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#side pairing: theo x ginny
angelfic · 1 year
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— IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU BABY
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pairing: mattheo riddle x nott!reader
summary: you weren't quite used to the attention of other boys, and it seems your brother's best friend isn't too fond of it either
warnings: brother's best friend trope!! swearing, kissing, not much else, very much unedited
author’s note: i don't tend to stray outside of the marauders era characters buuuut i've been a bit obsessed with mattheo and theo recently so this was for my own selfish needs lol as always let me know what you think!!
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He had barely looked away from you all evening.
You knew the only reason Mattheo’s eyes had been fixed on you for the entirety of dinner was because of a certain type of attention you had unconsciously garnered on your first day back at school. Particularly male attention. It wasn’t any less disconcerting, however, knowing that your brother’s best friend was prepared to fist fight any potential romantic advances towards you because he was just as protective as your actual older sibling.
Your brother Theodore is no better, a displeased frown appearing every five minutes when he looks over to where you sit at the Gryffindor table.
“Merlin, boys are pathetic,” Ginny mutters, spearing a potato with her fork. “You go away for one summer and come back slightly prettier and they flock to you like bees to honey!” You’re about to weakly protest that she’s exaggerating, but at that exact moment you’re interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.
You slowly turn on the bench, reluctantly lowering your goblet of pumpkin juice to face Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw boy who you’d only ever spoken to when he was going out with Ginny.
“Hi, Michael,” you sigh, offering him a bland smile.
“Hello, Nott,” Michael replies, with what he probably thinks is a winning smile. “Had a good summer? I was just going to ask if you wanted to go on the first Hogsmeade visit of the term with me.”
You stare at him, unblinking. “Er- well, as… nice as that sounds,” you say slowly, not meaning a word. You glance at Ginny as pointedly as you can manage and raise an eyebrow. “I don’t quite relish the idea of going out with my best friend’s ex.”
“Oh! I, erm, I didn’t actually see you there, Ginny,” he stammers, laughing sheepishly. “My mistake.”
“Quite,” Ginny says drily, turning back to her plate of food.
“Well, er, see you later then,” Michael mumbles, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes back to the Ravenclaw table.
You bite your lip to stifle your giggles but it’s not long before you catch Ginny’s eye and the both of you erupt into fits of laughter.
“I can’t believe I ever went out with him,” Ginny groans, wiping her eyes.
“Was he always such a tosser or is that new?” you ask, snorting at the way Ginny scrunches up her face in embarrassment.
You’re still laughing when your eyes happen to pass over the Slytherin table just to focus on Mattheo.
You notice with a jolt that he’s looking at you again. This time, his eyes flick over to the Ravenclaw table for a second where Michael has settled back onto, then back to you and he quirks a brow quizzically.
Frowning, you mouth at him to stop in hopes that he ceases his scrutiny, just for him to roll his eyes and return to whatever one-sided conversation Blaise Zabini was attempting to engage him in. You hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel after realising Mattheo has just witnessed such an embarrassing encounter, but you’ve found over the years that you’re not the best at hiding the effects he has on you. Theo has never mentioned it in front of Mattheo as far as you’re aware, but he definitely hasn’t shied away from teasing you about the childhood crush you have on your brother’s closest friend. Not that you’ve ever admitted it to him anyway, and you’ve gotten a lot better at hiding it since nothing could ever come of it.
“Your brother and Riddle have been looking like they’re ready to halve the male population of Hogwarts since we got on the bloody train,” Ginny says, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Tell me about it,” you sigh, cutting into your carrot a little more viciously than needed. “They keep looking over at our table. I feel like I’m on one of those Muggle reality television programmes Hermione was telling your dad about the other week.”
Arthur Weasley was absolutely transfixed when he was learning about reality television from Hermione during breakfast the week you both stayed at The Burrow, and although you zoned out after his sixteenth question about a singular programme, you feel as though you caught the gist of it.
“Hm,” Ginny agrees, grimacing at the memory. She had nodded off at the table during that conversation and fallen asleep on her slice of toast. “In fairness, that’s not really a new thing.”
“What, being watched by my two guard dogs?” you ask in a mock-serious voice.
“Yeah, but…” Ginny chews thoughtfully for a second before answering. “I’m not just talking about today, or even recently. Your brother mostly minds his own business. I’m talking about Riddle. He’s always looking at you, I noticed it last year. Wherever we are, kind of like he’s checking up on you,” she says like it’s common knowledge, shrugging. “It’s sweet, I guess.”
You blink at her, a little speechless.
“What?” Ginny frowns after a few seconds of your silence. You look at her with raised eyebrows, not really taking her seriously. In your first few years at Hogwarts, you had confided in Ginny regarding your silly, little girl feelings for Mattheo and she would read into every action he took towards you in an attempt to prove he liked you too. Obviously, he saw you as nothing but a younger sister figure and once you grew up a bit, Ginny had let it go too.
Ginny reads your dubious expression now and sets down her knife and fork to cross her arms. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m serious! I’m not just saying it because you were helplessly in love with him until you were, like, fourteen.”
“Shush!” you hiss, thwacking her arm. “Why don’t you just get up on stage with Dumbledore and ask him to include that titbit of information for the entire school to hear in his speech!”
“Good idea,” she says, nodding seriously and starting to get up. You know she’s just teasing, but you start spluttering and frantically grab at her sleeve to sit her back down, causing her to topple onto you slightly. This sets you both off laughing again and you find it hard to stop for the rest of dinner and desert, thankfully staying far away from the topic of Mattheo. You also pointedly avoid looking at him again.
Once dinner is over, you head to the Gryffindor common room with the rest of your house and catch up with everyone for a while. After a couple hours of socialising and fifteen minutes of helping Neville Longbottom search for his pet toad, you head up to your dorm with Ginny and Lena, one of your other dormmates, to unpack.
As soon as you open your luggage, you search for your pyjamas and immediately change out of your robes and into a t-shirt and baggy shorts for comfort. You’re in the middle of unpacking some textbooks when you hear Lena whistle from behind you.
“I do not remember those pyjamas looking like that,” Lena comments, grinning at you. Rolling your eyes, you comply with her request to do a little spin and you can’t help feeling pleased when Lena and Ginny start whooping and hollering. “You’ve always been gorgeous, but you really grew up this summer, huh? Look at those legs!”
“Tell me about it,” Ginny pipes in, flopping down on her bed and abandoning her unpacked suitcase. “She came to stay for a week and Mum looked like she was going to cry every time she saw us. Something about ‘blossoming into young ladies’ or whatever bollocks.”
“You ‘blossomed’ last year,” you point out, and Lena hums in agreement. “I haven’t forgotten how Zacharias Smith fell off his broom trying to wave at you during Quidditch practice.”
Ginny groans and starts ranting about teenage boys again. Lena joins in and starts teasing her about how Harry Potter is the only boy she hasn’t complained about and you’re about to set down your belongings to help Lena dodge the pillows Ginny is throwing at her when a flash of green and silver in your suitcase catches your eye.
“Shite, I have Theo’s uniform,” you huff, grabbing the clothes out of your suitcase and sliding your slippers on. “That means he has mine and I am not dealing with this at seven in the morning. I’m gonna go drop this off, be back in a minute.”
Ginny says goodbye before resuming her pillow attack on Lena as you make your way out of the room and down into the common room. It’s nearly empty, with most people having gone to their rooms to pack and a quick glance at the clock tells you its past curfew. You decide to take the risk since you have a reasonable excuse, but you hope that if you do get caught, it isn’t by Filch or Snape.
By the time you’ve reached the dungeons, you thank Merlin that Theo had the sense to tell you the password for the Slytherin common room before dinner in case of emergency.
“Pureblood,” you mutter, fighting the urge to scoff when the door swings open. You enter the common room and brighten up when you see that the only students still hanging around are Theo and his friends. Your brother seems to have already started unpacking since he’s standing and holding your uniform, presumably about to come and find you. His friends all mumble polite ‘hello’s and he walks up to you with a smile.
“Oh, hey, I was just-” Theo cuts himself off when he properly looks at you and frowns. “Wha- Why are you wearing pyjamas out and about?”
“You’re wearing pyjamas too!” you exclaim, slightly embarrassed that your brother is doing this in front of your friends. They all turn to look at you again, hearing the indignation in Theo’s voice and you notice Mattheo suddenly sits up straighter. Suddenly aware of your bare legs, you tug down the material of your shorts, despite the fact they aren’t even very short to begin with.
“Oi. Stop looking at my sister!”” Theo snaps, glaring at Blaise, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. You know the only reason they glanced at you in the first place is out of curiosity regarding Theo’s question, but Theo and Mattheo scowl at them all the same and they all start sputtering, Draco in particular when Pansy narrows her eyes at him. Theo sighs at you, quickly exchanging your uniforms. “Just- at least take something to cover up back to your room.”
“I’ll walk her back,” Mattheo says, out of nowhere. He stands up and makes his way over to you, face carefully blank. Theo nods, agreeing quickly before he ruffles your hair goodbye to go and finish packing. You’re too surprised by Mattheo’s offer to protest until you’re already out of the Slytherin common room.
“I don’t need someone to walk me back, you know,” you mumble after a minute of charged silence.
“It was either me or Theo,” he shrugs, completely unapologetic when his mouth quirks up in a smug smile. “And I know you prefer me.”
“You’re both equally annoying,” you say, rolling your eyes, happy that he’s talking to you like normal again. You hated it whenever Mattheo was serious – it was rarely ever towards you and you much preferred when his whole face lit up with a smile. He begins to tease you about your bunny rabbit slippers and you’re in the middle of pretending to be irked when you both run into Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff prefect doing patrol duties.
“Hey,” Ernie offers you a friendly smile and gives Mattheo a brief, slightly nervous glance. While you prefer not to get into trouble for breaking curfew, Mattheo clearly couldn’t care less and his relaxed, yet intimidating stance must be off-putting to Ernie. Thankfully, you’re on friendly terms with the Hufflepuff and you give him an even brighter smile to make up for it, to which he beams at. “How was your summer?”
“Good, yeah! Erm, listen Ernie. We didn’t mean to be out at this time, it’s just that I accidentally had my brother’s uniform and needed to-”
“Oh, forget it. Don’t worry, I won’t dock you any points,” Ernie reassures you, waving off your excuses and you instantly relax. Ernie gives Mattheo another unsure glance before leaning in the tiniest bit closer to you. You try not to pay attention to how Ernie has been glancing at your legs and how Mattheo tenses up when Ernie starts speaking again. “I was actually wondering if you were available next weekend…?”
Ernie trails off when you don’t show any indication of replying straight away and you snap out of your surprise to say something, but Mattheo beats you to it.
“She’s busy then,” he says coldly, working his jaw. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late. Kindly get lost.”
“Wha- Matt!” you hiss, smacking his chest to which he barely flinches, nor does he look at all apologetic. “Ernie, I-”
“Never mind,” he says quickly, seemingly eager to just leave. “I’ll, er, see you later.”
You stand frozen in shock while Ernie rushes down the corridor and turns the corner, leaving you and Mattheo alone. Turning slowly, you look at him with barely contained anger.
“Why the hell did you do that?” you demand, voice sharp as nails. If it weren’t past curfew and you weren’t in the middle of a school corridor, you would most definitely be yelling. Mattheo stands with his hands in his pockets, clenching his jaw and his silence makes you even angrier. You accepted long ago that you’d never have a chance with him, but now he was getting in the way of you having a chance with anyone. It was completely unfair. “What if I actually wanted to go out with him?!”
Mattheo scowls at this, but his impossibly dark brown eyes flash with a hint of uncertainty. “Did you?”
“What?” you ask, impatient.
“Did you want to go out with him?” he says, voice low and dangerous. He walks forward, towering over you and you refuse to be intimidated so you start walking backward until your back is against the wall. Despite having cornered you, he maintains a fair amount of distance between you, leaving plenty of space if you want to move away. You don’t.
“That’s none of your business,” you say stubbornly, raising your chin and trying your best to keep your voice steady. Mattheo narrows his eyes and reduces the distance between you ever so slightly with another small step. You nervously keep talking. “I can go out with whoever I want.” Another step. “And you can’t just-” One more step. “Matt.” His shoes are flush with your slippers.
“What?” he whispers, tilting his head and looking at you calmly, while you feeling anything but calm. “I can’t just… what?”
The previously respectable distance has gone out the window and instead you barely have space to breathe with the way Mattheo is leaning in, head dipped toward you but never touching, hands resting on the wall either side of you. He leans in, eyes dropping to your lips and your heart leaps in your chest with anticipation, but he ghosts his lips over your jaw instead and the barely-there contact has you breathing unevenly.
“You can’t…” you exhale, trying to finish your sentence with some dignity and failing miserably. “You can’t just scare people off like an overprotective older brother.”
Mattheo stills, lifting his head enough to meet your eyes, but making no move to distance himself any further. He scoffs quietly. “Brother,” he says the word with a mildly disgusted scowl. “Is that what you think I want to be?”
“I- I don’t…”
“You don’t know,” Mattheo finishes for you, the corners of his mouth turning up, yet his expression is devoid of humour. “No, you don’t know how badly I wanted to hex Macmillan just now. How badly I wanted to try out some new, experimental spells on that fucking Ravenclaw earlier. But none of that had anything to do with brotherly feelings.”
“They were just being nice,” you say stupidly, with not a clue in the world as to why you’re defending them right now. If anything, you’re just confused.
Mattheo quirks a brow, tongue pressing against his cheek as he considers your words. “That Ravenclaw from earlier was talking about you on the train. He said he was going to ask you out at dinner because you’d ‘gotten hot’ over summer,” Mattheo sneers, like he’s suddenly regretting not hexing Michael Corner in the Great Hall. “They weren’t being nice.”
All of a sudden, you feel irritated because you have no idea why Mattheo is telling you any of this. “What’s wrong with a boy finding me attractive? Is that such a crazy idea?” you demand, part of you not wanting him to answer.
“Merlin, do I seriously have to say it?” he groans, sighing when you glare at him. Mattheo takes a breath, meeting your eyes and you marvel at the sincerity you see when he speaks. “You didn’t ‘get hot’ over the summer. You’ve always been beautiful and they’re idiots for not paying attention then.”
Your breath catches in your throat, whether it’s from emotion or from the close proximity with Mattheo, you aren’t sure. “You think I’m beautiful?”
Mattheo nods, leaning back in to brush his nose against your own, his breath mingling with yours. “Always have.”
You take this as a cue to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in and the next thing you know, his mouth is firm against yours, and his hands are finally touching you, grabbing you by the waist and sliding up your back to hold you closer. You’ve thought about kissing Mattheo before, but the thoughts feel utterly stupid compared to the real thing. Mattheo kisses you fiercely, mouth sliding hot and wet against your own making you come alive and weakening you at the same time. He nips at your bottom lip and you gasp, causing him to smile into the kiss. Your hands are sliding up his chest to snake around his neck when a thought suddenly occurs to you and you pull away abruptly.
“Oh my God, Theodore,” you hiss, covering your mouth with your hand. Mattheo furrows his brows, looking a little dazed and confused. “What are we going to tell him?”
 “He knows I’ve loved you since we were kids,” Mattheo says flippantly, waving you off and impatiently starting to lean in again, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “What?”
“You’ve loved me since we were kids?” The words hardly register, but before you can feel any sort of elation, you mostly feel pissed off that your brother has clearly had his fun with the situation for years. “And Theo knows?”
“Yes,” Mattheo says slowly, as if he were talking to a child. He brushes the hair out of your face and his gaze turns a little uncertain when he speaks. “Er, this is hopefully the part where you say you feel the same way.”
“Well, of course I feel the same way,” you huff, still thoroughly annoyed at Theo. “He knew I was crazily in love with you too and the bastard was so irritating about it!”
You’re about three quarters of the way down a list of ways you want to get back at your brother when Mattheo gently turns your face by the chin to look at him. “As much as I’d love for you to plot against your brother right now, it’s kind of a mood killer thinking about him when I’m kissing you.”
“Sorry, sorry. Continue with the kissing.”
“How romantic,” he says drily. His smirk turns smug, however, when he processes your previous statement. “So… you were in love with me too. What was the word you used, again? Crazily? Crazily in love…”
“Don’t make me take it back, ‘cause I swear I will.”
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© angelfic 2023.
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cloudybarnes · 1 year
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new beginnings
Pairing: theodore nott x reader
Summary: after theo very unexpectantly breaks up with you, you try your best to pick yourself back up and move on. theo, on the other hand, seems to be having a harder time of that.
Word Count: 2.2k+
Masterlist
part two :)
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✰  ✰  ✰
“(Y/N), you’ve got to get out of bed at some point.” Hermione said. She was sitting on the side of your bed while you laid fully wrapped under the covers. Hermione gently tugged the blanket down from your chin, but you whined a little in protest. 
“‘Mione, I seriously can’t do this yet.”
Theo, your boyfriend of over a year had broken up with you only a few short days ago. You’d been in bed ever since, heartbroken over what could have been. 
“(Y/N), I know you’re upset, but you have to get up. I can’t let you live the rest of your life in bed! Don’t you know how badly your bum would hurt from laying all of your life?” Hermione joked. 
A small smile grew on your lips. “Yeah, that would be pretty tragic. I have too nice of a butt to let that happen.”
Hermione laughed. “There she is! I’ve missed your little jokes. Ron and Harry have become quite boring without you around. I think they’re worried about you.” 
You groaned. “Nooo. I hate when people worry about me. It’s just so awkward when I have to be like ‘I’m fine’, ‘no really, I’m fine’.”
