childhood was, and who can understand how that might have influenced the choices he made throughout his life. it's this that drives him, even in the middle of war, to beg voldemort to try to feel remorse; it's this which makes him want to help the soul-piece at king's cross; it's this which causes his obvious - and, to other characters, very confusing - empathy for the teenage tom riddle, who is disappointed to find his uncle living in a shack and furious when hepzibah smith insults his mother.

and that understanding - especially for someone who is, underneath the mask of cold brutality, just a feral boy who wishes to be seen and known - is like the tides against a cliff.

harry offers up a little space for voldemort to meditate on the fact that being an orphan is like being a palimpsest, constantly searching for traces of your ancestors within yourself; gets into days-long arguments about whether mrs cole or petunia was worse; "accidentally" leaves bob ogden's memory out, allowing voldemort to see his mother for the first time; recognises that hating your mother for dying and your father for abandoning you is a pretty natural reaction for a child to have, and dumbledore needed to tighten up; tells voldemort he'd have been a terrible teacher, because you can't let basilisks loose in schools and expect that not to affect a hiring committee; deals with a week of screaming when he tells voldemort about regulus; points out that gringotts is a bank and you can just ask for an account there; is game for starting new traditions for high-days and holidays, since neither of them ever had any as children [harry pretends the fireworks on nye are for voldemort, voldemort genuinely believes it]; and - and this is the one voldemort simply can't deal with and pretends never happens - forgives him.

because he's harry potter, damn it, and he gets to decide if that prophecy actually means anything.

he also allows voldemort to do all their interior design, even if that means living in a house with so much gold in it it's basically the interior of a byzantine cathedral. whatever keeps him out of trouble.

29. what is something they can never agree on? how do they meet in the middle?

ethics. obviously.

criminal justice. politics. the economy. whether hell is real. wandlore. dumbledore. if harry killing voldemort balances out voldemort killing harry's parents. werewolf rights. muggle technology. house elves. whether hermione is annoying. spoiler ettiquette. dinner. where to go on holiday. if harry looks good in his weasley jumper. if albus severus is a worse name for a child than delphini. whether hagrid should have been expelled. whether dogs are better than cats. what they're doing that weekend.

the list truly is endless...

they meet in the middle quite literally when they start hexing each other, activate the old wand connection, and are knocked out by the force of the magic when the golden bead reaches the middle of the spell. they wake up and decide to agree to disagree. they make it, at most, a day before it happens again.

ron and hermione are losing their minds.

[lonelyyinchicago]

the desk (first year)

hermione rolled her eyes as harry potter and his friend ron weasley burst into the classroom ten minutes late. she smirked silently to herself as professor mcgonagall scolded them right in front of her.

her smile disappeared quickly however, as ron was placed next to her. she sighed as he hovered awkwardly at the end of the desk, waiting for her to move her books.

they wrote in silence, until hermione stopped to stare at him.

“what?”

“can you move your arm? you’re on my half of the desk.”

“am not.”

ron dragged his quill down the desk, carving a faint line and the letters ‘r’ and ‘h’.

“this is my half, and this” he stabbed hermione’s side so hard he made his quill tip blunt, “is your side.”

hermione inhaled sharply as the stubborn boy next to her defaced school property.

“what?”

“you ruined the desk” she hissed at him, still in shock.

“hardly” he pointed out. “these people were stupid enough to write their actual names.”

“mr weasley, have you finished the notes?”

ron looked up.

“no, professor.”

“so why are you talking?”

hermione turned back to her parchment as ron’s cheeks burned. after thirty seconds of silence between the pair, hermione lifted her head in frustration again.

“you keep hitting my elbow; your stupid line doesn’t work.”

“it’s not my fault you’re weird and left-handed” ron retorted. “and you’re not even trying to stay in your half.”

“it’s not weird to be left-handed” she snapped, much louder than she’d intended.

“miss granger, what is the problem?”

“oh umm nothing professor. we’re okay.”

“speak for yourself” ron muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes at harry, who merely grinned back.

“if the pair of you need more space, why don’t you just swap seats?” mcgonagall suggested. “save the entire room from hearing this little domestic.”

both ron and hermione blushed furiously at her final word but stayed where they were. they completed the notes in silence, their arms brushing occasionally. as hermione adjusted her skirt under the desk, her hand knocked into ron’s knee. his hand jerked in surprise, ripping the parchment.

he glared at her, but remained silent. she shrugged, smiling apologetically. ron turned back to his ruined page with a grimace.

“to make matters worse, she’s bloody left-handed” ron complained to harry back in the common room.

harry looked up and saw hermione watching ron closely. he nudged his friend, who stared back at hermione questioningly. she hurried out of the common room, and harry turned his head to watch her almost trip out of the portrait hole.

ron shook his head: “she’s so strange.”

harry mumbled incoherently in agreement as ron turned back to rewrite the torn notes from the lesson.

the next morning mcgonagall’s sharp voice made ron jump as she approached the desk quietly.

“mr weasley, miss granger, why are your initials carved onto this desk?”

“well professor” ron began as hermione buried her head in her hands, “we were getting in each other’s way, so we split the desk so we’d know where half was.”

mcgonagall pursed her lips, but the brutal honesty of the weasley before her softened her.

“i see; if this system is working for you i will leave it be, but no more defacing school property please.”

“yes professor.”

ron smiled up at her sheepishly as he replied quietly. hermione remained in shock, as ron grinned across at her.

“i can’t believe we didn’t get in trouble” she said.

“don’t complain about it” ron told her. “why would you want a detention?”

“i don’t” hermione retorted, “i’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“okay.”

ron turned away, shaking his head with a small smile at his lips.

“are you laughing at me?”

“hmm? no” he said, turning back to face her. “definitely not.”

she narrowed her eyes disbelievingly but continued sketching her diagram. ron continued to watch her amusedly, distracted. he jumped slightly as the bell rang.

“see you later” hermione said with a smile, gathering her books.