Hermione shrugged. “Well, are you?”
You sighed, pulling the covers down from your chin. You looked up at her, a forlorn look on your face. “Definitely not, but I suppose you’re right. I don’t want to be stuck in here for the rest of my life. I just, I just don’t think I can handle seeing him right now.”
Hermione looked at you sadly. “I know. I hate seeing you so upset like this. God, what I would do to put a hex on that boy. He’s quite deserving of it, I would say. Maybe a rat’s tail, or a snake tongue.”
You giggled and sat up in bed. “Or how about we make him bald, or worse, blonde.” 
Hermione laughed at that. “Oh, Godric, then we’d have another Draco running around. I don’t think I could handle that.”
“Me either,” you laughed. Slowly, your smile dropped. “I just hate him. Well, no, I don’t hate him. And I hate that! I hate that even after breaking my heart I still love him and long for him.”
Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry, (Y/N/N), I wish I could say something or do something to make this better, I just really don’t know what.”
You shrugged, “yeah, it is what it is. It’s not your fault he’s an ass.”
She chuckled. “So, what do you say? You wanna try to get down to the great hall before dinner starts? I’m sure the guys would like to see you again.” 
You thought it over for a minute. You really had missed your friends. Other than Hermione, you’d ostracized yourself from everyone just to avoid Theo. 
But were you really ready to see him again? You didn’t think you would ever be ready to see him again. 
“You know what,” you stated, “I am gonna go to dinner tonight. And I’m gonna ignore him and see my friends who I’ve missed and ignore the hell out of him because he’s an ass and why should I be the one who has to stay in bed all day?”
“Woohoo!” Hermione cheered. “You’re amazing, let’s get you showered and dressed. I hate to say it, but if you’re gonna get back into the world, you need to wash your hair.” 
You chuckled as you picked up a piece of hair to inspect it. “Yeah, okay. Shower first, look really pretty, eat dinner, come back. Piece of cake.” 
You pushed the covers off of you as Hermione stood from the bed. 
She said, “I’m gonna grab your clothes, so just get in the shower. We shouldn’t be too late to dinner that way.”
You nodded and headed to the bathroom. You were gonna go in there, socialize with your friends, reassure them you were fine, and everything would go back to normal. You hoped. 
✰  ✰  ✰
“(Y/N)!” Ginny shouted as you and Hermione made it to the Gryffindor table. She stood up from her seat and pulled you right into a hug. 
Releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding, you smiled and held her even tighter in the hug. Ginny was an amazing friend to you. She had tried her best to see you, but you didn’t let anyone in. Only Hermione since she shared the room with you. 
Pulling away, Ginny dragged you to sit down next to her. Hermione followed suit and sat on the other side of you. “Oh, we’ve missed you so much, (Y/N/N). We’ve all been so worried about you, haven’t we?”
Harry and Ron sat across from you. They both nodded their heads, agreeing with Ginny. 
“Yeah, what an ass,” Ron scoffed. “Honestly, someone needs to knock that bloke down from his high horse. He doesn’t know what he’s missing, (Y/N/N).”
“Yeah,” Harry replied as he pushed some mashed potatoes in his mouth. “Theodore is a walking red flag. I for one am not sorry for him. He lost a good girl and he’s gonna regret what he’s done.”
You smiled at them. “Yeah, I am pretty awesome. Thanks guys.”
They chuckled and continued eating. Merlin knows those two could eat an entire quidditch field full of food. 
“Ahem,” a throat cleared from behind you. 
Turning around, you saw Enzo standing there sheepishly. 
“Uh,” he stuttered, “hey, (Y/N).” 
“Oh,” you said. “Uh, hi Enzo. Do you need something?” You couldn’t hide the crack in your voice. Damn it.
Enzo was probably your favorite of Theo's friends. He was always the one you had most in common with, and therefore connected with pretty easily. You’d never hung out one on one, so you couldn’t really say he was your friend. 
“I-no I don’t need something, per say. I just wanted to talk to you. Alone, if, uh, that’s alright.” 
You looked back at your friends, unsure if you should talk with him or not. They all seemed to be the same amount of weary as you were, but you were intrigued. 
“I don’t really want to talk to Theo, if that’s what this is.”
Enzo shook his head. “No! Ahem, no. I wanted to talk to you. To, uh, apologize kind of? I don’t know. It’s fine if you don’t wanna talk to me, this was silly, I’m sorry-“
“It’s fine, Enzo,” you cut off his rambling. “I’ll speak with you.” You looked back at your friends as you stood up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”
They nodded their heads as you let Enzo lead you away from the table and out the door. 
Once you two stood out in the hallway, Enzo kind of just shuffled his feet around, almost as if he was shying away from talking to you. 
“Am I supposed to say something first?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“No, sorry,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just feel a little awkward. I know what happened between you and Theo, but I guess I just hoped that didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends anymore.”
Your eyes softened a little at his confession. Enzo’s cheeks blushed a little as you stared at him. 
You sighed. You and Enzo really had been good friends, and you weren’t exactly keen on losing his friendship. 
“I mean,” he continued, “you’re the only one who doesn’t make fun of my poetry, you’re the one I go to when I want to talk about books or get recommendations from, and I just would hate to lose our friendship just because I’m friends with Theo as well.”
Your heart melted. “Enzo, of course I still want to be friends with you. I will admit, I was a little nervous you wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore after Theo broke up with me. I really enjoy being your friend.”
Enzo smiled in relief. “Oh good. I thought this would be more awkward and a little bit more sad than how it’s actually going.”
You giggled. “Thank god. I don’t know what I would have done if I just had a real breakup as well as a friendship breakup.”
Enzo smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, I am really sorry about that. I don’t know why he would ever break up with you in the first place. You’re so kind, and I thought you brought the best out in him.”
You forced an awkward smile. You really did not want to be talking about Theo right now, especially not about how you made him a better person. 
Before you could reply, a voice yelled out from behind you. 
“Oi!”
Turning around, you could see Theo storming up towards you and Enzo. 
“What the fuck, mate?” Theo huffed as he got in between you and Enzo. 
“Woah!” You shouted, backing up as Theo got up into Enzo’s face.  “Theo, what are you doing?”
He ignored you and kept talking to Enzo. “Are you hitting on my girlfriend? Right after all the shit we just went through?”
“What?” Enzo squeaked. “I’m not hitting on her, I was just talking to her.”
You were pissed. Your fists balled up at your sides as you stomped up to Theo. You grabbed onto his shoulder and yanked him away from Enzo. Theo didn’t see it coming, so he stumbled and fell back a couple of steps. 
“Get the hell away from him,” you growled. “And what the fuck is wrong with you, Theodore?” 
You got between Theo and Enzo, pushing your finger into your ex-boyfriend’s chest accusingly. 
“First,” you said, “you break up with me, break my heart, and then you have the fucking nerve to come up here all righteous and accuse Enzo of whatever the fuck you said, all while calling me your girlfriend when you’re the asshole who broke up with me!”
You glared at Theo, watching as his anger turned soft. “I am not your girlfriend anymore, Theodore Nott. You’re the one who made that happen, so you have no fucking right to come up in my conversations acting like I owe you anything.” 
“(Y/N),” he softly said. “I… I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have come out here all crazy. I just, I hate seeing you with anyone else, even if it’s one of my friends.” 
He turned to talk to Enzo, “I’m sorry, mate. Will you give us a few minutes?” 
Enzo nodded his head and gave you an awkward smile before heading back into the dining hall. 
You huffed, settling down a little as you stared at Theo. 
He looked tired. His eyes had circles underneath them, and his cheeks didn’t have their usual flush to them. He was as gorgeous as ever, but he looked drained. 
“You don’t look so good,” you pointed out, trying to sound nonchalant. 
Theo frowned and softly said, “neither do you.”
Your lips pulled tight in a frown. Theo didn’t need to know how much he had affected you with the breakup. 
You sighed, “what are you doing, Theo?”
He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “I, uh, I’m not really sure. I just didn’t like seeing you with Enzo.”
“Why? You broke up with me.”
Theo huffed, “I don’t know. I just don’t like seeing you with anyone else. It still feels like I’m supposed to be there. Like I’m supposed to be the one with you. I miss you.”
You shook your head as hurt started to creep back into your heart. “Don’t say things like that to me, Theo. Not after what you did. I loved you, and you broke up with me out of nowhere for no good reason, either.”
“I’m sorry,” he tried to reach for you, but you shrugged off his hand. “I don’t know why I did what I did. I just know that I regret it like crazy. I want to be with you, (Y/N). I’ve always wanted to be with you, I was stupid to let you go. Can you forgive me?”
Your lips pulled tight. “Theo, I can’t just get back with you like this.” You said. “I don’t trust you anymore. You broke my heart, and broke my trust. You gave me no reason for the breakup, so who’s to say it won’t happen right after we get back together?”
He shook his head. “Dolcezza, no. I won’t do that to you, not again. What can I do to prove this to you?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t get back with you. Not like this, and not so soon. You really hurt me, Theo.”
“Well, what if we try being friends at least?” He suggested. 
“You wanna be my friend?”
“No,” he said immediately. “But I’ll settle for being your friend for as long as it takes to win you back.” 
Your heart warmed at what he had said. Maybe you could try being friends with him. He did really hurt you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. 
“Okay,” you decided, “I’ll give you a chance to be my friend. Don’t hurt me again, Theodore, or I’ll get Ginny on you.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get my baby back. I can promise you that.” 
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weasleyreidstyles · 9 months
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Serendipity
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chapter two
summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.
no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.
pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader
warning(s): slight mind manipulation?
series masterlist; previous part; next part
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At some point during the feast, you managed to sneak your way onto the Gryffindor table, sliding into the seat beside Ginny, who was sat with Dean Thomas to her other side, who shifted uncomfortably everytime Ron glared at the hand that was grazing his sister's.
"Nice face, Harold." you say sarcastically. "Who healed the break? It looks rushed."
"Thanks Meadow." he snarks before deflating further in his seat as your eyes tracked him for more injuries. "Tonks walked me from the train."
You hummed in acknowledgment before you went over the unhealed scabs and dried patches of blood with wordless spells which always left your friends marvelling at your skill.
"There. Now your face is pretty as ever." you say smirking, patting Harry's cheek which he swats away. "Can't have the 'Chosen One' at his worst now, can we?"
"Piss off." he grumbled but it was only banter between two friends.
"How are you, really, Harry? Where'd you disappear to on the train." you wanted to hear him say it, even if you did trust Theo's word.
"I was right about Malfoy-" he starts before you interrupt him.
"So I've heard. You've taken up stalking as a hobby now, Potter? That's low." you chuckle, which turns into a full on laugh as he glares at you, annoyed.
"He's a Death Eater." he lowers his voice, but his admission sucks the happiness right out of the air. "He was talking about some task that Voldemort has for him."
He pauses as if his mind is trying to catch up with the words tumbling from his mouth, before he looks directly at you, as if he's staring through you.
"You've seen Nott today right? And Parkinson?" you nodded. "What did they talk about? Did Nott talk about his father being caught at the Ministry? Or did-"
You raised a singular brow at your friend as if to say 'are you finished?'.
"Yes I saw them today, in the Prefects' carriage. We just caught up with small talk and some gossip about some Hufflepuff couple. Nothing more." the lie was quickly thought out and also not too far fetched – Pansy had mentioned something about a new couple in passing before you'd parted ways on the train.
"Nothing about tasks or creepy shops?" Ron asked as he shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth. You watched him, discust painting your features.
"Nothing about tasks, and certainly nothing about creepy shops. Please chew with your mouth closed, Ronald. Seriously Harry? Stalking?"
He only shrugged at you before turning to his plate of food. He was clearly put out about something and you would bet all your galleons that it had to do with the couple next to you, who were being nauseating, to put it lightly.
You and Hermione giggled as Ron muttered about his sister and her boyfriend showing any ounce of affection in front of him, sharing a glance as Harry continued to glance at them before looking away, visibly annoyed.
When Dumbledore began to stand in front of the House tables, you slipped back into your seat beside Luna; in the corner of your eye you watched as Theo gave you the subtlest of nods.
"The very best of evenings to you!" Dumbledore announced, smiling broadly, his arms outstretched wide as if he were embracing the whole room. That's when you, and the rest of the Hogwarts student body, noticed that his right hand appeared to have started decaying at a rapid rate.
You made eye contact with Pansy who looked as horrified as everyone else.
What the fuck? She practically screamed into your mind as the sound of people whispering swept through the hall.
Dumbledore merely smiled before he shook the sleeve of his purple and gold cloak over his hand.
"Nothing to worry about," he said airily. "Now...to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you..."
You drowned out the rest of his speech, like you do every year, instead conversing with Pansy in your head.
It looks like his hand has physically died. You say to her. It's got to be dark magic of some sort.
But what business does Dumbledore have messing with that sort of evil? She sounded as nauseated as you felt just thinking about it.
"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn-" Dumbledore said, prompting the man that you had yet to meet to stand up. "-is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."
You swivelled in your seat to find Hermione in the crowds and mouthed 'potions?' to her with confusion written all over your face.
The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right.
"But if he's the Potions Professor, then who will be teaching Defence?" Cho spoke from across the table.
"Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Dumbledore, raising voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
Well that answered that question.
"No!" you giggled quietly with Luna as everyone's heads swivelled back and forth between Harry, who had shouted so loudly but didn't seem to care, Snape and Dumbledore.
And suddenly Defence is my least favourite subject. Theo spoke, making you choke on your drink as you laugh.
As if oblivious to the uproar his announcement just caused, Dumbledore waited only a few moments before the hall descended into silence once more, before continuing his long winded speech.
"Now as everyone in this Hall is aware," he pointedly looked anywhere but in the direction of the Slytherin table, "Lord Voldemort and his followers once again walk among us and gain strength and numbers everyday."
Suddenly the heads that were staring in Harry's direction turned pointedly to where Mattheo Riddle and his friends were sitting. Instead of shying away from their gazes, like Pansy and Daphne Greengrass and few others did, he continued to stare ahead at Dumbledore, seemingly unbothered by the attention he was garnering.
The silence seemed to strain painfully as Dumbledore spoke. But you seemed to zone out of what he was saying. Something about the castle's protection wards being fortified and strengthened; extra security; stricter curfew at night, etc. You took in none of it, instead focusing on your friends at the Slytherin table, who grew paler by the second. You'd watch out for them this year, especially Theo. None of them deserved to be put into the position they no doubt would all be in, come Christmas time.
Dumbledore's blue twinkling eyes swept over the students once more. "But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"
Your lessons tomorrow.
You wished it was as simple as school work, but you knew it would be anything but.
~∞~
You woke up early the next morning, the anticipation for what the day may bring making your anxiety skyrocket as you got ready to leave for the Great Hall, in which the ceiling sported a brilliantly blue sky, only a few clouds dotting the illusion. You met the Golden trio there, who were busy discussing Harry's theory about Malfoy.
"Well obviously Riddle's already inducted." Ron muttered as you sat down, a speck of blue, in a sea of red. "He is his father's son, after all."
"Still going on your Malfoy-is-a-death eater spiel? The day has hardly begun." you said as you piled scrambled eggs onto a plate, ignoring the pointed look that Professor Mcgonagall gave you as she handed out her House's timetables.
Ron seemed to be getting more agitated by the second as another group of third years on the table beside your's pointed between the four of you and whispered, not so discreetly, about what happened in June.
"It's rude to point." he snapped, sending a glare their way, causing them to turn around, cheeks painted with embarrassment.
"So sixth year looks very bare in comparison to last year, doesn't it." you say, steering Ron's glare from the backs of their heads while you looked over his timetable.
"I love being a sixth year already." Ron said, his mood brightening visibly thanks to your interference. "And we're going to be getting free time this year. Whole periods when we can just sit up in the common room and relax."
"We're going to need that time for studying, Ron!" Hermione berated as you laughed.
"Yeah, but not today," said Ron, "today's going to be a real doss, I reckon."
"I wouldn't speak too soon, Ronald." you say with a smirk as Professor Mcgonagall makes her way over to the four of you. You'd already gotten your timetable the from Professor Flitwick that morning and found out that you were in the same classes as Hermione. You both finished off your plates and left Harry and Ron in favour of getting to Ancient Runes, where Theo and Riddle were waiting for you.
Reaching the classroom, you spotted Theo immediately and went to snag the seat beside him, but Pansy beat you to it with a playful smirk.
"Come and sit by me, Princess." you glared at your two friends as you turned around to find Riddle with his arm stretched over the back of the spare seat of his desk. "I don't bite."
"Somehow I highly doubt that." you mumbled as you searched for Hermione, who had chosen to sit near the front of the room, the seat beside her already taken. Traitor. She only looked at you apologetically before turning around.
You slumped into the seat, pointedly ignoring him as you took out your things. You could hear Theo and Pansy laughing at your expense so you sent a small stinging jinx wandlessly their way, smirking when they yelped in surprise.
"Smart girl." Riddle mumbled to himself, probably not intending for you to hear, but your cheeks flushed all the same.
"So was Theo lying about your disastrous ability to desipher runes, or was that just a way to get me to agree for your...help?" you ask, still choosing to igore him.
"Oh I assure you I'm quite terrible, Princess. Awful. In fact I'm not sure how I got back into this class, if I'm being entirely honest." he said it with a shrug before he smirked at you again. "I'm sure you can help me. You are top of the class, after all."
"Actually Mione was top of the class at the end of last year. Why not ask her?" you ask, glancing at him through the corner of your eye. He had turned to look directly at you, but his hand was still on the back of your chair.
You try, and fail, to push it off, sneering at the muscular appendage in offence. Damn him and his strong, quidditch arms.
"Theodore doesn't trust Granger, he trusts you. Therefore, I'm putting my trust into your...abilities to help me out."
Lovely. His words carried a double meaning. You were really considering hexing Theo and Pansy again for putting you in this situation.
His huff of laughter along with the burning pinch at the base of your skull were the only indications that he'd heard your thoughts.
After Defence, wait for me so that we can discuss the nature of your lessons and my apparent tutlage.
You ignored him for the rest of the lesson, but wordlessly agreed, nonetheless.
~∞~
You were complaining to Hermione the whole walk to the Defence classroom, and while she was amused, there was underlying worry in her responses.
"So he wants you to tutor him?" she asks curiously.
"Not a clue why." you say flipantly. "If I was him I'd much rather you taught me."
"Well I am a muggleborn, for starters." she says self-depricatingly and continues speaking, not allowing you to rebute her statement. "And you're still at the top of the class. Christ, you can do most spells non-verbally and wandlessly, far better than I can. I think I'd rather you than me, too. No offence."
You only smiled sarcastically at her. "I don't think anyone would willingly tutor him. Perhaps I should bargain a favour with him instead."
You left out the part where he was already fulfilling a kind of favour, for Theodore and Pansy, no less.
"One class in and my shoulders already ache." you whine as you rolled your shoulder to ease the pain that your heavy bag was causing. Harry and Ron met you outside the classroom a moment later, staring, horrified, at Hermione's armful of heavy books.
"We've gotten so much homework for Runes already." she said anxiously. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations and we've got to read these by Wednesday!"
"Now I see why we have so many frees this year." you grumble.
"Shame," Ron said with a yawn, before smirking at the two of you.
"Just you wait," she said resentfully. "I bet Snape gives us loads."
The classroom door opened as she spoke and Snape stepped into the corridor, his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy black hair. Silence fell over the queue immediately.
"Inside," he said.
The Defence classroom was gloomier than ever, but thankfully it was no longer sickeningly pink and filled to the brim with plates of cat photos. The dark curtains were drawn across the windows and the only light came from the numerous candles that dotted the room, insighting a headache when you tried to read the blackboard. Snape's personality appeared to shine all over the room, from the odd portraits to the weird contraptions that littered the space.
"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; Hermione hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair. "I wish to speak to you and I require your fullest attention. You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe."
His dark, beady eyes scanned the room.
"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced." he set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a low voice that you desperately wanted to drown out. But the burning sensation at the back of your skill prohibited you from doing just that.
No. Pay attention. Riddle was becoming a thorn in your side, and its only the first day.
"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster. Each time a neck is severed, it sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."
Someone read up on their Greek mythology this summer. You say to Theo, who smirks behind his hand.
"Your defences," Snape continued, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures," he indicated a few of them as he swept past, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse-" he waved a hand towards a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony; "-feel the Dementor's Kiss-" a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed slumped against a wall; "-or provoke the aggression of the Inferius." a bloody mass upon the ground.
"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Parvati Patil asked in a high-pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"
"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now..."
You really did drown him out this time. Thinking about his wording. To your knowledge, only his followed gave him the name 'the Dark Lord', so why was Snape using that name? You filed away the information as he paced across the classroom.
"....you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?"
Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, pointledly looking in your direction where your hands stayed glued to your sides, making sure he had no choice, before saying curtly, "Very well – Miss Granger?"
"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," she stated, "which gives you a split-second advantage."
"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6," said Snape dismissively. "But correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some," his gaze lingered maliciously upon Harry, "lack."
The Professor's beady eyes landed on you once more, a challenge present in them.
"Miss Meadow, come up to the front." everyone's eyes were on you as he beckoned you forward, so you obeyed. "I want you to demonstrate this skill. On me." He motioned for you to stand on one side of the room, while he stayed at the other.
You shook off your limps and, using your wand rather than just doing it wandlessly, you shot out a disarming spell, which Snape blocked.
"Good. Now try again." he said as he shot his own disarming spell at you, which you wordlessly blocked with a flick of your wand.
This back and forth continued for five or so more minutes before Snape managed to catch you off guard and disarm you with a minute flick of his wrist.
"Very good. Now following that example, you will divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."
People paired off, you choosing to partner with Mione who looked determined to perfect this new skill. Everyone who was part of the DA in the previous year were practically experts at casting spells, but none of them, bar you, could perform the Charms wordlessly. A reasonable amount of cheating ensued; many people were merely whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud, including Ron, which only made you laugh as you watched as Harry blocked his every attack.
Of course, Hermione had gotten the hang of it within ten minutes of practice, as did Theo and Zabini and Riddle. Harry and Ron were still struggling, along with Pansy and Lorenzo.
To say you were bored was an understatement. Snape had already known that you were skilled with wordless and apparently wandless magic too, which meant that he could clearly see into your mind – yet another reason why Riddle needed to teach you control. The only other interesting thing to happen was Harry blatently sassing your Professor, which left you and Hermione gaping and Ron, Dean and Seamus grinning at him.
Once the lesson had ended, Snape in a more abysmal mood than usual after Harry made a fool out of him, you lingered in the corridor, waiting for Riddle to leave so that you could get the interaction over with.
"Hey Meadow! You coming?" Ron asked loudly from the end of the hallway. He looked at you with an odd expression on his face which morphed into unwilling understanding when you felt Theo's presence beside you.
"I'll be there in a bit. I'll meet you in the courtyard." you shout back as you turn towards Theo and his friends.
"Some lesson that was, right tesoro?" Theo asks you as he wraps a strong arm around your shoulder, steering you in the direction of the rest of his group, who were looking between you, Theo and Mattheo with matching expressions on their faces.
"What the hell is she doing here, Nott?" Malfoy asks, looking at you with distain. You glared back at him, about to respond when his familiar deep voice answers instead.
"She's here for me." Riddle says. "Go on ahead. I won't be a moment."
Its Zabini who steers Malfoy away from his glaring contest with you, and Theo who wordlessly wishes you luck with a pat to the top of your head.
"So you're going to teach me control?" you ask as you lean against the nearest wall. He rolls his eyes and wraps a giant hand around your wrist.
"Yes." he hissed. "But not here. How stupid are you? Talking about it out in the open, by a classroom, nonetheless."
Your eyes only widened in mild surprise as he began dragging you down the corridor in the direction that his friends went, but he turned into an empty broom cupboard instead.
"Salazar, if you wanted to get me alone like this there were far better ways of asking Riddle." you say sarcastically, but your eyes show a teasing challenge as you stare up at him.
"Was that an offer, Princess?" he asks with that wicked smirk of his.
"Read the room, Riddle. I'd rather sleep with a troll." you snark.
"Suit yourself." he chuckles before his face sets into that serious look he seems to have mastered in his years at Hogwarts. "The first step to learning full control is learning how to ground yourself."
You look at him expectantly which made him roll is eyes.
"You have to find a happy medium in your head that allows you to keep control of what you don't want people to see, and who you let into your head." he explains motioning to his own head as he speaks.
"So that horrible burning feeling in the back of my skull whenever you get in my head-" you begin.
"Is only there because it lets you know that someone unwanted is using Occlimency on you. The fact that you can't block me out is what we need to work on. Does the same happen with Theodore and Pansy when you communicate with them?"
"No. They're presence is wanted. Yours," you trail your eyes up and down what you can see of his tall frame in the dark, "is not."
"Well until you do accept me in your subconscious, it'll continue to hurt and it'll hurt more when you're trying to block it out." he says and to demonstrate he begins rifling through your thoughts and feelings with little to no effort, that burning sensation appearing like a pinch once again. You cradle you head in your hands, a cry escaping your lips.
Walking to the Great Hall for breakfast that morning, anxiety knawing at your insides.
Harry's Malfoy-is-a-death-eater spiel.
Your mini-dual with Snape.
How you want Riddle to rip your clothes right off your body and have him take you-
That wasn't right. You managed to mentally push him right out of your mind with more effort than you reckon it would take for you to haul a quaffle into the goal. It made your head ache.
"What the fuck was that?!" you snap, hitting his arm.
"You're a fast learner. Well done. It takes most people multiple sessions to do what you just did." he looks...proud. It stirs something strange in your gut.
"What did I just do?" you asked, intrigued, scared, confused.
"You just succeeded in blocking me out of your head." he smirked lightly, almost showing a ghost of a smile.
We're going to have lots of fun, Princess.
He was still in your head. His deep voice filling every corner of your mind, but that burning sensation was no longer present. It no longer stung and he was no longer able to rifle through your thoughts. Only converse with you, like you could with Theo and Pansy.
"We'll do this twice a week, until you can block me out without thinking about it." he said as he walked towards the door, leaving you standing motionlessly in the dark.
~∞~
icl the whole plot of this is heavily inspired by my beloved xaden and violet's bond with all their mind talking and arguing🤭🤭 (minus the dragons, etc)
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Text
Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming
Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x female!reader, Draco Malfoy x Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini x Luna Lovegood
Prompt(s): "Shut up, I'm trying to confess my love to you."
Word Count: around 4,100
Warning(s): very AU, sad reader, swearing, DRAMIONE FOREVER, Sirius and Remus are alive FIGHT ME, mentions blood but nothing graphic, changing certain rules about Hogwarts to fit the story (prefect rules specifically), no house for the reader is mentioned but I suppose it's implied that she's gryffindor??
Rating: T (one f bomb)
Author's Note(s): This is so self indulgent, lol. I love fictional Theo. I don't know if y'all picture someone specific in your head but I always envision Cody Christian as Theo. Enjoy!
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"(Y/N), are you okay?"
It was always the same question.
(Y/N), are you okay? 
(Y/N), do you need anything?
(Y/N), can we do anything for you?
And she always gave the same answer.
"No, I'm fine."
But she wasn't fine, and she hadn't been fine for quite some time.
She sat alone in her bedroom at 12 Grimmauld Place. The rain pattering down against the window like tears against the glass. The fireplace was lit, emmitting a soft glow about the room. A shabby knitted blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, keeping in what little warmth she felt. There was a cup of tea sitting on the side table that she hadn't touched since Mrs. Weasley put it there, the heat long gone.
She was surrounded by people. The entire Order of the Phoenix would spend their days coming and going. The permanent residents of 12 Grimmauld Place, like the Weasley family and of couse Sirius and Remus, wandered the house daily awaiting news of anything.
And she still felt so lonely.
No one in the house really understood why she felt the way she did. No one except Hermione. Hermione was in the same situation as her, she just hid her feelings better. No one knew that Hermione would sneak into (Y/N)'s room at night and the two girls would cry themselves to sleep, hugging each other in comfort. (Y/N) was the only one around who knew how Hermione was really feeling.
Distraught.
Sad.
Frightened.
On the verge of losing the only shred of sanity they had left.
There was a sharp knock on (Y/N)'s door before she heard it open, knocking her from her melancholy trance.
"(Y/N)."
She turned to look at Hermione standing in the doorway.
"Sirius just sent a patronus." She said, her voice laced with urgency. "He's on his way here and he has three defectors with him."
(Y/N) immediately stood up, the blanket around her shoulders abandoned in the chair, her eyes wide. "Hermione..."
The other girl nodded. "I know."
Bounding towards the door, (Y/N) wiped her eyes. "Could it be them?"
"I don't know."
"Did Sirius say anything else?"
"No."
"Absolutely nothing?"
"Just that he's on his way here."
She felt like she'd been struck by lightning.
"(Y/N), we have to be emotionally prepared if it's not them." Hermione whispered.
"Fuck that, Hermione."
"(Y/N)..."
"No. I can't take this anymore. I really can't."
Before Hermione could say anything else, there was a commotion from downstairs. The two girls whipped their heads toward the staircase. Muffled screams were coming from the main level of the house.
(Y/N) looked at Hermione before the two of them exited the room, moving to look over the third floor banister. They saw Harry and Ron rushing down the stairs, Ginny and Luna close behind.
"Let's go." (Y/N) said, already making her way to the top of the stairs.
She hurried down the steps as fast as she could without hurting herself, Hermione on her heels.
Please, please, please let him be here. Please let him be okay.
Once they reached the landing between the first flight of stairs and the second, (Y/N) scanned the main floor. Harry and Ron stood at the bottom of the stairs, their attention turned towards whatever was happening in the dining room. Her eyes moved towards the doorway and she froze. Standing there was Blaise Zabini, Luna Lovegood wrapped in his arms.
Her heart stopped.
"Blaise?" She asked.
His eyes moved towards her.
Another body moved through the doorway revealing a head of platinum blonde hair.
Hermione gasped. "Draco?"
His head snapped to where they stood on the landing. "Hermione!"
Hermione moved past (Y/N) and rushed down the rest of the stairs before throwing herself into the boy's arms.
(Y/N) stopped breathing.
Three of them. There's supposed to be three of them. Where is he?
She carefully made her way down the rest of the stairs, moving by a very disgruntled Ron Weasley and a rather perplexed Harry Potter. "Where is he?" She couldn't help but notice that Blaise and Draco were both covered in blood. Her voice cracked as she felt the tears well up in her eyes. "Blaise, please."
He looked at her, his brown eyes tired and full of sympathy. Another scream echoed through the house. Without a word, he looked towards the dining room.
That's when her heart cracked in two.
Members of the Order were scattered around the room. Ginny was running back and forth between the dining room table and the parlour carrying bandages and vials of what looked like healing salves. Remus and Sirius stood with their backs to the main doorway, going through the vials and picking out what would be the most helpful before setting them on the table in a separate pile. Molly was scurrying this way and that around the table, her attention set on something different every few seconds. But on the table was a boy, bloody and writhing in pain.
Theo.
She fell to her knees, her face in her hands. "No..." The tears that had been pooling in her eyes finally fell. A pair of arms wrap around her. "He can't die. He can't die. He can't die."
"I'm so sorry, (Y/N). Come on, you don't need to see this." Hermione held her up, supporting almost all of her weight so she wouldn't fall back to the ground. "Mrs. Weasley knows what she's doing."
(Y/N)'s eyes darted back to Theo. "I can't leave him."
"Let's just go to the kitchen and let them work. We won't be far."
As Theo let out another agonizing cry, (Y/N) let Hermione lead her away. She looked back towards the dining room entryway but it was blocked by Blaise, Luna, and Draco who were following them down the hallway. The three looked back at her with sympathetic eyes.
The next thing (Y/N) knew, the group had entered the kitchen. Hermione had pulled out a chair for her to sit in before taking the seat directly to her right. Draco followed suit and sat next to Hermione while Blaise and Luna sat across from them. Once they were situated, Blaise grabbed Luna's hand and held it in his lap.
"We didn't know you and Blaise were seeing each other, Luna." Hermione observed.
Luna laid her head against his shoulder, smiling softly despite the sadness of her friend. Blaise glanced down at her before answering. "We're both rather private, Granger. We didn't really want to advertise our relationship to all of Hogwarts, especially considering the state of the wizarding world."
Hermione nodded. She looked at Draco. "I understand that. I think we all do."
There was a moment of silence as everyone at the table took in their current situation. (Y/N), finally snapping back to reality, looked at Blaise again. There were blood stains covering the front of his shirt and a rip in the sleeve of his jacket. Draco also looked disheveled, his usuaully styled hair unkempt and scruffy. Both boys had dark circles under their eyes.
"What happened?"
Blaise made eye contact with (Y/N). More screams sounded from upstairs. "(Y/N), I don't think-"
"I want to know." She interrupted.
He sighed. "Okay." He looked at Hermione then back to (Y/N). "We've been planning to defect for months. I think we all came to the same conclusion around the same time. The night Dumbledore died."
Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) could see Draco squeeze Hermione's hand.
"We wanted to stay that night, but it was impossible. They would have killed us right then and there. We had no choice but to leave." Blaise paused and looked at Draco. "We practically had to drag Theo." He cleared his throat. "Earlier today, we were summoned to go on a mission. Someone had gotten word to the Dark Lord about Order members being in Diagon Alley. We were told we would have the upper hand so an ambush would be easy. That's when Draco sent his patronus to Sirius."
"Draco, that could've been dangerous! What if someone had seen you?" Hermione scolded.
The blonde rolled his eyes. "No one knows I can even form a patronus, Hermione. It was the only way to get word to the Order as fast as possible."
"Yes, now we all know that Draco's patronus is an otter. Adorable, mate." Blaise quipped.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, piss off."
"Anyway," Blaise continued, "when we showed up, it was already a shit show. The fighting had already begun, so they sent us in as reinforcements. Luckily for us, it looked like the Order was winning. That was the only way our plan was going to work."
"I saw Sirius right away." Draco added. "There was no one else around right then so I helped him disarm Yaxley, then before anything else could happen I cast my patronus again. Poor bloke looked like he'd seen a ghost."
"That's when Theo asked him for help." Blaise leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "Sirius rushed us into a side alley and asked if we were being honest. It didn't really take much convincing though. We all looked rather... anxious. Then he told us to apparate to the Burrow. Said he'd meet us there after the fighting had stopped."
There was another pause as Blaise hesitated.
Draco continued. "The four of us were about to apparate, but-"
"The four of you?" Hermione asked.
He nodded then bowed his head. "Pansy was with us, too."
(Y/N) watched Hermione put her hand on Draco's back in comfort.