“yeah, okay.”

ron fumbled over his words awkwardly, as he saw harry waiting for him to finish his conversation with hermione.

“she can’t be that bad if you’re going to see her later” harry told ron at dinner.

“shut up, harry” ron said, aggressively stabbing at the sausage on the plate in front of him.

harry remained silent, smiling as his friend watched the dark-haired girl leave the great hall.

[oh-for-merlins-sake]

TRICK & TREAT | fw

a/n: okay, so i KNOW we’re not exactly in october yet, but spooky season is my FAVORITE season, and i couldn’t resist. if i could have an interminable spooky season every year, my heart would sing tbh. also, side note: thank you to those who have interacted with my previous fic, or who have followed me, or who have showed me any ounce of love at all. like, i’m just hear to party and obsess over the weasley twins in the midst of all of these stellar writers. i just hope to be up to par with them someday. CHEERS! xo

pairing: fred weasley x reader (fem!reader)

word count: 3k

warnings: swearing (fred’s a potty mouth, yeah?), gets a little steamy at the end but nothing heart-stopping.

┈┈┈┈

You looked up from your dreadfully long piece of parchment in the library to gaze longingly out of a nearby window. The leaves were finally an amalgamation of bright reds and oranges, and you could almost feel the autumn breeze on your fingertips. Fall was your favorite season, and not just cause it hosted your favorite holiday.

This year, however, Snape decided that he was in no such mood for the Halloween spirit. As a result, an exceptionally long essay on potion making was due bright and early Monday morning, despite the holiday falling on Saturday — today.

You rubbed your eyes, blinking a few times to keep yourself awake, then resumed frantically scribbling on your parchment.

“And how long have you been at this, may I ask?”

You didn’t have to divert your gaze from the parchment to know exactly who was striding toward your table.

“In the middle of something, Freddie,” you mumbled.

“What, that dreadful essay for Snape?” He asked, sliding into the seat across from you.

“Yes,” you sighed, twirling your quill between your aching fingers.

“Oh, come off it — don’t let Snape ruin your Halloween. Put the quill down, and let’s get going,” he insisted, reaching for your quill.

You retracted your hand, raising your brows at him in response. “As if! I can’t fuck around, Fred. This is N.E.W.T. level Potions. He’ll toss me if I hand in anything less than exemplary.”

“The way I see it, Y/N,” he began, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet on the table, “The only reason Snape assigned this essay this weekend is because he’s a proper miserable prat. Just wants to ruin the fun for everyone, I reckon.”

You rolled your eyes, partially at Fred’s persistence, but also at Snape’s total arrogance.

“I propose that you put the quill down and come to the festival! C’mon, assigning an essay on Halloween weekend? Bloody mad, he is!”

You sighed again, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and weighing your options.

On the one hand, you needed to do well on this essay (not that you hadn’t been doing well in Snape’s class, but given that it was Snape, one minor error could be one too many).

But on the other hand, you’d probably plucked and polished as much cluttered information from your brain as you could; and there Fred sat, beckoning you with that cheeky grin and those sweet, brown eyes to go to the Hallowe’en Festival in Hogsmeade.

“I don’t have a costume,” you said with a frown.

“Not to worry, love!”

Fred lugged his book bag onto the table with a mischievous grin, rummaging around inside and extracting various crumpled pieces of parchment, empty sweet wrappers, and the occasional contraption. Finally, he chucked a muggle entertainment magazine onto the table that was dated 1989 and began flipping through its pages.

“Dad’s latest obsession are these muggle magazines, and I found this in one of them...”

He eagerly pointed to a spread that celebrated the 50th anniversary of The Wizard of Oz. You let out a rather loud laugh (to which Madam Pince responded by shushing you both).

“What?” He whispered, giggling and playfully shoving your arm.

“You want to go as characters from The Wizard of Oz?” You shook your head, smiling sweetly.

“So you’re familiar?” He beamed at you.

“Yes, Fred, as a muggle born, I’m quite familiar with one of the most famous muggle movies of all time,” you teased.

“So you’ll go as her then?” He asked, pointing to Dorothy.

“Me? Go as her?” You asked incredulously. “I don’t have anything that would work for that costume. And I’m not so sure that anyone would recognize me without — ”

“The rest of them? Don’t worry, love, thought of that too!”

“You just think of everything, don’t you?” You quipped, narrowing your eyes.

“You’re a fucking witch, Y/N. I’m sure you’ll conjure something up,” he reminded.

You opened your mouth to counter, but he swiftly interrupted, "And if you’re concerned with anyone recognizing you, well... you’re looking at none other than Scarecrow himself.” He straightened up and tugged at his collar, wiggling his eyebrows.

You laughed again. (“Shh!”)

Fred lowered his voice, “Listen, Georgie’s gonna be the Tin Man, and Gin’s borrowing Luna’s lion’s head for the other one,” he explained. “All we’re missing is Dorothy.”

“Oh, I see,” you said, returning to your parchment with a smirk, “You just need me to complete your costume, ay?”

Suddenly, Fred plucked his wand to summon your quill from your hand to his.

“Come to the Hallowe’en festival with me, Y/N,” he insisted, tossing your dainty quill from one immense hand to the other.

You paused, glaring at him, for he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

“Fine!”

Fred punched the air in celebration before tucking your quill behind his ear and moseying out of the library.

“You’ve got two hours, Y/L/N,” he called over his shoulder.

The instant he turned the corner, you stuffed your parchment into your bag and scampered towards your dormitory. Butterflies erupted in the pits of your stomach as you pondered the possibilities of the night to come, and you felt a slow burning warmth trickle from your cheeks to the tips of your toes.

Yes, you were relieved to elude Snape’s brutal homework for the night, but deeper within you resided the covert, overwhelming desire that drove your final decision to go. After a wearisome couple of hours brimful of several twirls in front of the mirror, you ultimately decided your haphazard costume would have to do.

You’d managed to procure a white dress and pair of heels from your wardrobe, enchanting the former to mock the pattern of Dorothy’s dress and the latter to radiate a shimmering ruby red. You straightened out the hem of your dress before skipping out into the entrance hall in search of Fred.