"Before any of us could leave, we were cornered in the alleyway." Blaise spoke up. "Sirius stepped in front of us and blocked a curse, which obviously tipped off the one's shooting at us that we were no longer on the same side. It was Dolohov and Theo's dad. They just started shooting anything they could at us, yelling about blood traitors and the like. Well, that caught the attention of Bellatrix."
(Y/N) felt her blood run cold at the name.
"She rounded the corner and when she saw Draco, she went ballistic." Blaise explained. "She sent hexes at all of us but she took one last look at Draco before she sent the killing curse his way."
Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair. (Y/N) saw a tear form in his eye. "Pansy saved me." He sniffled.
Hermione whipped her head at Draco in surprise as (Y/N) let out a light gasp.
Blaise took a deep breath before he continued speaking. "None of us could have seen it coming. She just... stepped in front of him. Then she was gone. We didn't have time to do anything about it. I saw Lupin and a Weasley come up behind Dolohov and then Sirius yelled for us to go, so we apparated."
"So what happened to Theo?" (Y/N) asked, wiping her eyes.
"It was his father." Draco sneared. "Bastard sent a cutting curse at Theo before he could apparate."
Blaise sighed. "Sirius and Mr. Weasley showed up seconds after we did. They probably planned on more of an interrogation but then they saw Theo and brought us straight here."
There was a lull in conversation then. None of them had anything else to say. Hermione was rubbing circles into Draco's upper back. (Y/N) just stared at a spot on the wooden table, unable to meet eyes with anyone.
Another screamed echoed through the house.
Luna stood up. "I think I'll make some tea."
As the blonde moved about the kitchen, (Y/N) felt heartbroken. Heartbroken for Theo. Heartbroken for Pansy. Blaise. Draco. All of them.
They didn't deserve any of this.
-------
She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting at the kitchen table staring at the same spot of wood, but she noticed the tea in front of her was cold.
As usual.
"(Y/N)?"
Her head snapped to the doorway. Ginny stood there, observing everyone in the room before looking back at her. "Uh, mum says you can come up if you'd like."
She didn't have to be told twice.
Dashing up the stairs two by two, she didn't think she'd ever moved so fast in her life. She made it down the hallway and to the dining room entryway in record time, the rest of the group following behind her. (Y/N) looked into the room and saw that it wasn't as chaotic as the last time she'd been standing there. The dining room table had been transfigured into a bed. Mrs. Weasley stood near the foot of it, looking at Theo who had been laid against the pillows. His arms and his chest were wrapped in bandages, but he was breathing.
"(Y/N), dear." Mrs. Weasley whispered, beckoning her closer.
Inching her way into the room, (Y/N) looked to the motherly woman. She looked exhausted. "Is he...?" (Y/N) asked, trailing off.
"He's going to be fine." Mrs. Weasley answered. "He lost a lot of blood, but we gave him a blood replenishing potion. He probably won't wake up for a while yet, but I can assure you he will be okay."
(Y/N) released a breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding.
"Do you need anything, dear? What can I do for you?"
(Y/N) was in awe. What would any of them have done without Molly Weasley?
Finally taking her eyes off Theo, (Y/N) turned to face her. "You've done more than enough, Mrs. Weasley." She made her way closer to the woman and threw her arms around her in an embrace. "I can't even begin to thank you for what you've done."
(Y/N) felt Mrs. Weasley's arms tighten around her just a smidge before pulling back and smiling at her, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Is this boy the reason you haven't been drinking your tea?"
In that moment, she really couldn't help herself. (Y/N) gave a soft chuckle before turning her face towards Theo. "Is it that obvious?"
Mrs. Weasley continued smiling, her eyes softening just a touch. "Oh, (Y/N), the boys under this roof might be a bit dense, but I'm not." She moved to grab a blanket from a chair in the corner before making her way back. "I knew something had to be bothering you. I would've bet anything that it was a someone." She wrapped the blanket around (Y/N)'s shoulders. "Does he know how you feel?"
(Y/N) didn't know how to answer. Did Theo know how she felt? She thought he did, but come to think of it, she'd never out right said the words I love you to him.
In the grand scheme of things, (Y/N) and Theo hadn't actually been together for very long. She'd always had a crush on him, there was no doubt of that, but they hadn't really spoken to one another until their sixth year at school. If (Y/N) was really being honest with herself, she'd always been too nervous to even look in his direction, afraid she'd do something to embarrass herself. Then, one fateful day in potions class, Professor Slughorn introduced amortentia.
It was like she was there. The same fragrances she registered in potions suddenly wafted into her nose, overtaking the rest of her senses. 
That day, down in the dungeons of Hogwarts, (Y/N) was overcome with a feeling so overwhelming she really didn't know what to do. She couldn't help but look at him.
Little did she know, the same thing was happening to Theo.
They locked eyes across the classroom and (Y/N) thought she might have died a little inside. He smiled at her and her body erupted into butterflies.
One would think after such an earth-shattering experience, a person could maybe gain the confidence to talk to another.
That was not the case.
(Y/N) and Theo didn't have any other interactions, big or small, until almost four months later.
Because Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to one another, there was some tension among their table in potions. (Y/N) and Harry, the two who were stuck in middle ground territory, were trying their best to make everyone get along. There weren't any positive results as of yet.
This led to their group being separated, because as Slughorn put it, "Distance makes the heart grow fonder."
She wasn't sure how it happened, or why, but she was then sat at a table with Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott. (Y/N) tried her best to avoid eye contact with the cute brunette, and was actually doing really well until she realized she had forgotten to grab an Ashwinder egg. She sighed, rather deeply, and made to move to the storage cupboard, but before she left her stool, a gloved hand entered her peripheral vision and set an egg down next to her cauldron. She quickly looked to her left and saw Theo looking right at her.
And that was only the beginning.
It was Theo's idea. They find a spot and meet in secret. They were both prefects, so it wasn't hard to do. Without raising too much suspicion, they would trade shifts with whoever was partnered with the other. They would walk the halls doing their prefect duties and then they would go to their special place.
The astronomy tower.
Not many people ventured to the astronomy tower. It was secluded and sort of cut off from the rest of the castle. It was the perfect place for two young people to meet without anyone else finding out. Until the night Dumbledore was killed.
Theo had been acting weird the couple days leading up to it. Everytime they were together (Y/N) noticed he seemed on edge, almost nervous to be around her. (Y/N) was beginning to think he had changed his mind. Maybe he didn't feel the same way she did. Maybe he wanted to move on from her. Maybe there was someone else.
"Are we meeting at the usual time tomorrow?" (Y/N) asked, looking up at him. They were sitting near the edge of the astronomy tower. The sky was clear and the stars were shining bright.
Theo didn't say anything right away. He was staring out at the grounds surrounding the castle as if in a trance.
"Theo," (Y/N) said, her voice trembling, "are you okay? You've been acting... different."
He seemed to gain some awareness back before he looked back at her. "No."
She was shocked. "What? Theo-" But she was interrupted.
"You can't be here tomorrow night."
In an instant, (Y/N) knew something was wrong. "Why?"
"Please, (Y/N)," Theo said, grabbing her hand and holding it tightly, "you can't come anywhere near the astronomy tower tomorrow night. Promise me."
(Y/N) didn't know what to think. After a few moments of silence, her eyes met his. "I promise."
Theo let go of her hand and moved his hand gently up to the side of her face before bringing his forehead to hers. "Whatever happens, we'll see each other again. I know we will."
Any doubt (Y/N) had been feeling about him immediately lifted. She could feel her eyes start to tear up. "Why does this feel like a goodbye?"
Theo pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Because it might be." Then he leaned in and kissed her.
That was the last time she had seen him. The next night, she was roaming the halls with other members of the D.A. when the death eaters had broken into the school and Dumbledore was killed.
(Y/N) was suddenly shifted back to reality.
"We never..." (Y/N) started before trailing off. "I never got the chance."
Mrs. Weasley smiled softly then patted (Y/N)'s arm lightly. "Well, it looks like you'll get the chance, dearie."
-------
(Y/N) couldn't remember falling asleep. After her conversation with Mrs. Weasley, the rest of the teenagers that were in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place made their way up the stairs into the dining room as well. Draco and Blaise wanted to check on their friend and both made sounds of relief upon seeing he was going to be okay before they were ushered up the stairs where the bedrooms were located.
Moving the comfiest chair she could find to Theo's bedside, (Y/N) kept the blanket Mrs. Weasley had given her and sat down. She tried to make herself as comfortable as possible before she grabbed Theo's hand. She must have fallen asleep looking at him because when she woke up, her face was sideways on the edge of the bed and his hand was still in hers. She propped her head up with her open hand and took a moment to look at the bindings across his arms and his chest, her eyes moving all the way up to his face.
It took her a second to realize Theo's eyes were open and looking at her.
"Theo?" She whispered. Her voice was hesitant, as if she thought it was a dream.
He smirked at her but it was full of adoration. Only Theodore Nott could make a smirk look adorable.
"I told you we'd see each other again."
(Y/N) didn't know what to do. "Please tell me I'm not dreaming."
Theo chuckled gently. "Would you like me to pinch you?"
She felt a flood of relief overtake her body and it was so powerful, she started to cry.
"Oh, darling, no." Theo tried to move but grimaced before deciding it was probably better to lay still. "Darling, please. Don't cry."
(Y/N) sniffled and brought the sleeve of her shirt up to her eyes to wipe the tears away. "I can't help it, Theo! I was so worried!" Theo attempted to interrupt but (Y/N) continued before he could get a single word in. "I've been worried for months! I didn't know if you were alive or dead, and then you show up here covered in blood!"
"(Y/N)-"
"And then Draco tells me you were hit by a cutting curse by your own father! You could have died by bleeding out if you hadn't gotten here sooner than you did. Then the last thing I would've said to you before you died would've been something stupid and not "I love you" like it should have been-"
"(Y/N)-"
"But I was too scared to say anything to you about it the last time we saw each other-"
"(Y/N)!"
"Shut up, Theo, I'm trying to confess my love to you!"
And then there was silence.
(Y/N) was sure her face looked as red as a tomato. Her skin felt like it was vibrating off of her body. She could feel the palpable silence between her and the boy in front of her.
She looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry." She stood up and turned her back to him before making her way to the entrance of the dining room.
"You love me?"
She froze. It was so quiet (Y/N) wasn't sure he'd actually said it. Turning back to him, she saw he was still looking at her, a new emotion in his eyes.
She took a deep breath. "Theo..." She moved back to the chair at his bedside. "I always have."
Theo narrowed his eyes as if he couldn't actually believe it. "Really?"
(Y/N) nodded and swiped a piece of hair behind her ear, looking down at her hands in her lap.
There was a beat of silence before Theo spoke up again. "I love you, too."
She smiled. The words she had always longed to hear. It was like a symphony of angels. Her eyes reached his and they looked considerably brighter than they did before. They both chuckled lightly.
"Now you tell me I'm not dreaming." Theo whispered, a tone of astonishment in his words.
(Y/N) smirked. "Would you like me to pinch you?"
He opened his arms wide and beckened her over. Hesitantly, she moved closer to the edge of the bed before slowly moving into his embrace and relaxing into his chest. "Are you sure this is okay? I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm just a bit sore this morning, love. I'll be fine." He pulled her even closer to his body. "Just let me hold you and I'll overlook the fact you told me to shut up."
(Y/N) laid her head against his shoulder and into the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry."
She felt Theo leave a soft kiss against her hair. "You're forgiven, my love."
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carav4l · 1 year
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Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader
Summary: After the first Quidditch match of the year, Y/N founds herself in the wrong side of the bar at the club she works at. And she’s not specially happy about it. However, Theo Nott is even more pissed, and he has all the rights to be.
Warnings: violence (not developed, but a fight does take place), swearing.
Before you read: this piece is set in a CollegeAU! English is not my first language, so please take that into consideration and be nice. Also, the whole piece is written in third POV because it’s the one I’m more comfortable with. Reader’s house isn’t specified, but definitely isn’t Slytherin or Gryffindor for the plot’s sake.
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Y/N had to cover for one of her colleagues that night, Aubrey, who was feeling unwell after accidentally tasting some unfinished potion they had been working on that morning’s class. So, much to her regret, Y/N had to experience the post-season party from behind the bar at the Witch’s Hour Nightclub. Y/N wasn't the biggest fan of Quidditch by any means, but she did love everything that came with it at the castle: the colorful stands, skipping classes to watch the other’s houses games, the tension during the match, and above all, the celebrations that followed.
"Can I have two strawberry daiquiris, please?"
Ginny Weasley's words were met with a nod from Y/N, who smiled hoping to conceal her frustration. As she prepared the drinks, she glimpsed her group of friends amidst the dance floor frenzy. Just about ten minutes ago, they had all been keeping her company, sympathizing with her bad luck until Y/N urged them to enjoy the night on her behalf, and they had moved towards the dance floor to never come back. With all honesty, Y/N didn’t blame them for doing so.
Once the daiquiris were ready, Y/N placed them in front of the redhead without a word, her forced smile still in place. After paying for her order, the Gryffindor left the bar to join Luna Lovegood on the other side of the room.
Y/N barely had time to stash the money in the cash register before another group of girls shouted their order at her, noticeably less politely than Ginny. Y/N found herself close, very close, to spitting on the three Sex on the Beach cocktails in front of her. She couldn't stand how people could seem to lose their manners with the slightest bit of alcohol in their system. It didn't take her long to realize that, when it came to those girls, the unjustified attitude was because it had been Y/N who had taken their order, not the curly-haired guy going back and forth behind her.
Theodore Nott seemed considerably more annoyed about working that night than Y/N. And rightfully so, given his position as chaser on the Slytherin team, which had also happened to lose the game that day. Well, if Y/N was in a bad mood, Theo seemed ready to hex anyone who entered his line of sight at any moment.
Y/N took the wad of bills the group left, or rather slammed on the counter, and turned to head back to the register. This time however, she ended up colliding with something herself, most specifically her coworker's chest. The boy’s hands shot to her waist to prevent her from falling, and Y/N felt the exposed skin between her black crop top and low-rise sequin miniskirt burn. She unconsciously grabbed onto Theo's forearm, her chest constricted by the sudden scare.
"Hey angel, seems like you really tripped over me there," he said with a grin once Y/N steadied herself, not even making an attempt to let her go. In fact, she felt like he was tracing circles on her hip with his thumb. Y/N became acutely aware of the places where Theo's skin touched hers. "You good?"
She lifted her gaze to his watercolor eyes and cursed herself for the effect they, and the boy himself, seemed to have on her. It was utterly stupid, as everyone knew that Theodore Nott wasn't available and didn't seem like he would ever be. The boy seemed way above any one-night stand or anything as trivial as college relationships. Y/N believed she could count on one hand all the girls she knew he had been involved with. In some way, she respected him for that.
"Yeah, sorry," she apologized with flushed cheeks, silently grateful for the dim lighting of the venue. "It's just that tonight's been a mess and I'm a bit distracted."
Her words got lost in the music resonating through the speakers. Theo put a finger to his ear to signal that he hadn't heard anything, then buried his hand in Y/N's hair and gently brought their faces closer. Y/N repeated her response, earning a nod and a guttural sound of agreement.
"Tell me about it," Theo sighed then, pulling his face back just enough for their eyes to lock. They were so close that their noses almost brushed.
"I still don't quite get why you're working tonight, to be honest. I thought there was an unwritten rule that said Quidditch players didn't have to work on match days."
"Well, let's just say dear boss couldn’t seem to care less about that rule," the guy said, giving a sidelong glance at Philippa Harvey, a rather ill-tempered Ravenclaw who happened to be the club's manager. She was on the good side of the bar, dancing suggestively with a guy Y/N couldn't quite place. "Let's say she made me an indecent proposal, and I turned her down. And voilà, here I am."
A pang of something close to jealousy reluctantly settled in Y/N's stomach. It's not like she had any right to feel that way, anyway. She opened her mouth to express how sorry she felt for him, both for Slytherin's defeat and the fact that Philippa had finished screwing the night for him, but the sound of someone banging on the counter forcefully stole her opportunity.
"Hey, you two! Less groping and more pouring drinks."
It was a Gryffindor from the Quidditch team, tall and big, with a rather ordinary face. Y/N assumed that's why she couldn't remember his name. In any case, he seemed pretty drunk to her.
After trailing her cheek with his thumb one last time, Theo let go of her and with the distasteful expression he had worn all night back in place, told Y/N that he would handle it. She sighed and resumed the task of putting away the money in the cash register. Once done, she walked over to where Theo was serving the Gryffindor big guy to attend another one who had just arrived at the bar.
As she was about to start making a gin and tonic for him, a shot glass was placed right in front of her. Y/N raised an eyebrow at Theo, and he just shrugged in response. "It's going to be a long night," he seemed to convey with the gesture. "We might as well make it as enjoyable as possible." She agreed, so she took the shot and brought it to her lips without hesitation. Theo did the same with his own shot, never taking his eyes off her, and Y/N wasn't sure if the rush of heat that swept through her body was due to the alcohol or his gaze.
"Have another one on me, Nott," the Gryffindor guy interrupted them again, placing another pair of bills on top of those already on the counter. "And another for your gorgeous coworker. It sucks that you have to be the one serving drinks after how we beat the shit out of you guys this afternoon, don't you think?"
Theo clenched his fist around the glass, his knuckles turning white. Lips pressed into a stern line, he continued preparing the jerk's drink without looking up from his task. Y/N continued hers, not taking her eyes off the scene unfolding by her side.