You weaved between clusters of costumed students, noting several muggle characters along the way, including an Ariel, a Marty McFly, and even a Ghostbuster. You spotted a straw-hat poking out from above the crowd and rushed over.

“Well, good evening, Mr. Scarecrow!” You exclaimed, tapping his shoulder.

He spun around. “Bloody hell, it’s Dorothy!”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his costume, particularly the bright orange dot carefully painted on the tip of his nose. You appreciated the fact that faux freckles weren’t necessary for his costume, as his sweet speckles did the trick just fine. You were also fairly amused by George’s dingy, silver hat and Ginny’s small head being consumed by Luna’s lion contraption.

“Putting Dorothy to shame, I reckon,” Fred declared, winking down at you.

You were embarrassed at how quickly your cheeks turned color at the compliment.

The four of you nearly sprinted to Hogsmeade, bubbling over with excitement. All of Hogwarts had been feverishly babbling about the Hallowe’en Festival for weeks now, mostly because it served as an excuse to flee Umbridge’s reign of terror. When the announcement came that the shopkeepers of Hogsmeade would be hosting a festival for the students, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief that there was something outside of these walls that would provide a sense of warmth and security that had been missing as of late. It was refreshing, to say the least.

And hell, if it gave you an excuse to spend time with Fred, you surely weren’t complaining.

“Holy shit, Y/N!” Fred exclaimed, vigorously rocking you back and forth, “Bobbing for apples!”

You giggled and bounced along as he tugged you by the hand toward the festivities. George and Ginny followed suit, trailing behind with just enough space behind you and Fred.

Without hesitation, Fred sunk his head into a bucket of water in search of an apple and surprisingly succeeded on his first attempt. He resurfaced, teeth clenched around a scarlet apple, and winked at you before spitting it into his palm. You giggled at the orange paint on his nose; now smeared from the charade.

“Your turn,” he urged, taking a hearty bite from his reward.

Though you weren’t as quick at retrieving one as Fred had been, you eventually managed to reap a bright green apple from the pail. You kept the apple nicely snug between your teeth as you shook the water from your face with a laugh. You held the apple in your palm, turning it over in the moonlight, before taking a bite to indulge in its sweet and sour flavors.

Fred gently pushed back the wisps of hair that were now plastered to your forehead. You swallowed your bite and your staggering desire to taste him too.

“Shall we retrieve some sweets from Honeydukes, Freddie?” You blurted.

“‘Course,” He breathed, hand lingering on your forehead.

You quickly tossed the remnants of your apple in a nearby bin before skipping towards Honeydukes.  Fred scampered behind you, laughing at the way you kept balance in your heels.

“Quit laughing at me, Weasley!” You exclaimed, arms shot out on either side of you.

Fred caught up to you and clutched your waist, murmuring, “You can hold me for balance anytime, love.”

Your heart pounded as his fingers tightened their grip before dismissing the feeling with an eye roll and a playful slap to his chest.

The two of you approached Honeydukes, which was festively adorned with strings of misty orange lights and floating jack-o-lanterns. The shopkeeper was tossing free sweets for the taking, and while Fred was able to score some with ease due to his looming height, you had to jump just to try — even in your high heels.

Fred couldn’t help but grin as you grasped at nothing, clinging to his shoulder for balance.

“What are you reaching for, love?” He asked, gently bumping his hip into yours.

“I’m just — ” You hopped again. “Trying — to get — a bloody Sugar Quill!”

Within seconds, Fred effortlessly seized a Sugar Quill and tossed it down to you. You thanked him, beaming up at him as you ripped it open.

He proceeded to catch a few more sweets, including some Chocolate Cauldrons, Pumpkin Pasties, and enough Sugar Quills to tide you over until next Halloween. You both walked aimlessly through Hogsmeade, munching on your sweets and speculating on the whereabouts of the rest of your group. You’d both decided that you’d find them later before plopping down onto a bench to finish off the last of your goodies.

Full of sugar and glee, you almost didn’t notice that Fred’s thigh was in contact with yours — the realization knocking your breath off of its steady course.

You fiddled with a wrapper as you genuinely considered trailing your fingers across his chest and pressing your lips to his under the light of jack-o-lanterns and the smell of cinnamon. You genuinely considered sending him spiraling into oblivion, just as he’d done to you at nearly every interaction. Oh, to make him go weak in the knees for once.

“Fred — ”

Suddenly, a gaggle of first-years scrambled by as Malfoy and his minions hounded them for sweets. You both snapped your heads in their direction, perturbed by the disruption.

“What do you say we put the ‘trick’ in trick-or-treat?” Fred asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

So close.

After some deliberation of the proper way to exact justice, you and Fred decided to convince some first-years to toss a few Nosebleed Nougats into their bags of sweets. You made certain that they would not touch the Nougats themselves, but that they would instead offer them up to Malfoy when he came hunting for more.

You hurried back over to Fred, who was hiding behind a shop corner, and observed the hysterical events that transpired together. You stifled your laughter as Malfoy yanked the Nougats out of the sack and split them between himself and his mates. The first years scurried away, thankful to have evaded surrendering their sweets, as the prats chewed into their Nougats.

They tossed their wrappers onto the cobblestone and scouted the area for their next victims. They were abruptly interrupted by the blood gushing out of their noses, causing you and Fred to rush into Three Broomsticks in a fit of laughter. You peered out of the window and watched as Malfoy and his mates darted towards the castle, fists pressed against their noses.

“I can’t believe we got away with that,” you admitted breathlessly.

Fred high-fived you, hand squeezing yours, as he tried to catch his breath. He led you to an empty table near the fireplace before wandering off to obtain a couple of warm Butterbeers. You sat down and rubbed your hands together, feeling the cold slowly easing from your fingertips.

“You know what’s always bugged me,” Fred began, sliding your mug across the table and removing his hat.

“Hm?” You hummed, taking a sip.

He sat down and clutched his warm mug. “Why does it have to be trick or treat? Why not both? I mean, everyone loves a good trick, and everyone loves a good treat. I’ve never understood that!”

You laughed, wiping the foam of your drink from your mouth. “You know, Freddie, you make an awfully good point! From now on, you’ll only ever hear me say ‘trick and treat’!”

“Cheers!” He laughed, clinking his mug with yours.

The two of you chatted away in Three Broomsticks for what felt like an eternity. As time passed, folks rolled in and out of the pub, and eventually you found the rest of your party. George and Ginny, along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, joined you for some time before deciding they’d had enough festivities for one evening.

As they gathered their things and emptied their mugs, George turned to the two of you and asked, “You two coming along?”

Suddenly, Ginny grabbed George’s arm, forcefully turning him towards the door as she sang over her shoulder, “Goodnight!”

Fred chuckled, taking a swig from his drink, as you fought to suppress the cursed blush that continuously resurfaced on your burning cheeks.

Time continued ticking away as the two of you resumed conversation. It felt natural to sit with Fred, tossing back Butterbeers, bringing each other to tears from laughter, and poking and prodding at the recesses of your minds; Madam Rosmerta was less fond of it, however.

“I’m sure it’s well past your bedtime, lovebirds — out,” she declared.

The two of you gathered your belongings and giggled as you wandered back out into the streets. You caught a glimpse of the time and exclaimed, “Blimey, it’s eleven o’clock! We’ll have to sneak back into the castle at this point!”

“I know a way back,” Fred said with a smirk.

He led you by the hand to a secret passageway tucked in an alley where he assured you it was a safe escape to Hogwarts. You had your doubts about the secrecy of this tunnel, feeling uneasy at the thought of Filch ensnaring you after-hours; but Fred insisted. And if it meant prolonging your evening with Fred, then you had no choice but to follow.

As you crept down the tunnel towards Hogwarts by the guiding light of Fred’s wand, you gently bumped into his side, conspicuously brushing your hand against his. You normally wouldn’t feel so bold, but after the sheer volume of Butterbeer that you’d consumed, you felt particularly daring at the moment.

Fred grinned down at you and gently bumped you back. You stumbled a bit in a fit of giggles that Fred echoed as he snagged your hand in his.

“Easy there, Y/L/N, don’t want you tumbling down the tunnel!”

You took advantage of the opportunity to boldly intertwine your fingers with his. You rested your head on his arm and mumbled, “I’m tired, Freddie...”

“We’re almost there,” he said, fighting a grin and squeezing your hand.

The two of you continued walking for quite some time like this. The remainder of the walk was mostly silent — not because neither of you had anything to say, but mostly because you each had so much to say and ruminated on exactly how to say those things.

Your thoughts raced through your addled brain a million miles a minute, and as you approached the Hogwarts corridor, you cursed yourself for not saying something sooner.

“You fall asleep over there?” Fred chuckled, nudging your head softly with his arm.

You peered up at him lovingly before straightening up to face him. With your fingers still tightly wound around his, you whispered, “Freddie...”

“Y/N,” he playfully whispered back.

You giggled.

“That was a good trick we played earlier, don’t you think?” You asked, taking a step closer.

“One of my finest yet,” he replied, struggling to form full sentences given your proximity.

“And you know what they say...” You said.

“What do they say, Y/N?” He teased, using his free hand to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Trick and treat... so how’s about a treat?”

Suddenly, you closed the space between the two of you and locked your lips with his. Your lips moved slowly together, almost in shock that this was actually happening. He released your hand in order to use both of his to hold the back of your head, and you stood on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss as you wrapped your hands around his neck.

When your lips parted, you almost whined at the separation.

“That was the best treat yet,” he said with a wink, running his hands down your waist and giving you a squeeze.

You bit your lip and led him down a quiet hallway. “I know I’m supposed to say something like, ‘There’s no place like home,’ but honestly...” you trailed off, stopping in front of a vacant classroom. “I’d much rather be in here.”

Fred’s eyes widened with hunger as you backed him into the classroom, kicking the door shut behind you.

Fred lifted you onto a nearby desk and sighed, “I love Halloween.”

[ginnyweasleymybeloved]

heartbeat on the high line / fred weasley

unresolved angst for freddie because i felt like it <3

summary: fred broke your heart a long time ago and a walk through diagon alley brings up old memories for the both of you

word count: 2.9 k

warnings: post-war timeline, mentions of torture sort of?, mentions of being underweight because of said torture, fluff sort of if you squint?, angst, open ended, tiny mention of death, let me know if i missed anything!! <3

let me know what you think <3

this is based on the song “cardigan” by taylor swift but it’s not a song fic <3

Skies of dark grey released heavy sheets of rain onto the cobblestone streets below, the pitter-patter of the torrential downpour barely muted the sound of your high heels against the all too familiar stone street. A stark black umbrella held primly above your head shielded you from the typical English weather as you strutted through Diagon Alley.

Truthfully, you hadn’t planned on showing your face in the magical hotspot, not so soon after the war anyway. Years worth of memories haunted every twist and turn of the street you seemed to own in the moment, light grey stones darkened and slick from the rain completely devoid of any feet other than your own.

You recalled all of the significant moments, each bookmarked by a certain area of the various alleys. Flourish & Blotts; where you’d met your first love all those years ago, at the age of eleven you’d been so bright eyed and sure of the future, sure of him. In the distance you could make out the bright orange exterior of Weasleys’ Wizard wheezes; where you’d walked away from your first love, all those years later however not so long ago that the sight of his legacy, as vibrant and joy inducing as it always had been, didn’t elicit an uncomfortable pang to spring in your chest. As you progressed past Olivander’s, your lips quirked up ever so slightly as the aging paint of the shop expelled all misconceptions you had about the boy who still haunted all of your “What If?”s, the lightly rusting windows screaming at you as if to remind you that, actually, he hadn’t been your first love. Olivander’s Wand Shop had been the true site of your first love and you’d found that first taste of true, pure, untainted love in the form of your phoenix feather core, thirteen inch, English oak wand.