"I also think it sucks that such a pretty girl like you has to be on that side of the bar," the Gryffindor guy persisted, unabated. Y/N looked at him out of the corner of her eye, still working, grabbing a bottle of gin from under the bar and pouring it into the glass in front of her. "When you get a break, you could look me up. We Gryffindors know how to show a girl a good time."
Disgusted, Y/N opened her mouth to tell him that she'd rather get eaten by a basilisk than to let him lay a finger on her, but someone beat her to it.
"Don't you even think about talking to her," snapped Theo, slamming the drink down in front of the Gryffindor with such force that Y/N thought the glass might shatter. "In fact, don't ever look at her again."
Y/N was taken aback by such words. She glanced at Theo with a racing heart, but he didn't return the look because his gaze was fixed on the idiot. The latter laughed brazenly.
"And what are you gonna do about it?"
Y/N saw a glint of anger in Theo's watercolor eyes, so she hurried to slip under the boy's arm resting on the counter and interpose herself between him and the Gryffindor. For a moment, Theo ignored her and continued to glare at the rival idiot. With a slightly trembling hand, Y/N grabbed his face by the jaw and forced their gazes to meet. If he had taken her that intimately before, he shouldn't mind her doing the same, right?
"Theo," she called him. He however, not willing to give in attempted to turn his face again. "Theo, just leave it. It's not worth it."
Y/N felt Theo's grip on his jaw tighten even more, but he nodded imperceptibly anyway.
"Fine."
"Yeah, Nott, listen to your little whore."
In the blink of an eye, Theo had jumped over the counter and landed a solid left hook on the round-faced Gryffindor. Y/N gasped in surprise at the sight. The Slytherin boy wasn't particularly known for getting into fights, not even when they happened during a match and the rest of his team and some of his friends were involved. That was more typical of Mattheo Riddle, or Lorenzo Berkshire. By Merlin, even Malfoy could be more prone to fights than Theo.
But there he was, straddling a guy who was a head taller and twice his size, punching him repeatedly in the face. Y/N figured the only reason Theo barely had gotten a scratch on his cheek was that, as she had suspected earlier, the Gryffindor was quite drunk. For a moment, Y/N just stood there, doing nothing but watching the spectacle unfold before her eyes, as if in a trance that prevented her from looking away. It didn't last too long luckily, and once she managed to move, she went straight to the dance floor, heading for the area where she thought she had spotted Theo's group of friends over an hour ago.
If it hadn't been for Draco Malfoy's bleached blond hair, Y/N didn't think she would have found them in the mass of dancing bodies. Pushing any insecurities the group might make her feel deep down, Y/N grabbed the wrist of the person who was closest to her and shook them hard enough to get their attention. Mattheo Riddle's dark eyes met hers shortly after, giving her an unfriendly once-over from head to toe. The guy didn't even bother to speak, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Hmm... I'm Y/N Y/L/N," she introduced herself awkwardly, trying not to dwell on it for too long. "I work here with Theo. This is actually about him. He's fighting with a Gryffindor idiot, and I'm not saying he doesn't deserve it, but the guy is like twice his size, and I can't separate them."
Surprise transformed Mattheo's face, which only confirmed the belief that Theo and fighting didn't usually appear in the same sentence. He turned to his friends to convey the message, and they all hurriedly followed Y/N to the bar where Theo was still straddling the Gryffindor, as if Y/N had never left. In less than a second, Mattheo and Blaise had each of Theo's arms and were leading him out of the club, followed by Lorenzo, Draco, and Pansy.
Once again, Y/N stood still, not quite sure how to proceed. One thing was clear though: she definitely didn't want to be near the idiot once he woke up, or when his friends showed up and looked for someone to blame. Y/N approached the bar again to inform her only other coworker, a girl from her house with whom she maintained a friendly relationship of greetings and pleasant smiles in the corridors, that she was going to make sure Theo was okay. The girl nodded, and without further ado, Y/N headed for the back exit of the Witch's Hour, reserved only for staff and, on this occasion, Theo's friends.
Outside in the dimly lit alley, she found the curly-haired boy sitting on an old wooden crate, with Pansy Parkinson crouched in front of him at a distance that, for some reason she couldn’t wrap around her finger, seemed too short to Y/N. Pansy seemed to be giving him a quiet scolding even though there was no one else there but the two of them and their other four friends, standing prudently apart. Theo had his gaze fixed on the ground, and although Y/N couldn't see his eyes because of his bangs, she noticed that his jaw was clenched once again.
Y/N approached cautiously the rest of the group. The smell of tobacco from Mattheo and Lorenzo's cigarettes wafted into her nose, causing her to wrinkle her nose in distaste. Blaise was the first to notice her presence.
"You didn't need to come out," he spoke in a calm tone, giving her a friendly smile. Y/N shrugged and returned the smile timidly.
"Blaise’s right," Lorenzo chimed in between drags of his cigarette. The contrast between his boyish face and the action itself shocked Y/N. "Pansy knows how to handle him."
Y/N made an affirmative sound before giving a proper response. Why had she come out, anyway? The answer briefly crossed her mind, but she couldn't even process it correctly, let alone speak it out loud. She decided to go for the most obvious excuse.
"I just wanted to make sure he's okay. After all, this happened because..."
"I don’t fucking care, Theodore!" Pansy's shout cut her off mid-sentence. The five turned their heads toward them. Pansy had stood up and was pointing an accusing finger at Theo. "You're supposed to be the smart one in the group. You shouldn't stoop to this crap."
"Ouch," Mattheo whimpered, taking a drag from his cigarette.
"Don't play the victim, Riddle," Draco said, leaning against the alley wall with his arms crossed over his chest. "She hasn't said anything that isn't true."
"It's still pretty uncalled for on her part."
The conversation died there, unlike the ongoing one between Pansy and Theo. Y/N decided to wait until Theo's friends went back inside the club to talk to him alone about what had happened. She didn't feel up to doing it with all those strangers watching her from the other side of the alley, and there was no need to create such a scene.
The night was strangely cool for the time of year they were in, and considering how lightly she was dressed, Y/N began to shiver slightly. Thanks to Merlin, only a couple more minutes passed before Pansy concluded her scolding and headed back to the club. Y/N couldn't quite grasp the look she shot her as she walked by. It wasn't a look of complete disdain, at least not entirely, but it lacked the warm smile Blaise had given her earlier.
"Ignore her," Blaise reassured, that same smile still on his face. Shifting his attention back to Y/N, he noticed her shivering and promptly took off his green and black Quidditch team bomber jacket to offer it to her. "Here, take it. Give it back to Theo, and he'll return it to me."
Y/N barely had any time to refuse, but was grateful that Blaise didn't give her the chance to as she truly could use some warmth. She slid her arms into the sleeves of the jacket, which was considerably larger than her, and involuntarily breathed in its scent: expensive cologne with hints of mint and chocolate. Y/N couldn't help but find it somewhat addictive.
Once alone in the alley, Y/N walked over to where Theo was still seated, head down and hands tangled in his hair.
"Hey," she managed to say.
After a significantly long sigh, Theo raised his gaze to meet hers. With a tired smile, he greeted her in a hushed voice.
"Are you okay?"
"Mhhm," Theo barely made a sound in response, unsure of what else to say.
There was an air of something new between them, and neither was quite sure how to proceed. Y/N raised her hand with the intention of cupping his face to see for herself if what the boy had said was true, but her hand stopped midway. She attempted to disguise the motion by placing her hand on her chest.
"Thanks for standing up for me," Y/N finally said, feeling her cheeks grow warm.
"Anytime," Theo murmured, his voice slightly huskier than usual. In a sudden surge of courage he took Y/N's hand in his and tugged it gently, bringing her closer to him. He played with her fingers as he spoke again. "I wish you hadn't had to see that, though."
"Let's just say you could have settled for threatening him or something," she excused him, downplaying it with a giggle that made the boy smile. "But I'm still grateful you did it."
Silence once again settled between them, but this time it felt more comforting in a way. For a few moments, they simply locked eyes, trying to find in each other's eyes all that they were feeling themselves. Y/N was genuinely surprised to find herself in this situation with none other than Theodore Nott. There had always been a sort of mutual understanding between them, a silent complicity they didn't share with any of their clubmates. But Y/N had always assumed it was a simple friendship, that Theo considered her a part of the short list of people he tolerated, and that was it.
However, under the dim light of the moon that night, it felt like much more to her.
"I think we should go back inside," Y/N said in a hushed voice, fearing that if she raised her tone too much, the magical moment would come to an end.
"We should, yeah," Theo agreed, but despite his words, made no attempt to go back inside. If anything, he pulled Y/N's hand a bit more until she was practically between his legs.
With his free hand, Theo cautiously cradled her face, as if unsure if she would pull away. On the contrary, Y/N tilted her head letting it rest in his hand, unable to believe that all these displays of affection were coming from him.
"Can I ask you something?" Theo's voice caught her slightly off guard, but she nodded all the same.
"Sure."
"Never wear Zabini's jacket again," his words caught her with a bit of surprise, and her cheeks turned an even rosier shade.
"Why? Are you going to lend me yours or something?" she joked, pushing a couple of strands of hair from Theo's face, using the excuse to touch him again.
Theo's gaze darkened a bit, and for a moment, Y/N cursed herself for choosing those words. Maybe they weren't at that point yet, right? Perhaps they hadn't reached the teasing phase, and her comment might had made Theo close up. It wouldn't surprise her coming from him.
Y/N didn't dare breathe again until Theo spoke, eyes filled with certainty.
"Consider it done."
Her heart raced, and seeing the smile that transformed her face into one of unexpected joy, his did too.
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lovebotmo · 9 months
Text
like the movies
chapter four - the feathered visitor
series masterlist
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
wc: 1675
author's note: so so grateful that you guys are enjoying the story so far!!! its been incredible to be inspired and motivated when it comes to writing. i appreciate those who let me know they want to be on the taglist - lmk if anyone else wants to be added!!!
also if i missed someone my apologies!!! first time putting a tag list together hehe
song inspiration: how sweet it is (to be loved by you) by marvin gaye
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Clambering into the compartment containing your friends after separating from Theo, you are greeted with expectant silence. Ten eyes peer at you with varying emotions; curiosity, caution, surprise, excitement, and intrigue all seem to swim in the faces of your dear friends.
Slapping your hands onto your knees, you smile nervously at them. “Well, what is it?”
“Don’t keep us waiting!” urges Hannah, who’s practically vibrating with excitement. “What was that all about? Running after Nott of all people.”
Your brows furrow unconsciously, “What d’you mean?”
Ginny laughs at your apparent confusion. “Nuh uh, Y/n. We all saw you go after Nott, no need to be coy now.” She winks cheekily at you. “Are you two seeing each other?”
You sputter at her brashness, “Me and Theo? There’s—”
“It’s Theo now, is it?” Padma asks. “When did he become Theo, eh?” Padma nudges your shoulder with her own.
“Oh, shove it, Pads!” You could practically feel the red rising in your face and neck at the undivided attention now being paid to your very short, tiny, essentially minimal interaction with a male specimen. You felt like a research subject whenever your friends interrogated you like this. “I was just worried Theo was going to miss the train—a very normal thing to be worried about considering he’s my potion partner and I bloody well can’t use his brain if he’s stranded in Hogsmeade! Besides,” you said, pulling at the sleeves of your wooly sweater, “that fight between Malfoy and him looked downright awful.” At that, the girls abruptly halted their aggressive probing, uneasily remembering the spat that had taken place very publicly in The Three Broomsticks. All, except for Luna, who continued to peer at you with that typical all-knowing, dreamy look of hers that seemed to suggest she knew better.
As if there’s anything going on between Theo and me. I barely know the guy…or almost barely know him…kind of know him?
Shaking the disorganized thoughts from your head, you turned to the girls to continue the conversation that had abruptly stopped at the tavern. A train ride filled with trolley sweets, gossip, and uncontrollable laughter soon led to your arrival at Hogwarts, just in time for the evening meal.
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Retiring to your room shortly after dinner, you found that your housemates’ beds were empty. You guess that they were likely meandering around the grounds before curfew. You savored the silence and stillness of the room. However, all too soon, it was interrupted by an odd sort of sound.
Clink.
At first you ignored it, thinking something had just shifted in your room.
Clink…Clink.
This time, your eyes swept across the room, searching for whatever could be causing that sound. It didn’t sound like a water drip, someone in heels, or even coins moving around in a coin purse.
Clinkclinkclinkclink!
As the sound increased in volume and frequency, you realized it was coming from the window of all places, even though you were elevated relatively high in the tower containing your bedchamber. That is to say, no person could have been outside your room without the aid of a broom or the flying charm. You cursed under your breathe that the window was glazed, meaning you couldn’t see what lay on the other side. Undergoing a momentary crisis of whether you should open the window, you decided in a split-second to just open it and hope for the best. However, you made sure to grab your wand.
Can’t be too careful now, can we, Y/n?
Your hand grasped at the brass handle, quickly swinging the frame open. An autumnal evening gust of wind greeted you, along with something else.
What the fuck.
Perching on your windowsill, was a quaint tawny owl peering at you rather oddly. The bird cocked its brown and white feathered head as you did the same.
What the devil is a bloody owl doing up here? “I don’t suppose you intended to come up here, did you?” Looking at the owl, you noticed it was clutching something in its claws, a small parcel of sorts. “Is that for me?”
As if answering, the owl flew past you and landed on your desk. Its head cocked once more as if wondering whether you were going to join it or not. Realizing you were standing dumbly in front of the window and letting all the warm air out, you shut it. You did not lock it, however, anticipating that your feathered friend would be departing shortly.
You joined the owl at your desk, sitting in your chair. You were now eye level with the mysterious bird, its dark eyes gazing into your own.
“May I?” you inquired, gesturing towards the little package in its clutches. The fowl relented, gently releasing it onto the wood of your desk. Before allowing yourself to rip into the bundle, you pulled out a small cannister of crickets you kept in one of your desk drawers for when you visited your own owl in the aviary. Lightly placing it in front of the owl, you allowed it to treat itself while opening the unknown gift.
Inside, you found a small package of caramel creams, just like those you had gifted to Mr. Flume a few short hours ago.
“How…?” You looked to the bird who was still pleasing itself with your offering of crickets.
You couldn’t begin to wonder at who would have known to gift you that particular candy, who would have noticed your quick interaction among the thick throng of students that had filled Honeydukes earlier. No one had stood out to you in the little time you had spent in the candy store, wholly preoccupied with your candy exchange.
Where could they have even bought it from? It’s not like Mr. Flume even stocks this specific sweet, no matter how much I may beg the man to.
“You must have been flying for ages to bring these to me, I reckon.”
“Hoot.”
Laughing at the short, clipped response of the owl, your eyes noticed a small piece of parchment paper within the parcel. Grasping and opening it quickly, your eyes were met with the same script you had seen on the previous note that had accompanied the moly bouquet currently residing on your nightstand. Once more, the note was succinct and saccharine.
Y/n,
Sweets for you, sweetheart.
Yours,
Teddy
“Seems your owner fancies me,” you said to the owl as you carefully refolded the note. “I don’t suppose you would be able to give me a clue as to who they are?”
“Hoot.”
Sighing, you replied, “Alright, alright. I won’t badger you for answers.” You rose from your chair, intending to allow the plumed messenger to return to the aviary. The bird flew from its perch on your desk to your shoulder, its head gently rubbing against your cheek. You smiled at the little show of affection. Once more, you opened your window, allowing your avian visitor to rejoin the skies. Looking back at the caramel creams and clutching the note to your chest, a warm feeling began to leak out of your heart. Whoever your admirer was, he was rather…sweet.
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A few caramel creams later, you were sprawled on your bed and surrounded by your friends as you recounted the entire rendezvous with the tawny owl. You shared the sweets among your friends, but you kept the contents of the note to yourself. Your friends had already seen the first note and none of them had recognized the handwriting. There was no harm done, really.
Besides, you thought, it’s kind of nice to keep something between just me and this elusive ‘Teddy.’
“You didn’t recognize the owl, did you?” asked Ginny. “Godric knows everybody can tell when I’ve sent an owl. That bloody bird, Errol, is hard to miss.” She gives you a vexed look that makes you chuckle.
“No, it looked like any other owl I’d have seen in the aviary. Anyway, there are hundreds of owls here, they’re not exactly easy to differentiate.”
“Well,” Padma says, “at the very least, we know that your little admirer is a third year or older.”
Hannah’s face shows her confusion, “How do you figure?”
“They were in Honeydukes, weren’t they?” Padma shrugs, “Whoever he is, he has to be, at minimum, thirteen years old to go to Hogsmeade.”  
Groaning, you flop back onto your bed, hands covering your face in dismay. “Blimey, I hadn’t even considered it might be someone younger than me. What if it is a third year? Fucking hell, I’ll never be able to live it down.”
Moving your hands from your face, Hermione smiles gently at you. “If it is a third year, which I seriously doubt, you’ll be gentle in letting them down. No big deal.”
“I’d be a laughingstock, ‘Mione,” you say grumpily.
“No, you won’t, Y/n,” replies Hannah. “Besides, it’s just the six of us that knows, right?”
“About that…” Ginny looks at you sheepishly. “I may or may not have possibly, accidentally let it slip when I was perhaps…potentially talking with Lavender…”
The redhead’s confession gets you to shoot up quickly from your horizontal position. “You did what?” You toss at a pillow at her, which, with her incredible athleticism, she easily intercepts. You frown. “Lavender is possibly the worst gossip I’ve ever met. I’d be surprised if Filch didn’t know about it.”