A wistful giggle left your lips, your feet unmoving, rain lashing down aggressively and sliding off the edges of your umbrella, creating streams of water that fell around you but never got close enough to you to so much as dampen your outfit. Losing yourself in the joy of recalling how happy you’d been upon being chosen by your fateful wand, you failed to notice the familiar frame who had made his way to the doorway of the shop. The creaking of the old door pulled you from your thoughts, a dazzlingly grin broke out on your face as Mr. Olivander himself leant against his propped open door, keeping himself dry inside the comfort of his warm shop.

A grin similar to yours adorned his lips as he called out rather loudly over the rain, “I do recall that smile getting you out of quite a bit of trouble, back in your Hogwarts days,” your smile only widened at his recollection.

“To this day it’s the secret to my success,” you beamed jokingly as Olivander shook his head and released a low chuckle. He had no doubt that you’d be going places, ever since the first moment he’d clapped eyes on you he knew you were destined for success, of course, it was also no wonder that bewitching smile of yours had helped you get there. Like your wand; you chose your company carefully, held nothing but passion for the things you craved, were fiercely determined and surprisingly flexible without breaking your morals.

“I also recall thinking you’d grow up to become one of the brightest witches this country had ever seen. It seems as though you proved me right, dear girl,” he spoke with such reverence that you almost wished to cower away from his gaze, however, you held your confident stance and let your smile melt into an adoring grin once more.

“Don’t act as though you had nothing to do with it, sir,” your voice carried through the wall of worsening rain between yourself and the older wizard, “If it hadn’t been for your encouragement during the war, I think I’d have simply given up in the cellar of Malfoy Manor,” it was a dark time, of course it was, it had been a war after all. You supposed, the love you held for your coveted wand extended to the man who had supplied it to you in the first place; Mr. Olivander, he was more than just the slightly daft wand shop owner, he had been- for longer than you cared to remember- your cellmate, the man who had slid you his rations from across the dungeon when you’d faded to nothing but skin on bones, the one who encouraged you to pursue your dreams of becoming a journalist with the hopes of shining light on issues far more important than the ones covered by that roach Rita Skeeter. He was a lot of things, but above all else, he was your friend.

“Now, now dear,” he chastised teasingly, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes as lively now as it had been on the day he was born, and, every day since, “You better be getting to Gringotts. Lots of galleons and sickles to collect I’m sure. Being the head of the Daily Prophet surely keeps those money bags heavy, eh?”

Your laugh echoed through the street one again, your lips which were painted black, supplied him with the very best smile you could possibly muster. “I suppose I should get going. Look after yourself.” Olivander shot you a wink before retreating back into his shop.

A familiar lamp caught your attention, the ghosts of your past passions rising as brutally as the rain fell. You could remember it, clear as day.

His laughter mingled with yours, the hearty belly laughs bellowing through the darkened street as the pair of you stumbled out of The Leaky Cauldron in the early hours of the morning, systems altered by the copious amounts of fire whiskey you’d managed to consume. His hand held yours in a tight grasp, he swung your interconnected arms childishly.

One second you’d been walking and the next he was twirling you around beneath the spotlight of the flickering post above you. Drunkenly, you’d spun your little heart out, spurred on by his slightly slurred, yet somehow sweet, singing. He admired you as you shimmied ahead of him, completely free, fresh out of school and not yet weighed down by the darkness that loomed in the distance. When your eyes caught his you shot him a smile, he knew it well, it was the smile, it shun like sequins when they caught light and he knew it was worth more than all of the gold in Gringotts. You beckoned him over to you with a finger, taking his hand when he got close enough you spun him around and laughed weightlessly.

The feeling of his hands gripping your waist would be imprinted on your skin for as long as you lived, you’d thought, charmed by the look in his brown eyes when you internally swore that you would’ve loved him for a lifetime.

What you didn’t know, as you shook off the phantom hands on your waist, was that he’d seen your eyes that night and despite his heavily intoxicated state, he noted your devotion and even now, when he’d lay awake and think of you; it was that look and that sequinned smile that haunted him. Just as the streets of Diagon Alley haunted you.

Thinking of the sequence of events that led you to walking away from the person you’d honestly believed to be your once in a lifetime, perhaps even your once in twenty lifetimes, or infinite lifetimes, did nothing but torment your already scarred heart. He was always hard to pin down, how could he not be? With a face like his and the world wrapped around his finger, he knew he didn’t have to settle for only one of each thing.

Chasing two girls excited him, at the time. All of the secret keeping, high stakes secret meet ups, illicit affairs and sensual politics had kept him energised. Until the novelty wore off and he was left with nothing but a side-piece whose favourite colour he hadn’t bothered to learn. But he’d known yours, he knew everything about you, he still did. He knew you, he remembered how you’d stared at him, eyes heavy with betrayal and filled to the brim with tears the day you’d confronted him, your bags already packed as you made it clear that; yes, you love him, but no, he couldn’t fix this. No matter how hard he’d fought to change the ending to your fairytale-esq love story, you’d slipped through his fingers like water.

Various knick knacks that had once been yours still lived in his flat, above the shop you’d encouraged him to open, back in school. For weeks, your scent lingered like a tattoo kiss on his skin, his clothes, his bedsheets, his everything as a constant reminder that he’d forced you away. He’d practically paid for your ticket for the last train out of London that day. He told himself that he was only seventeen; what on Earth did he truly know about love? And again he reasoned; he knew you.

Months before the war he swore time and time again that he’d seen your face amongst the busy, condensed crowds of Diagon Alley. On countless occasions he found himself chasing down strangers like a madman, hoping for nothing more than to catch even a glimpse of the woman who made his heart smile as beautifully as she herself did.

Chin tilted upwards as you passed his renowned joke shop, you walked with a sense of importance willing your feet not to stop, but you couldn’t deny the urge you had to check up on him.

The last time you’d seen him, the world around you had been in complete chaos. You’d only just been saved from the months of endless torture you were forced to endure. Nothing like now, you’d been frail and weak and hollow. But still, you’d saved his life. Without a word you’d saved him from being crushed, as if he had been just another person to save, as if he hadn’t shared the most intimate of moments with you, before rushing back off, back into the fray until the battle had been won. That was the last time he’d seen you in the flesh and he ached to see you again- so he could thank you, so he could tell you that he was grateful to be alive but his life wouldn’t be worth half as much if he never got to hold you in his arms again.

The rain smashed unyieldingly against the windows of the shop as he worked on the tills, the shop was unusually empty, nobody willing to do any sort of shopping on a day so miserable. With a bored sigh, he stared out the large window before him, only one woman walked the street, an umbrella struggling to fight off the rain. The raindrops that accumulated on the window blurred his view of the lady’s face but there was no amount of rain in the world that could hide your signature strut of defiance from him.

Quickly he scampered out from behind the counter, “George! Watch the counter!” He screeched, bombing it out the front door while George released a tired sigh, hoping his twin wasn’t regressing back to his chasing strangers phase.

As soon as he’d entered the open air, he was completely soaked to the bone. Your heels clacking like the countdown on a ticking time bomb as Fred stood frozen as few meters behind you. His hair sopping wet, his shirt sticking to his body and his face completely desperate as he called your name.

His heart was beating so aggressively that he was positive you could hear it from up the street. You’d stopped in your tracks upon hearing his voice, your stomach erupting with butterflies while simultaneously dropping in anticipation when you turned to face him.

“You’re here,” he stated dumbly, swallowing the lump in his throat as he took you in. As beautiful as you’d always been, he carefully inched towards you, you stayed rooted in your spot but let him advance on you. The phantom feeling of his strong hands on your waist clouded your judgment and made you long to have him come back to you.

You nodded your head, “I’m here.”

Fred nodded too, exhaling a deep breath now that he was sure he wasn’t imagining your presence as he had countless times before. Before either of you knew it, you were standing within arms length of each other, however, far too unsure to touch. The rain was roaring and Fred began to blink rapidly, the water hitting his eyes ruthlessly before you took a single step forward and saved him from the onslaught of droplets. You were close now, so close Fred could smell your perfume and see every detail of your face. The handle of your spacey umbrella rested in between the both of you, acting like a barrier so he wouldn’t tug you against his shaking form and hug the daylights out of you.

“You never let me say thank you,” he started, tears very quickly forming to mix with the raindrops that slid down his freckled face. “At the battle. If you hadn't been there, Y/n, I would’ve died.”

“Don’t say that,” you begged, you’d mulled the scenario of “what if I’d been too late?” over in your mind, more times than you were willing to admit, and the image of Fred cold and dead, despite how terribly he’d hurt you, made your gut wrench so violently that you thought you might be sick. “I was there. That’s all that matters.”

His brows furrowed and suddenly the hands on your waist weren’t that of a past ghost anymore, they were his; very real and in the moment. “Why didn’t you stay? After you saved me you just ran off, I couldn’t find you after it was over-“ his voice was so vulnerable, it cracked and hitched and you forced yourself to cut him off, your umbrella shaking in your hand.

“Because I didn’t want you to see me like that- the way I was after Harry got the others and I out of Malfoy’s,” you told him honestly, biting back tears as you offered him more elaboration while he shook his head in a frantic sort of disbelief, “I was weak and skeletal, I couldn’t face you. Not when I saw the way you looked at me.”

“I looked at you the same!” He exclaimed and you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Exactly, Fred! I was vulnerable and damaged beyond belief and even after everything- every screaming match, or slammed door or horrible words that we wish we could take back you still looked at me like I was your favourite thing!” You rambled, chest heaving painfully as you tried, uselessly, to keep your building tears at bay. Fred didn’t waste a second before he was pulling the umbrella from you and tossing the thing, that had become more of a hindrance than a help, away from you before he cupped your cheeks urgently.

Rain enveloped the both of you and Fred knew he shouldn’t have been thinking it, but merlin, you seemed to glow in the rain and he acknowledged the fact he’d been aware of all along; you were truly an angel.

“Because you were! You are,” his voice was dripping with honest desperation, “I might not have known anything else back then but I knew I missed you, I knew that hurting you would be the worst thing I ever did and when I saw you that day I knew I still loved you and my life wasn’t worth living if it wasn’t spent with you!” You were at a loss for words at his shouted, emotionally charged confession. His eyes searched yours for the look that haunted him, the promise to love him forever that was hidden beneath your irises and after the next words slipped from his lips, he thought that maybe he’d uncovered it.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make things up to you. You’re quite literally the only reason my heart is beating and I’d sooner actually die than let you go one more second thinking that you aren’t the greatest thing that has ever happened to me in my stupid, idiotic life.”

[ao3feed-dramione]

Harry Potter and the Reaping

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/yheOYx4

by Summerwinds_06

With the Death Eaters rise to power, a new treaty is instilled across 12 countries in order to maintain the "pure-blood" lines of the wizarding world - the price is a yearly reminder that ends in a terrible and brutal blood shed. When Hermione finds herself in the midst of a game she had never dreamed of being apart of, she finds herself finding allies in the most unlikely of places...especially when that unlikely place happens to be the tribute joining her. Of all the places an ally could be, Hermione Granger had never expected it to take the form as Draco Malfoy, nor the promise that she finds herself upholding to him...

Words: 3007, Chapters: 1/18, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of H.P. and the Reaping

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Hunger Games Series - All Media Types

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M

Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, George Weasley, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, Fleur Delacour, Gabrielle Delacour, Corban Yaxley, Fenrir Greyback, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Mrs Granger (Harry Potter), Mr Granger (Harry Potter)

Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Narcissa Black Malfoy

Additional Tags: POV Hermione Granger, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark, Action/Adventure, Making Up, Friendship, Humor, Oblivious Romance, Slow Burn Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger Needs a Hug, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Developing Friendships, Inspired by The Hunger Games, Fights, Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Nightmares, Flashbacks

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/yheOYx4

[vivianweasley]

Just Another Bad Guy (Fred Weasley X Malfoy!Reader)

Summary: You are Draco Malfoy’s twin sister so everyone just assumed that you guys are the same. Not Fred, he knows who you are and loves you for it. But your romance was cut short after you were forced to become a death eater. Could the two of you find your way back to each other after all of this is over?