“It was an accident, promise!” Ginny exclaims, “Lavender asked if you were seeing anybody—I think she’s interested in Lee Jordan—so, I suppose she was trying to determine whether or not you were—”
“Ginny.”
“…Yes, Y/n?”
“I’m going to give you until the count of three.”
“Count of three—what for?”
“One.”
“Oh please, Y/n. I didn’t mean to—”
“Two.”
“For the love of Merlin—”
“Three.” At your last count, you sprint at the girl who starts to run from you as you chase her with your wand. She sharts to shriek with laughter, dashing as far from your incurrent wrath as possible.
“You’re going to get it, Weasley!”
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taglist: @melllinaa, @randomgurl2326, @lovelyygirl8, @abaker74, @mypolicemanharryyy, @vanevafu, @laceandsuch, @agent-tempest, @themarauderswife7 & @adoraspace
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happilykrispypirate · 2 years
Text
Impossible (ch. 7)
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Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x fem!Soulmate!Potter!reader.
Warnings: Swearing, some angst, mentions of violence and my shitty writing.
Summary: Mattheo and the reader are made for each other, literally. In a world where soulmates are connected through physical and emotional pain and a tattoo on the back of their left wrist, Mattheo and the reader must struggle to find a way to cope with the fact that their soulmate is on the opposing team.
A/n: Also very short chapter. Next chapter is going to be the last and then there's gonna be an epilogue of course.
Taglist:
@abaker74
@evycloudberry
@bxbyyyjocelyn
@abbiesxox
@buckysjuicyplums
@the-confused-asexual
-
It had been 2 months since Mattheo and I arrived here at the shack. He had known that there'd be an attack at one point. We all did, we just never knew when.
Mattheo decided that he'd find a place where it'd be safe for us. Molly told him about an old shack that she and her siblings would play in when they were little.
He spent the whole summer fixing it.
After a week Molly reached out to us. She told me everyone was fine and they'd too gone into hiding. Ginny was back in school. No one heard from Ron, Hermione or Harry.
We don't know how long we have to stay here. Mattheo said if he had it his way we'd stay here forever.
It was late. I decided I'd head back to the shack. Ever since we got here, everyday I'd sit outside and read a book. Mattheo made sure that there'd be a whole library here so that neither of us got bored.
I locked the door behind me after I walked into the shack and saw Mattheo sitting on the sofa. Drawing.
"Hey," I said as I walked closer.
"Hey, love. How far are you with this book?" He asked as he looked up from his drawing book.
"Almost done, and I just started it yesterday," I said as I plopped down next to him.
"Well done, love," He said smiling at me.
"You should read it, it's good," I said as I put the book down next to me and snuggled into his side, "What are you drawing?"
I tried to look at the drawing but he closed the book before I could. I pouted at him, "It's a surprise," He said smiling at me.
"But I wanna see," I said.
"Then it's not a surprise," Mattheo said making me roll my eyes.
"Fine," I said and then got up.
"Where are you going?" He asked.
"I'm going to go take a bath, you wanna join?" I asked and he smiled.
"Do I wanna join my wife in a lovely hot bath? Yes!" He said getting up from the sofa.
I giggled as I saw his excitement.
-
It's been 6 months since we started living here.
Molly had written a letter saying that it shouldn't be long before the deather eaters descend upon Hogwarts. My brother still hasn't reached out to anyone. Sirius regularly checks in a with letter as well.
"So I'm thinking we make home made pizza," Mattheo said making me look away from book and at him.
"Have you ever had pizza?" I asked.
"Lots of times! There were a lot of times that I used to sneak out of the house to explore or when I was with Theo and his family in Italy, that place has the best pizza," He said.
I smiled, "Sure, we can make pizza. I don't mind."
"Amazing," He said before leaning upwards, since he was laying with his head on my shoulder, and kissing me before getting up and heading to the kitchen.
-
It's been 7 months since we got here. I never knew which day it was until Molly or someone sent me a letter.
Mattheo and I sat on the sofa. We each had a book in hand and our legs were tangled together.
"Babe?" I said and Mattheo hummed in response, "When do you think the war will be?"
"We're in a war now, love," He said.
"Fine, when do you think my war with your father will be?" I asked. Matthek put his book down and turned to me.
"Hopefully never," He said as he placed a hand on my cheek, "I don't know what I would do if I lost you."
Mattheo's hand came down to my hands and took my left arm and rubbed with his thumb over the tattoo.
"You know that I have to fight him," I said and he nodded.
"I know," He said, "I just wish it weren't so."
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Note
What are your favourite Harry Potter ships? 🙃
Honestly, I'm like, super picky about my Harry ships, and then with everyone else, it's like: "🤷‍♀️ yeah, you can get with whoever,"
As with all shipping discussions, these are just my personal opinions about various ships and they do change and evolve over time as I accidentally convince myself of more ships.... so, yeah.
For Harry:
Nottpott (Harry Potter x Theo Nott) is my number one (even if I wrote basically everything I read about them).
Tomarry/Harrymort is a pairing I do enjoy but it isn't my top pick for either of them (most of the HP fics I used to read were Tomarry/Harrymort).
Rarry — I like them as a concept, though I've never read fics for them and I don't want them together in canon.
For other characters, I have ships I have read fics about them:
Prongsfoot (I honestly believe one-sided prongsfoot is canon, I think Sirius was in love with James. Some of the evidence is mentioned here)
Jillypad
Snilly
Snirius
Then, I have the bizarre rarepairs I somehow landed on, but are near and dear to my heart:
Ron x Luna — I honestly don't know why, but it works in my head.
Sirius x Barty Crouch Jr — this one makes sense in my head, I don't think they have fics, but I have reasons for this, namely this post and its sequel. (I ship them post Azkaban, btw)
Tom Riddle/Voldemort x Alphard Black — I blame @iamnmbr3.
Sirius x Rabastan Lestrange — another ship I have no idea how I got into, but I'm here.
Ron x Susan Bones — yet another ship I somehow stumbled into that I don't think has a fanbase at all.
And then ships I like in canon well enough, but I never looked for fics about them:
Bill x Fleur
Romione
Remadora 
Jilly
Grindeldore (Just for the hot summer romance to tragedy pipeline)
Ginny x Dean (I think they were better together than Hinny, but that's probably just me)
Lucius x Narcissa
Bellatrix x Rodolphus
Molly x Arthur
Neville x Hannah Abbott
And ships I like well enough, but not enough to read fics about them that aren't canon:
Seamus x Dean (I was so close to place it in the canon ships)
Susan Bones x Hannah Abbott
Ginny x Blaise Zabini
Hermione x Terry Boot
I'm fine with most ships, honestly, like, there are very few ships I truly dislike, but these are the ones I like better off the top of my head, as I'm sure I'm missing some with my multishipper tendencies. (As you can see, I love the NPCs)
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thatdammchickennugget · 9 months
Text
How You Get The Girl - Part Five
pairing - mattheo riddle x nott!reader
tags - social media au, university au, brother's best friend, female reader
warnings - mentions of alcohol, cursing
taglist - @itsamusical4lifee @imkaaayy @lafrone @sunasbbie
series masterlist - previous part - next part
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●・○・●・○・●
Pushing your way through the sweaty bodies crowded around your living room, you finally made your way into the kitchen, cringing at the sight of some random drunk girl sitting on your counter and drawing on the cabinet door with a sharpie. Shaking your head with a sigh, you moved on to the table holding the drinks.
Not your party, not your problem. Theo would be the one to clean that up tomorrow, you would make sure of it.
Mustering the assortment of bottles scattered over the table, you tried to remember what Ginny and Pansy wanted but your mind was fuzzy. You were just about to reach for a bottle of vodka when someone was pushed into your side, your arm hitting an open bottle of soda, spilling its content all over the table.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” The guy who had rammed into you grimaced at the mess he caused, pushing a hand through his blond hair. “Here, let me.”
He reached around you to grab some paper towels and started dabbing up the soda. You found yourself watching him, trying to come up with his name but your mind was blank.
“Again, I’m really sorry. Did I get anything on you?” He gently took your arm to turn you towards him, cringing when he spotted the wet spot on your shirt.
“I’m good, don’t worry. It was an accident,” you told him and averted your eyes from his green ones, taking a step back from him. “Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before?”
“Yeah, I just transferred, actually,” he let out a laugh. “Moved in with my cousin. You might now him? Cedric Diggory?” You nodded. Cedric and you shared a couple of classes and he was usually one of your first choices for partnered projects, seeing as he was actually willing to put some work in and not just leaving everything to you.
“Oh yeah, I know Cedric,” you smiled. “Are you liking it here so far?”
“It’s fine. Haven’t gotten to meet many people yet,” he said and waved his hand dismissively. “I’m Ricky, by the way.”
“Y/n,” you told him with a grin. You found it hard not to stare at his smile. How could someone’s teeth be that white and perfect?
“So, can I make you a drink, y/n? To make up for this,” he mentioned towards your shirt.
You nodded again, making some room for him to browse through the collection of bottles. He grabbed a red cup when he made up his mind and started with a generous amount of vodka. You could already hear Theo and Enzo scolding you for taking a drink from a stranger. But you were watching him make it right in front of you and he had told you his name, so this should be fine.
“Do you have any iced tea?” he asked, setting down the vodka. “And maybe lemon juice?”
“Uhm, I think we only have the granulated kind. But we definitely have lemons.” You went to grab the iced tea and a lemon from the fridge, handing them to him.
He got right back to work, filling the rest of the cup with water before dropping in a good amount of the granulated iced tea. He then pulled out his car keys to poke a hole into the lemon, squeezing some of the juice into the drink as well.
Lastly, he took one of the straws from the cup and stirred everything together before handing it to you. He picked his own drink back up, holding it out.
“Cheers,” Ricky said and bumped his cup into yours with a grin. You took a small sip at first but went in for a bigger one when you realized how good it was.
“This is amazing! Dangerous though, I can’t even taste the alcohol,” you said, making him laugh.
“It’s my secret weapon.” His eyes fixed on something behind you for a moment, but he placed a warm hand on her arm to hold you in place when you tried to turn and see what was distracting him. “Hey, do you want to go and talk somewhere a little less crowded?”
Face flushing slightly at the physical contact, you were still unsure why this guy was even paying you any attention in the first place. You almost caught yourself agreeing, before you remembered your friends were still waiting for you in the backyard.
“I would love to but I promised my friends I would get them drinks. Would you mind making two more of these for me?” you asked hopefully, tapping a finger against your cup.
“Sure thing,” he smiled, going to grab two more cups to make the drinks. Ricky pushed the filled up cups towards you, one of his hands flying up to scratch the back of his neck. “Hey, could I maybe get your number?”
The question surprised you. The fact that you lived with your twin brother and his four friends was usually reason enough for any guy that might be interested in you to stay away. Your face was heating up again as you scrambled to take his phone. “Of course!”
He had already opened up a new contact and you quickly typed in your name and number before handing it back. He was about to say something else when he was interrupted by a weight landing on your shoulders, an arm snaking itself around you, pulling you a step back. The familiar scent of smoke and Mattheo’s cologne hit your nose.
“Your brother is looking for you,” Mattheo told you, his eyes fixed on the guy standing in front of you.
“Then Theo can come and find me himself,” you mumbled back, trying to push his arm off your shoulder. You turned back to shoot Ricky an apologetic smile. “I’ll see you around?”
“Sure, I’ll text you.” He gave you another grin, refusing to meet Mattheo’s eyes as he grabbed his drink and walked past you.
Mattheo’s gaze followed his retreating figure as his hold on you loosened up a little. “You know he did that on purpose, right?”
Finally free to move again, you went to balance the other two cups in your hands. “What?”
“Bumping into you. No one pushed him, I saw,” Mattheo went on, following behind you as you made your way out of the kitchen. “You should probably be careful around that one.”
“Well, I don’t care. He was nice,” you stopped to hand one of the cups to him. “Now make yourself useful if you're bored enough to be stalking me and carry this, please.”
Mattheo still had an annoyed look on his face but he did what he was told and followed you outside, only leaving when you started telling the girls about the guy you had just met, rolling his eyes as he walked away.
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acciotheomione · 2 years
Text
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The Journal by akorah
Professor Bathsheda Babbling did not allow her Ancient Runes students to pass notes, until the war began brewing and she saw a Muggle-born and a Death Eater’s son falling in love in the front row.
Link to AO3
Link to FFN
AO3 tags below the break
Archive Warning(s): Graphic Depictions of Violence
Relationship(s): Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott, Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom
Additional Tag(s): Passing Notes, Harry is a terrible Chosen One, Theo is thoroughly done with him, Gratuitous use of runes, Blood Magic, Hermione is way too trusting, Self-Harm, Neville is a BAMF, Angst, Death Eater!Theo, Unhealthy amounts of Arithmancy, Wandless Magic, Dark Arts used for Good, HEA, HP: EWE, Friends to Lovers
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dramioneasks · 1 year
Note
Just recommending a fic- Fauxmance by aplacetostart on ao3.
If you like fake relationships, quidditch draco, and ministry of magic hermione…this story is soo for you. On the plus side we have Pansy being an absolute icon.
Thanks!
Fauxmance - aplacetostart - E, 33 chapters - Ten years into their respective careers, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are each looking for a change. Hermione is running for Deputy Minister alongside Kingsley Shacklebolt following her impressive ascent through the Ministry. After a lengthy stint playing for the Falmouth Falcons, Draco is retiring from the field with coaching on his mind. So when public relations mastermind Pansy Parkinson pushes them together to help achieve their goals… what could go wrong?
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angelfic · 7 months
Text
— I MISS YOU, I’M SORRY.
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
summary: you haven’t seen theo since he supposedly left you to join the other side. now that he’s back and has revealed his true intentions to you, you’re finding it hard to be forgiving.
warnings: swearing, kissing, tiniest bit of angst, very unedited. not much else other than a whole load of waffle… my bad
author’s note: this is a sort of fix-it fic… kinda. yes I am very much stealing the essence (you could say) from marauders fics because I prefer writing those and yes it’s basically this drabble recycled and yes grimmauld place is still the order headquarters well into the war just don’t question my timeline and you’ll be fine ok ty enjoy xoxo
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12 Grimmauld place feels unsettling at the best of times, what with the portrait of Walburga Black hurling insults at you every time her curtain slips open and the row of shrunken house-elf heads mounted on the wall. The Order of the Phoenix holding hushed up meetings in the dining room while you and your friends are forced to stay upstairs isn’t anything new or surprising, but the last few days feel different.
Instead of Mrs Weasley telling members of the Order to whisper when you, her kids and Harry and Hermione are in the room, she flaps about ordering them to stop talking altogether. At first you think you’re imagining it when her eyes flick over to you every time, until you bring it up to Ginny and Hermione.
“You’re not imagining it,” Hermione mutters as she shuts the door of the bedroom and casts a quick Muffliato charm before settling cross legged on the bed opposite you and Ginny. “I overheard Mrs Weasley and Tonks in the kitchen this morning, talking about how the Order is arranging transport for some Death Eater spies to come back here.”
You gasp, pretending to be scandalised. “You mean you were evesdropping. That’s not very prefect-y of you.” Ginny snorts at Hermione’s indignant glare and you can’t help cracking a smile at the way her cheeks have slightly reddened. “Sorry, sorry, you know I’m kidding. But what’s that got to do with her looking at me like I’ve gone through a personal tragedy?”
“Your ex-boyfriend did leave you to go join the Death Eaters,” Ginny points out. Hermione gapes at her, but Ginny merely throws her hands up in exasperation. “Well, he did! No point beating around the bush!”
A lump rises in your throat at the mention of Theodore. Truth be told, you’ve tried not to think about what happened since the last time you spoke about him. ‘Spoke’ being a strong word since it was mostly crying and sniffling and blowing your nose into tissue after tissue in Ginny’s room at the Burrow. Mrs Weasley had made your favourite dinner that night and brought you up a hot chocolate to make you feel better. And it really had- so much so that you refused to speak about him since.
You’re more angry than you are sad now, which makes you nod at Ginny’s words. “You’re right. He’s an arsehole, there’s no point in tip-toeing around it for my sake.” Hermione frowns a little, worry clear as day on her face, but you don’t stop talking. “Besides, we’re on opposite sides and this is a war happening. Not some silly, childish break-up. He chose to be a Death Eater and if we have to fight him, so be it.”
Hermione and Ginny stay quiet for a few seconds and watch you breathe heavily. Thankfully, before either of them can speak, Harry and Ron come bursting into the room.
“They’ve only gone and brought Death Eaters into the bloody building!” Ron shakes his head.
Harry snorts at Ron’s dramatics. “Ex-Death Eaters. Apparently. Still a bit dodgy, in fairness.”
“I thought they were spies,” you say, unable to help your curiosity as you stand up. Ginny and Hermione follow you out of the room as you all peak over the bannister to try and get a glimpse of the action downstairs. Annoyingly, there only seem to be a couple of dishevelled looking Order members milling around.
“Maybe Mrs Weasley and Tonks got it mixed up, or maybe they aren’t privy to what’s going on…” Hermione frowns, deep in thought. “I don’t think anyone but Dumbledore knows what’s actually going on.”
Harry makes an irritated sound. “What’s new?”
“Oh, by the way, Mum sent us up to get you lot for dinner,” Ron says absentmindedly as he tries to get a good look over your shoulder at whatever is happening in the hall downstairs. “Mind you, that was before all the Death Eater business so she’ll probably send us right back up.”