Pairing: Fred Weasley X Fem!Malfoy!Reader

Warnings: angst to fluff, war, post-war traumas, poor writing

Word count: 4.1K

A/N: I finished this a long time ago but got scared to post it for some reasons. Hope you guys would like it :)

Please do NOT repost my work or translate it on another site without permission! Thank You! Reblogs and comments are always welcome<3

To be honest, no one really knew what kind of person (Y/F/N) Malfoy is. But she’s the twin sister of the infamous Draco Malfoy, so everyone just assumed that they are the same: pure blood and proud pricks.

Including Fred Weasley, or at least before today’s incident.

He was hiding around the corner, watching the trip wire and paint hanging on the ceiling. He was waiting for Draco Malfoy’s twin sister to trip over and cause the green paint to fall on her. The color of her snotty little house would suit her.

But that didn’t happen. He just watched her walk over the trip wire and nothing happened.

After everyone was gone, he quickly ran to check what exactly happened to his prank that he has so meticulously designed. But the next thing he knew, he was covered in green paint.

He heard someone laughing and turned around to see Y/F/N Malfoy standing there.

“What are you looking for Weasley?”

“How did you...”

“Just a freezing charm and an hot-air charm used at the right time and right place.” Some of the green paint got into Fred’s eyes, but he was certain he could see a mischievous smirk on her lips. She bent over a little, as if trying to make sure he could see exactly who used his prank back on him, “I expected better from you, Weasley.”

And then the game was on.

You two started a pranking war while everything seemed to stay normal on the surface. Sometimes Fred would win, but most of the times his pranks would just backfire on him.

Then you two started to actually hangout, like sneaking out at night to prank Mr. Filch or to hangout in the secret passages. But no one knew about this. Maybe not even George.

Fred realized that you were nothing like what he imagined. Under your cold and proud look, there was something mischievous and wild in your heart, but you hid it so well.

Then the Yule ball came around. Fred knew there was something more than friendship between you two and obviously he has dreamed about taking you to the dance. But things were never so easy between you two.

He ended up taking Angelina to the dance. They went as friends. It was basically a group thing. And you went with a Slytherin boy in your year.

But both of you thought it would be a waste if the rest of the night was just like this. You exchanged looks while dancing with your Yule ball dates and snuck out on cue.

You met up at your usual hangout place, the astronomy tower.

He smiled, offering his hand, “Y/N Malfoy, may I have this dance?”

“You may, Weasley.” You smiled, taking his hand.

He pulled you closer to him and started dancing. There was no music, but you were humming a melody you loved.

The cold winter wind brought you closer and closer. Your humming was even better than music in Fred’s ears. Everything felt just right.

And you kissed, under the starry night.

No words were needed. You could tell how each other felt through the passionate kiss you shared.

------

But you were still a Malfoy after all.

Fred swore he felt like his heart was ripped apart when he learned that you became a death eater, just like your family. He snuck into the school for he wanted to see you again before the big war hit.

“I know you don’t want to do this, Y/N. You don’t have to do this! You can run away, just run away from all of this! Please!” He pulled you into a deserted hallway and tried to scream some sense out of you.

But your expression was cold, your family’s signature distant and proud look that you put on all the time, “Who do you think you are, telling me what to do?” Your voice was even colder, “You’re just another stupid Weasley.” 

There it was, you said it, the words that was going to haunt Fred for years. Even though he absolutely denied it.

And the war hit. You were on opposite sides. It was brutal. Screaming, blood, and corpses everywhere.

Fred fought with all his strength. After successfully taking out three death eaters, he saw the wall behind him falling onto him. It was too close and too late to run or cast any spell. He closed his eyes. Could this be the end?

But nothing happened. Someone casted protego shielding him from the falling wall, giving him enough time to escape. He looked around, but no one was there.

Knowing that he now owed his life to someone, he fought even harder, until Voldemort finally met his end.

From that day on, Fred never saw you again. He would still think about you of course, but he would soon try to think about something or someone else when those horrible words that you said hit him again.

He knew that you became a writer and published your memoir when people’s hate for former death eaters faded out a little. He has read your book secretly on his lunch breaks in Flourish and Blotts. The book was simply stating what happened and it wasn’t too emotional overall. But just stating the simple facts was enough to let the readers know that the Malfoy twins were not as evil as they thought they were.

All you grew up with was ideas like “pure bloods are the superiors” and “we must follow the Dark Lord”. You never had any choices and even if you had, it was a simple choice: you do what you’re told to do or you’ll get your family killed. And deep down, Fred always knew that. He sometimes would wonder could it be possible that you said those words because you knew the two of you won’t ever have a chance of a happy ending? Could it be possible that you said those words to protect him?

And one thing that definitely caught Fred’s attention was the title of your book, “Just Another Bad Guy”. The wording looked awfully familiar to him, making him wonder could be possible that you also couldn’t forget those cruel words you said to him, calling him “just another stupid Weasley”?

But he also found that you have never mentioned anything about the Weasleys in your book. Was it because you were sorry for what you have said? Or was it because that his family was too embarrassing for you to even mention?

It had been 8 years after the war now. Today, the old Hogwarts classmates decided to meet up again. It was nice seeing so many familiar faces, but Fred knew that there was just one person, who he might never see again.

The dinner party went well. People were catching up and remembering the good old days at Hogwarts. Everyone seemed to be doing well, having a steady job and even starting a family now.

Then people started talking about your book. Fred was suddenly on guard, as if he was ready to argue with or even fight anybody who was going to talk shit about you. But then he realized, what role was he playing in this whole situation anyway?

To Fred’s surprise, people were actually taking nicely about you. He was feeling almost gratified that people actually took the time to read your work. It was beautifully written after all.

“I always knew she wasn’t so bad,” said Luna, “I saw her protecting a student during the battle. Who was it though?”

Luna’s dreamy voice hit Fred hard like a bludger that he dropped his fork. 

The noise caught Luna’s attention and suddenly made her faded memory resurface, “I remembered! It was Fred! She saved Fred!”

Everyone was staring at Fred now. He laughed awkwardly and replied, “Guess Malfoy isn’t just another bad guy then.”

And Fred remained rather quiet for the rest of the night. He was quiet enough for everyone who knew Fred Weasley to be worried about him, but luckily, people probably just thought that he was shocked that a Malfoy saved his life.

But George knew, even though Fred has never told him. He knew all about his twin’s little adventures with you back in school. He knew about Fred’s worries after knowing that the Malfoy’s are death eaters. He knew his brother would secretly read your book. And he knew that you were on Fred’s mind, even after all these years.

------

After the war, you went back to Hogwarts to finish your last year of school. But besides going to classes, you would just hide in your dorm and you would even eat in the Slytherin kitchen instead of going to the Great Hall to avoid seeing anyone.

You couldn’t face the students who lost their families and friends during the war. Whenever they were looking at you, it felt like they were asking you to pay. And you just couldn’t face the Weasleys. After what you’ve done and said, how could you? Those words kept replaying in your head and you already lost counts on how many nights you’ve lost sleep on that matter. 

After you’ve finally finished your seven years of education, you moved to a quiet countryside. You decided that instead of trying to forget, you should learn how to face and live with those memories and that’s why you started to write them down. At first, you could only write some harmless stories from the first or second year at Hogwarts. Then when you got used to pouring your heart out through writing, you started to write about memories about the war. 

But some memories you just couldn’t manage to write down, even though they were haunting you everyday. That was the memories about Fred Weasley. So you decided to not write about the Weasleys at all, pretending like you’ve never met any of them. If you never met him, then there won’t be losing him, right?

You knew that Fred was the only one who could let you be yourself, who could light that fire within you. But now you’ve lost him, you’ve lost that fire, and you’ve lost yourself. 

Fortunately, with the help of time, you were getting better. Especially when Scorpius was born, you felt like you suddenly saw a sense of vitality and liveliness in your life. You wanted to teach him how to love this world, even though you were still learning. You wanted to go on so many adventures with him, even though you were still not brave enough to step out yet.

You also finally decided to organize and publish your memoir. You were still nervous, but you thought you were finally ready to try. 

And this was already 7 years after the war. 

------

It has been 13 years after the war now. For some reasons, Fred was the only one in the family that hasn’t got married yet. He was still working in the Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes. Their little joke shop has already became the most popular joke shop in the entire European wizarding world with many branch stores. But Fred’s favorite was still the original one located at No.93 Diagon Alley.

It was a lovely Saturday afternoon today, so Fred decided to give himself a break and popped into the Leaky Cauldron.

But as soon as he stepped inside, the sight of a woman with platinum hair at the counter captured his attention. He knew too well who that was.

You turned around a little and Fred saw your face. You were still beautiful, he thought. But the pride and sharpness on your face, which he both loved and hated so much, ceased to exist.

Before Fred could even process his action, he approached you, “What are you looking for, Malfoy?” That was the first words you have ever said to him and he was really surprised that he still remembered that after all these years.

You were startled when you realized it was Fred, but you soon regained your calm. “Weasley,” you nodded at him, “I’m just...waiting for someone.”

He nodded, taking the seat next to you, “So how’s it going?”

“Not much,” you said lightly, “but you must've been busy, with the business going so well.”

“So you’ve been paying attention to me?” he smirked. 

“I don’t have to Fred, the huge figure of you in front of the joke shop is basically screaming for attention every time I stepped into Diagon Alley.” you laughed. Fred’s heart fluttered when he heard you calling his name. It has been too long, but it felt just like the first time.

“Look what I’ve found!” a little boy was screaming and running towards you. Fred couldn’t help but noticed the boy’s platinum hair and grey eyes that matched yours. The boy showed you the fake wand in his hand and you gently combed his hair with your fingers.

“Is that your boy?” Fred asked, feeling unreasonably nervous somehow. So many years have gone by, you were 31 now for Merlin’s sake. Why would he be surprised if you have already got married and had a son.

“Oh no, this is Scorpius, Draco’s son. I’m just here to pick him up for Draco. He’s busy today.”

Scorpius clearly has noticed the man who was talking to his aunt. Suddenly, he looked at Fred surprised with his eyes wide opened and shouted, “You’re the tall, red-headed man that auntie always talks about!”

Now it was Fred’s turn to look surprised. Then he smirked, “So you have talked about me? A lot?”

“Oh please, you’re not the only ‘tall, red-headed man’ in the world alright?” you laughed awkwardly.

“So it must be just another stupid Weasley, ay?” he asked, making use of those once haunting words.

“Yea that’s right! Weasley! Fred Weasley! That’s his name!” Suddenly Scorpius shouted, finally remembered what he was trying to remember this whole time, “You’re the owner of that joke shop! Are you coming up with new products, Mr. Weasley? Can I please take a look at them?”

Fred raised his eyebrows and looked at you without even needing to state his question.

“Oh Merlin, Draco must be waiting for us. We have to go now! Come on Scorpius!” Your cheeks were flushed and you tried to drag poor Scorpius with you as you ran for the exit.

But you heard Fred saying, “I’ve missed you Y/N. It might sound pathetic I know, but I think about you everyday. Merlin, everyday for the past decade! To this point, I’m pretty convinced that you’ve put a spell on me when you left.” 

You thought you could only hear him saying that in your wildest dreams. You turned around, tears were forming in your eyes. Fred was pretty sure that was the first time he has ever saw you cry.

“I’ve missed you too.”

(Part 2) Just Another Weasley

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