The five of you quickly shuffle downstairs to get to the dining room and while your stomach is growling loud enough to forget any thoughts of Order business, Ron and Harry linger in the hall a little in an attempt to get some answers. You don’t doubt Harry will get some, being the Chosen One and all.
You nudge and elbow your way into the dining room where you’re happily surprised to see a messy-haired Tonks yawning over a bowl of soup. She smiles sleepily when she spots the three of you.
“Hi, girls,” she mumbles through a yawn. “Merlin, I’m exhausted. I keep falling asleep in my soup. Good thing it’s mushroom.” She points to her newly platinum blonde hair that matches the contents of her bowl.
“Why’re you so tired?” Hermione asks as she ladles some soup into bowls for you, Ginny and herself. Her voice is quiet as not to attract attention from Mrs Weasley with her questioning. “Is it to do with tonight’s, uh, Order business?”
“Yep.”
Tonks looks as though she’s about to drift off and Ginny seems to jump at the opportunity to gather information.
“So, what are their names?” She gets straight to the point, glaring at you when you choke on your soup a little, not expecting her to be so blunt.
You and Hermione stop eating and wait with bated breath for Tonks to refuse to answer. She merely yawns again, before talking. “You’ll meet them soon enough.”
“Meet them?” you ask, unable to help yourself. “Aren’t they… uh, you know… dangerous?”
“Dumbledore doesn’t seem to think so,” Tonks says, shrugging. You grow a little frustrated at this, since Dumbledore isn’t exactly known for having straightforward plans. While you know his intentions are good, someone he thinks is safe could very well be the opposite. While you ponder this, Tonks’ next words quickly turn your irritation into shock. “The others were understandably quite wary, what with one of them being You-Know-Who’s son and everything, but…”
You feel a ringing in your ear and every word coming from Tonks may as well be directed to her mushroom soup because you aren’t listening anymore. You-Know-Who’s son. You haven’t seen Mattheo since term ended, and even then it was only from a distance. You hadn’t spoken to him since Theo revealed his Dark Mark to you and you’d since avoided his entire friend group like the plague. If Mattheo is in the building, you can only hope and pray that Theodore isn’t with him.
Vaguely aware of someone shaking you by the shoulder, you snap out of your thoughts. “Who else is with Mattheo?” you ask Tonks, your voice sounding rough to your own ears. She blinks through her sleepiness, slightly startled awake by your unwavering eye contact. “Voldemort’s son. Who’s with him? What do they look like?”
You’re so focused on getting an answer from Tonks, and Hermione and Ginny are clearly on the same page as you now since they’re both silent and waiting for a response, that none of you notice Mrs Weasley entering the dining room.
“Tonks, is he blonde or-?”
“Enough!” Mrs Weasley interrupts you hastily, making everyone jump. She sounds panicked, but the look she throws Tonks is stern, like a warning to keep silent. When she turns back to you however, her eyes soften and her voice is gentle, albeit with a hint of annoyance. “I asked Dumbledore not to bring them here while everyone was awake. I didn’t want you all upset again, dear. Look, you can have your dinner upstairs, I’ll bring it up to you!”
You’re grateful for her concern, but it’s a little hard to feel anything other than the pit in your stomach since she’s just confirmed what you were dreading.
Ginny speaks up first, angry on your behalf. “Mum, she deserves to know if that awful git is in the same house as her! I say she ought to go and deck him in the face.”
“Ginny!” Hermione looks at her in exasperation as Mrs Weasley gasps, horrified. “That sort of attitude isn’t going to help anyone.”
“You’re right,” you mumble, getting up from your seat.
Hermione lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”
“I should go and deck him in the face.”
Hermione’s sputtering falls to deaf ears as you abruptly leave your seat to go out into the hall, the scraping of chairs behind you indicating that everyone is following closely.
Realistically, you have no plans to actually hit Theodore. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever successfully landed a punch before in your life. This doesn’t stop you charging into the hallway and elbowing your way through the huddle of Order members to get to the door they seem to be crowded around.
Kingsley Shacklebolt is the last of them to stumble out of your way, clearly too surprised by your sudden presence to continue guarding the door. You raise a shaky hand to the doorknob and hesitate for a second, suddenly nervous. Kingsley takes this moment to snap out of his surprise and redirects his attentions to what you’re about to do next.
“My dear, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to-”
“Kingsley, do you have any idea why I’m standing here?” you say curtly, cutting him off.
He throws a quick glance at Mrs Weasley, almost as if it’s by reflex. Clearly she’s told more people than Dumbledore to keep word of Theodore far from you. “I, uhm, I may have heard a thing or two…”
“Right, so are you going to stop me entering this room, then?” you ask boldly. Your voice catches slightly on the end of your sentence and Kingsley falters a little.
“Well, really I should-“ he begins, eyes darting to your own slightly teary ones. He sighs. “No, I’m not. Just try not to hex the boy.”
He steps out of your way and you finally barge into room, the door swinging open as you stay lingering near the entrance. The room is just as dingy as the rest of the house, lit up by some candles dotted around the room
You first see Professor McGonagall getting up abruptly from her chair where she was previously sat next to a standing Dumbledore. He merely peers at you over his half moon spectacles and raises his eyebrows.
You suddenly feel a little silly, and rude for barging in like that. “Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I-“
You stop talking when see movement on the other side of the room from the corner of your eye. Just as Tonks had said, Mattheo Riddle, son of Lord Voldemort is standing right there, flanked by Lorenzo Berkshire… and Theodore. Your mouth goes dry.
As soon as you catch his eye, he smiles broadly at you. You don’t return the gesture, taking his appearance in instead. He’s thinner than the last time you saw him. No visible injuries, but he’s definitely seen better days. His dirty blonde hair is overgrown and unruly as it falls into his eyes which, despite brightening up at your presence, are tired.
You keep your expression as impassive as you can, slightly angry with yourself at the twinge of concern you feel. It was all well and good interrupting whatever meeting was happening in here before you came in, but now that you’re here… you have no idea what to do or say.
Theo’s smile falters when you continue to stand there with clenched fists and a stony face and you’re tempted to just run out of the room when Dumbledore clears his throat.
“Well,” your Headmaster says pleasantly, as though you were all engaged in polite conversation rather than a strained silence. “This reunion was certainly a little earlier than anticipated, but I suppose that can’t be helped. I think we ought to give Mr Nott and Miss Y/L/N a moment alone.”
“Uh, can’t we stay in here too?” Lorenzo asks with a nervous chuckle, eyes darting to the watchful crowd standing right outside the door. You can’t blame him for wary, being an ex-Death Eater in a house full of Order members.
Mattheo nods, throwing an arm around Theodore’s shoulder, ignoring the glare he receives. “Yeah. These two won’t mind a bit of company. Right?” he asks you cheerfully. You blink at him.
“Relax, Berkshire,” Professor McGonagall says, rolling her eyes at the way Lorenzo has inched further into the room. She snaps her fingers to get them moving out the door. “Nobody is going to hex you, you silly boy.”
“Can’t say the same for Theo,” Mattheo mutters as he walks past you and follows everyone out, shutting the door.
You don’t really have any choice but to look at Theo now. He tries a smile again, despite the fact you’re not returning it and he takes a step towards you.
You immediately step back.
Theo flinches ever so slightly, his eyes unable to hide that he’s hurt.
Good, you think viciously.
Sighing, he looks at you imploringly like he wants to say something, but can’t find the words. “You’re angry with me,” he settles on muttering, his voice quiet in the dark room.
You let out a derisive laugh. “Angry? You worked that out, huh? Death-Eater’s didn’t completely addle your brain then, did they?”
“Darling, please let me explain,” Theo pleads, taking another few steps towards you.
Rather than stepping back, you whip out your wand and point it right at him. He doesn’t back away, merely raising his hands in surrender and arching an eyebrow as if to ask you if you’re serious. This angers you further.
“Do not call me darling,” you hiss, raising your wand further. Theo doesn’t react, as though he knows you’d never actually use magic to hurt him. Your hand trembles with the weight of the realisation that no, you wouldn’t hurt him. That you’ve actually been more worried that becoming a Death Eater would get him hurt than him betraying you. He left you with nothing but a cold goodbye and you still can’t help caring.
Feeling stupid, and a little bit pathetic, you drop your hand to your side and allow him to continue standing before you as he lowers his hands. You grit your teeth and cross your arms. “Explain.”
Theo lets out a relieved breath. “I never wanted to leave you,” he says, and you immediately roll your eyes. “I- no, look at me. I didn’t.”
“That doesn’t explain the fact that you did,” you deadpan, turning away to leave. Theo quickly reaches out to grasp both of your arms and gently turns you towards him.
You stiffen at the first physical contact you’ve had with him in months, your body betraying you and erupting goosebumps all over your arms in spite of your anger.
“I lied about it to protect you,” he whispers, peering at you through the strands of hair that are stubbornly falling into his eyes from weeks of neglect. Theo looks slightly pained and you recognise his expression to mean that he’s desperately trying to phrase his next words correctly. His eyes flick over to your right arm. No. To his left wrist, where you know his Dark Mark to be. “You can ask Dumbledore if you don’t believe me… Me and the others only ever took the Mark so we’d be able to spy on The D- on him.”
The relief hits you like a freight train and lightens your heavy chest all in one go. You hadn’t just felt betrayed by your boyfriend leaving you all those months ago. You had felt dread at the possibility of him joining a Pureblood supremacist’s cult. Dread at the idea that the views he’d shared with you were all lies and that he was a completely difference person to the one you loved.
Despite the relief, the sting of the breakup still lingers with you.
“That meant you had to be a prick when you left me?” you ask, voice shaking against your will. His eyes soften.
“Yes,” he says weakly. “How else could I have left you without worrying that… that he could use you against me if he found me out? I never wanted to take the Mark and it killed me when I saw the look on your face.”
Your scowl, trying your best to distract Theodore from the fact that your vision has gone blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes. By the look on his face, you doubt you’re doing a very good job. “Do you really think I would have cared about a fucking tattoo, if you had just told me the truth?”
“No, I know,” Theo sighs, absentmindedly drawing closer to you. “I’ll explain anything you want, but the work we did was too close to The Dark Lord to risk telling anyone about at the time. Dumbledore made me, Mattheo and Enzo swear not to say anything. It was safer that way.”
“Did you make an Unbreakable Vow?” you whisper, stiller than ever.
Theo furrows his brows. “No, but-”
You pull away from him abruptly and back away to the door, ignoring the way his hands reach out in an attempt to hold your arms again. “Then I hope the information you got for Dumbledore was worth it.”
You don’t look back at him, nor do you check to see if anyone is in the hallway as you run upstairs and into your room, slamming the door shut as you lean against it, breathing heavily. You stay there for a while, reeling from your anger and irritation at the fact you still have to stay in this bloody house while Theodore’s in it.
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The next few days are confusing to say the least. Theo doesn’t seem to have any plans to avoid you, but he respects your space.
Sort of.
He isn’t badgering you every second of the day, but somehow whichever room you’re in, he finds himself in as well. Whenever you try and reach for something, even if it’s not on a particularly high shelf, or particularly far away, Theo beats you to it, ever the gentleman.
It’s starting to unnerve you a little.
One particular afternoon, you walk into the kitchen hoping to make a cup of tea in peace. At the table sits Theo, a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. When he spots you, he sits up straighter and you dawdle stupidly at the entrance.
Before you can snap out of it and remember what you came in here for, Theo gets up and walks over to the mugs. “Tea?” he asks politely, and, you think, a little hopefully.
“Will you make it and let me drink it alone?” you ask bluntly.
“I’ll make it and sit with you in silence,” he offers, undeterred despite your coldness.
Narrowing your eyes, you glance at the clock and sigh. It’s too early in the morning to put off having your tea, so you allow it. “Fine. Milk and-”
“Two sugars,” he cuts you off with an annoyingly smug smile. “I remember.”
You poke your cheek with your tongue, but stay silent as he turns his attentions to the kettle. Theo’s face quickly falls when he realises he has no idea how to use it. Your impassive expression almost cracks and you have to bite back a laugh as he examines the thing. Walking over to the counter, you drag the kettle so that it’s closer to you. And so you don’t have to be as close to Theo, but that’s besides the point.
“It’s already filled with water, you just need to flip the switch so it starts boiling,” you explain, pointing to the little part. Theo places his cigarette in between his lips as he furrows his brows, clearly skeptical of the muggle contraption. You suppose you can’t blame him since you, Hermione and Harry have had to explain the kettle to countless members of the Order since it was introduced to the house a few months ago.
You still don’t know where the plug socket is and considering the fact that Grimmauld Place has never inhabited muggles, you aren’t going to bother asking.
When Theo flicks the switch and sees the light turn red, a satisfied smile graces his lips where the cigarette still hangs. You look away from his mouth very quickly and go to sit down. Unable to leave without making things awkward, you decide the only thing to do is watch Theo make two cups of tea. He doesn’t need instruction since he knows exactly how you like it, but something catches in your throat when he uses a green mug. Your favourite colour.
The only sound in the kitchen is the clink of the spoon swirling in the cups and Theo soon brings both cups over with an incredibly concentrated frown to make sure there’s no spillages as he sets one down on the table. The other he hands to you himself and you have to clench your jaw when you grab it, your own hands brushing against his, which he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to move away.
“Thanks,” you mutter, trying to use the burning heat of the mug against your skin to distract from the fact that you have tingles.
“S’alright,” he replies, a barely restrained grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of the mug as you sip your tea.
Damn, you think to yourself. Why is it always so good when he makes it?
The two of you settle into a surprisingly comfortable silence as you drink your tea and he smokes. The puffs are very carefully directed away from you, but you can’t help wrinkling your nose out of habit. Back when you were still together, you were always firm about him cutting down and now you have to restrain yourself from reaching over and plucking the cigarette out of his lips to throw it away like you used to do with ease. He never objected.
Theo notices your looks all the same, and it’s almost like he’s reading your thoughts. He raises a brow, almost daring you to remove the cigarette yourself. “You want me to stop?”
“I don’t care,” you say in an attempt to sound nonchalant. Shrugging, you try your hardest not to react to his obvious bait, but it’s like a bloody reflex. “It’s your lungs on the line, not mine. If you want to lose five years off your life, then by all means, go ahead. I really couldn’t care-”
“As you wish,” he interrupts you, grinning like an idiot again. The next thing you know, he’s putting out the cigarette, and sipping his tea instead. He doesn’t even like tea.
“I didn’t say you had to stop,” you grumble, slightly pleased nonetheless.
He merely hums, taking a gulp of his tea. You accidentally let out a snort of laughter when he grimaces at the taste. Theo’s lips quirk up in amusement when you laugh, unrestrained and it’s only when you catch him staring at you that you quickly stop.
The smug expression on his face quickly returns as though he knows you’re finding it hard to be fully angry at him.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you snap, drawing your knees up on your chair towards your chin. “You look stupid. And your hair is too long.”
Theo huffs out a surprised laugh. “My hair is too long?” he asks incredulously, reaching up to tug a piece down so it reaches the bottom of his nose. “Hm, you’re right. You cut it pretty good that one time. Would you do it again for me?”
“Mrs Weasley is better at it,” you say, chin jutting out stubbornly. “I’m sure she’d be delighted if you just ask.”
“The way she looks at me, I’d be lucky to get away with my head still attached to my body,” he drawls, wholly unimpressed by your suggestion. “Why can’t you do it?”
“Because I’m not done being angry with you yet,” you reply simply, draining the contents of your mug. “Trust me when I say you don’t want me anywhere near your head with a pair of scissors either.”
Theo nods slowly, a smile gracing his lips— strange, since you just threatened physical violence. “So, what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to be angry with me forever.”
“I- Well, I didn’t mean-” you stutter pointlessly, cutting yourself off with a sigh. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early for this, leave me alone.”
“That was the first cigarette I’ve had since before I left,” Theo says quietly, searching your face for a reaction, almost nervously.
You aren’t quite sure how to respond to this random piece of information and you find yourself floundering. “Uhm. Okay, good. That’s… Yeah, that’s great for you and your lungs, well done. Saves money too. They were actually, uh, saying on the news the other day that the average amount people spend on-”
“Darling, as much as I appreciate it, that’s not what I’m getting at,” he interrupts, the ghost of a smirk at his lips. You scowl at him for letting you go on for so long and motion for him to get to the bloody point. “Every time I brought a cigarette to my lips, I remembered you weren’t going to be there to nag me about it. It just feels pointless now.”
You stare at him. “Nice to know that my nagging was what you remembered me by.”
“That’s not-” Theo cuts himself off with a laugh that sounds halfway to a groan. “Merlin, you’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can get a word out, Harry walks in which you find odd considering it’s so early in the morning and him and Ron are usually only out of bed when Mrs Weasley yells them down for breakfast.
“Morning,” he says through a yawn. The greeting is directed at you, but he sends an expectant look at Theo right after. “Time to leave, Nott.
“Leave for where?” you ask before you can help yourself. You realise with a start that Harry and Theo are dressed and ready while you’re still in your pyjamas. “Where do you have to go?”
“Horcrux hunting,” Harry says flippantly, as though he’s just announced he’s going fishing. Hermione had filled you in on the information Theo and the others had ascertained from their time with Voldemort, but you didn’t even consider them or Harry would actually be going with the Order to find them. “Nott and the others know more than we do, so they’re coming with.”
You level a look at Theo, who seems to be pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. “Thanks for sharing that tiny tidbit of information, by the way,” you mutter sourly.
He winces, getting up slowly from his chair. “It, uh, didn’t seem that important. It’s only a quick little task anyway. We’ll be back before you know it.”
“I’m not stupid,” you scoff, standing up so you can attempt to look a little more dignified as you confront Theo. Harry, on the other hand, looks as though he regrets his decision to enter the kitchen in the first place. Despite this, you hadn’t missed the way he furrowed his brows when Theo spoke. “Even if Harry wasn’t looking at you like you were speaking gibberish, I would know that you’re lying. It’s a Horcrux you’re leaving to get. Not the weekly food shop.”
Harry snickers at this, though quickly turns it into a cough when Theo sends him a withering glare. Sighing, you decide to ignore him for the moment and turn to Harry instead
“Be safe,” you say, gentler than before. “And don’t be a hero, just try and get out of there safely.”
“Pfft,” Harry waves you off, a sarcastic tone entering his voice. “When have you known me to do that?”
You roll your eyes, cracking a smile as he walks away, supposedly to find the rest of the group.
“Don’t I get a ‘be safe’ as well?” Theo tries for a casual, joking voice. A hint of irritation seeps through it though. You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, slightly flustered at his obvious jealousy.
“Uhm, okay. Bye,” you say stiffly, fiddling with the loose string of your cardigan sleeve so you have something to do with your hands other than ball them up at your sides. Theo seems to be satisfied with the curt response, or more likely your lack of insults, and he nods, turning away to leave. As you watch him walk away, a familiar sense of anxiety bubbles up in your stomach and you blurt out the only thing you can think of. “Don’t die!”
He slowly turns around, very clearly holding back a grin. You think you might thump the boy. “Will you forgive me if I come back alive?”
“Well,” you huff, crossing your arms. As petty as it may be, you’ve always found it hard to loosen a grudge. You settle for a shrug instead. “Come back alive first and then I’ll see.”
Theo takes two steps forward and closes the short distance that was previously allowing you to keep a cool- well, cool-ish, head. He keeps both arms behind his back, however, as he dips his head down slightly.
“My sweet, stubborn girl,” Theo says in a low voice. His proximity flounders you for a moment and you don’t even protest that no, you’re not his anything. The way your breathing turns shallow would be contradicting that greatly though. “I’ll try my best. And if I don’t come back alive, I promise you can yell at my ghost.”
You scowl, and this time you actually do thump him on the arm. “You’re not funny, you idiot. Now, go. I can already hear Mattheo irritating the patience out of Harry.”
Theo gives you a little two-fingered salute and a wink before he walks away again, leaving you alone with a funny feeling in settling in your stomach.
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You aren’t the only one who sits anxiously in the living room waiting for the group to return with the infamous Horcrux. Ron has eaten his way through three bowls of cereal and rapidly makes a start on his fourth while Hermione tries to distract herself with reading a book that she hasn’t noticed is upside down.
After another hour goes by, Ginny, who was previously pacing up and down the stairs, sighs and turns Hermione’s book the right way up which startles her, causing her to give up altogether.
You sit cross-legged and completely still, other than switching your legs every time one of them goes numb. Eventually, you get so sick of watching Mrs Weasley mop over the same spot on the floor for the fifth time that you jump up from your seat, causing her to start and knock over the bucket of dirty mop water all over the floor.
“Oh, dear,” she mutters, waving her wand and siphoning all the water up in a second.
“Sorry, Mrs Weasley,” you say, wincing. “I’m just a little stressed since it’s been ages already-”
You get cut off by Hermione gasping at the sound of the front door opening along with voices. She grips your arm tightly. “They’re back!”
Barely registering the pain of her nails digging into the skin of your arm, you waste no time in running into the hall with the others to greet everyone at the door. You can’t help the relieved smile on your face when you do a quick head count and find everyone present.
As you get closer, you see how exhausted they look. Not to mention the fact they’re dripping water all over the rug. Harry stands at the front of the group looking like he might collapse if he stands any longer and Hermione and Ron pick up on this as they rush over to help him inside.
As they stumble him across the hall, you stop craning your neck as Theo comes into view. The relief you previously felt leaves you faster than your body knows how to deal with and you have to force yourself to breathe when you take in the state of him.
At first glance he doesn’t look particularly worse than the rest. They all have a vaguely haunted look in their eyes along with a sickly pallor like they haven’t seen the sun in days.
But the way Mattheo and Lorenzo are holding him up brings attention to the fact that all of his weight is being put on one leg. The other, to your horror, has a deep, bloody gash trailing down his thigh and onto his calf. The sight of blood steadily dripping onto the floor below has you frozen, almost mesmerised in a terrible way, and it’s not until Dumbledore speaks that you snap out of it and to attention.
“Miss Y/L/N, if you could please fetch Madam Pomfrey for me,” Dumbledore asks, his voice a lot calmer than you feel. You nod, turning away quickly before Theo can see the panic which is probably clear as day on your face.
It takes a scary second to find Madam Pomfrey, but as soon as you do, she gets down to business preparing her supplies in the living room which is as far as Theo seems to be able to make it.
He lays on the sofa, breathing shallowly as Madam Pomfrey crouches down beside him to begin assessing the wound. Peering at it closely, she looks up at Dumbledore sharply. “Inferi?”
“I’m afraid so,” he replies solemnly and you let out a choked sort of whimper.
“Merlin,” Ron whispers, looking like he might be sick. Whether that’s because Madam Pomfrey is cleaning Theo’s leg, or because of the mention of Inferi, you aren’t sure. “What the hell were you guys doing?”
“All will be explained, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore reassures him, looking over his spectacles. “However, I must insist that for now we allow dear Madam Pomfrey to tend to Mr Nott’s injuries.”
“Will you be able to heal him?” Mattheo asks, swallowing hard. The concern in his voice for his best friend has your heart clenching and you look to Madam Pomfrey just as earnestly for an answer.
“Yes, I dare say I can,” Madam Pomfrey says grimly, but she pulls out a couple little bottle of potions from her bag with a frown. “That doesn’t mean it won’t be extremely painful, unfortunately.”
“Can’t imagine what pain feels like,” Theo mumbles, shifting his position on the sofa slightly and wincing. His face goes whiter than before and he shuts his eyes tightly from the pain, but he still manages to talk, however hard it may be. “Not like I’ve just had Inferi mistaking my leg for their lunch.”
“No talking and no moving,” Madam Pomfrey instructs Theo, sending him a stern glare.
“Sorry-”
“Shhh!” you hiss, giving him a glare of your own. Theo’s eyes flutter open slightly and his lips quirk up when he sees you leaning over him as close as you can get without Madam Pomfrey shooing you away.
His smile quickly drops when Madam Pomfrey pours some purple liquid into the open wound, causing it to hiss and smoke. The groan that leaves Theo has you holding your breath and you fight the urge to shut your eyes and turn away.
“Merlin, I can’t watch,” Lorenzo gags, his skin turning even sicklier than before. Turning away, he holds onto Mattheo’s shoulder to steady himself, the latter looking more interested than anything as he peers at Theo’s sizzling cut. Lorenzo shakes his head and holds a hand over his mouth every time he can hear Madam Pomfrey pouring more of the potion. “Oh, God, that’s disgusting.”
“Mr Berkshire, if you are unable to watch, then don’t,” Madam Pomfrey snaps, screwing the bottle shut and grabbing another one. She waves her hand in an impatient shooing motion. “In fact, everyone out. Now! This isn’t a Quidditch match, for heaven’s sake!”
Dumbledore starts filing everyone out and you consider staying for a minute but Madam Pomfrey’s raised eyebrows have you hurtling out of the room with everyone else. Theo starts to say something, but a drop of something else makes him grit his teeth and the green smoke produced by the potion follows you out the door.
The next hour or so is filled with Harry, Mattheo and Lorenzo being fussed over by Mrs Weasley, who insists on them going up to bed once they’ve cleaned up and changed into dry clothing. Unfortunately for the rest of you, this means you won’t be getting an update any time soon. Dumbledore is, as always these days, nowhere to be seen.
“I wonder if they found the Horcrux,” you say under your breath to Hermione as she anxiously taps her foot against the kitchen floor.
“They did,” she says grimly, glancing impatiently at the clock. She has her thinking face on, brows furrowed and gaze distant. “It was in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Harry quickly told me before Mrs Weasley sent them off. I wonder when they’ll wake up though… They didn’t look too happy, and I have a feeling it wasn’t all to do with Nott.”
You nod slowly, a weight lifting off your chest despite the last part. If, after all this, they hadn’t retrieved the Horcrux, you think you’d probably have gone to the bloody cave yourself.
“Theodore’s resting now, anyway,” Hermione adds, giving you a quick glance as though she’s waiting for a reaction. You keep your face as impassive as you can, attempting a casual nod. “Madam Pomfrey says he’s healing nicely and his leg will be fine. It’ll just be a bit sore for a few days. I’m sure he’s awake if you want to go see him.”
“I might,” you mumble, shrugging. You try to sound flippant, but the urge to clamber out of your seat probably shows because Hermione rolls her eyes at you.
“Oh, why don’t you just put him out of his misery?” she asks, her words coming out at the speed of light, like she’s been wanting to say it for a while. You blink at her in shock. Sighing, she leans over the table and her tone becomes gentle. “I know he lied to you, and you should be angry with him for that! But… well, it’s been a really awkward few days with him asking us where you are every second of the day. And, technically, he was never really a Death Eater, he was helping our side!”
Hermione takes a deep breath and exhales, slumping back in her seat as she waits for your reaction. You try not to laugh. “How long have you been holding that one in?”
“Since the second he turned up here,” she says, sagely. “Now, don’t change the subject! Go and see him. Go on, off you go!”
You stand up, swiftly dodging Hermione’s flapping hands to try and rush you out the door. “Okay, I’m going. It’s probably about time anyway,” you grumble, a fond smile creeping up on you nonetheless.
Looking satisfied, Hermione stops trying to usher you out and you make your way over to the living room again. The door is open and you sigh with relief when you notice the room is empty, bar Theo who’s in the same position as he was the last time you saw him. His eyes are shut and you wonder if he’s sleeping until you step on a creaky floorboard and he cracks one eye open.
“Hey,” you say quietly, tip-toeing into the room to perch on the coffee table adjacent to the sofa. “Did I wake you?”
“Nah,” Theo replies, moving to sit up as much as he can. You suspect he’d have the same answer even if he was asleep. He looks a lot more awake than he did before and you feel your chest squeeze tightly when you realise how glad you are. Theo seems to notice this and he reaches over to hold one of your hands, detaching it from the way you grasp them both together. “I promised you I’d come back alive, didn’t I?”
You snort, shaking your head at his ability to be so chipper. “Alive and dripping blood all over the carpet. You know if Kreacher finds out it was you, he’ll murder you in your sleep, right?”
“It doesn’t count if I die now,” Theo protests, frowning as if you’re talking about a serious possibility and not joking. “Deal was you’d forgive me if I came back alive after finding the Horcrux, remember?”
“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think deeply about it as he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. It causes you to momentarily lose your focus. “What I remember saying is that I would think about it.”
Theo shakes his head, a look of mock concern overtaking his features. “I think the stress of my injury has gotten to your memory… What I remember is you vowing to forgive me the moment I stepped foot in this place.”
“I think Madam Pomfrey’s painkillers are getting to you,” you say drily, moving to kneel on the floor next to him.
“She didn’t use any,” Theo grumbles, looking mournfully at the bandages on his leg. “She’s really sadistic, I’m telling you.”
You laugh, ducking your head so you aren’t flustered by the way Theo’s eyes focus on your smile with a grin of his own.
“You know what she told me would help with the pain?” Theo asks quietly, his enviously long eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones as he looks down at you, almost nervously.
“Let me guess,” you say, sitting up so the distance between your faces is much shorter now. “A kiss to make it all better?”
“Healer’s orders,” he says, shrugging. His breathing quickens when you don’t move away and he swallows hard, eyes dropping lower to your mouth when you bite your lip to stop from cracking a smile. “I’m not saying you have to, but if you’re okay with going directly against her orders, then-”
You cut him off by pressing a lingering kiss to his lips and he inhales sharply, unmoving for a split second before parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Theo’s hands move to your waist where he uses his remaining strength to hoist you up onto the sofa next him, one of your legs thrown over his waist as you half-straddle him.
You gasp into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip and the sound he makes in the back of his throat has your cheeks warming up and you kiss him harder. The fact it’s been so long since you’ve even been near him has you both kissing for what feels like hours and you only pull away when you need to breathe and you’re worried you’re leaning on Theo’s leg.
Pulling away, you scan Theo’s face and pause for a second to take in his beautiful features. His eyes are blown wide like he can’t believe he’s here with you, kissing you. A warm feeling starting in your stomach spreads all the way down to the tips of your fingers as he looks at you.
“Any other very important requests from the Healer?” you ask breathlessly, feeling a shiver run down your spine where Theo lightly skims his fingers. A dangerous smile overtakes his face and his lips, pink and swollen from kissing you, curve up, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.
“I think she mentioned something about a sponge bath?”
You whack his arm and he yelps, grabbing your wrist to stop you assaulting him further. “Hey, I’m an injured patient!”
“Your leg is injured, not your arm.”
“It is now,” he says, pouting as he rubs dramatically at his bicep where you lightly thumped him. He grumbles when you roll your eyes and press another kiss to his lips to get him to stop pouting. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“Hm,” you hum, settling your face in his chest and sighing at the warmth of his arms, feeling him smile against your forehead where he kisses you.
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© angelfic 2023.
2K notes · View notes
cloudybarnes · 11 months
Text
bad idea right?
Pairing: theodore nott x reader
Summary: after theo breaks up with you, he pledges to make things right and do anything necessary to win you back. however, you are determined to make him work if he wants to win you over again aka part two to new beginnings
Word Count: 2.3k
Masterlist
a/n: LONG AWAITED PART TWO WOOHOOOO also this could be read as a solo instead of a part two if you really wanted, but here's part one in case you wanna read that as well ;)
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✰  ✰  ✰
“Please don’t tell me you got back together with him!” Ginny groaned. She sat on the edge of your bed as Hermione braided your hair for the night. 
“No, I didn’t get back with him. I told him if he really wanted to prove it to me, then he could.” 
“So you’re thinking of getting back with him.” She said disapprovingly. Hermione chuckled from her seat in the bed behind you. She was working on doing dutch braids in your hair. 
“I think it’s fine, Gin,” Hermione said. “It’s not as if she’s going to jump back in bed with him.”
You waggled your eyebrows teasingly to Ginny. She gasped and swatted your shoulder. “That’s so not funny, (Y/N/N). Just because you think he’s sexy doesn’t mean you should get back with him.”
Theodore broke up with you very unexpectedly. He barely even had a reason for breaking up with you, which left you heartbroken and devastated. You were in bed for a few days, had a good cry, and then you were back. 
Theo had tried to mend the broken bond between your relationship, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to take him back that easily. Your ego was high, and you knew you would be kicking yourself if something like that happened again right when you took him back. 
“Don’t worry, Ginny. If he really wants me back, he’s gonna have to work for it. He knows that.”
“Alright,” Hermione said as she tied off the end of your hair. “All finished. Your hair’s gonna look so good tomorrow.”
“Theo better be drooling when you see him,” Ginny said, “if not, I’ll give him a different reason to drool.” She made a motion of punching her fists together, insinuating she would punch him in the mouth. 
You chuckled. “Hopefully there won’t be any blood drawn. I don’t think he’d really wanna go through all the trouble if it just got him a busted lip.”
“Oh no,” Ginny grinned, “it would be more than just a busted lip. I’ve got five brothers, I’m known to throw a mean punch or two.”
“Lights out girls!” The prefect yelled as she knocked on your bedroom door. 
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’ll see you guys at breakfast. But for real, if Theo tries anything you know I’m right there for you.” 
You smiled, grateful to have a friend as awesome as her. “Yeah, Gin, I know. Thank you.” 
She smiled, “night guys.”
You two said your good nights as Hermione moved from your bed to her own. 
“What do you think he’ll do tomorrow?” You asked Hermione as she shut off the lights. You pulled the covers close to your body, waiting for her response. 
“I’m not sure,” she replied, getting comfy in her own bed. “Hopefully something sweet. He’s got a lot of making up to do if he wants to get back on our good side.”
You smiled softly, “yeah, you’re right. Night, ‘Mione.”
“Goodnight.”
✰  ✰  ✰
The next morning at breakfast, the owl dropped a letter in front of you.
“What’s that?” Ron asked, his mouth filled with food. 
Ginny slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. Honestly, you act like you were raised in a barn.”
“We were raised in the same house, you know.” He pointed. 
“What a shame that was,” she replied. 
You chuckled at their banter, and ripped open the seal on the letter. 
“What’s it say?” Hermione asked. 
You scanned over the words before you read them aloud. “It says,
(Y/N), 
I hope you know how much you mean to me. I was a fool to break things off with you. I only hope one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. 
Forever yours,
Theo”.
“Forever yours?” Ginny squealed. “That is so romantic.” 
Hermione raised her brow quizzically. “Weren’t you the one telling her not to get back with him?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “I can have mixed feelings about this. He breaks her heart but then he writes her a love letter. It’s got me confused, okay?” 
You chuckled. “I think it’s cute. It’s not gonna win me back, but it was an alright effort.”
“Oooh, what a burn,” Harry chuckled. “Poor bloke must’ve forgot how stubborn you are.”
You shook your head with a smile, “nah, he didn’t forget. If I know anything about Theo, he’s just getting started.”
“So, (Y/N/N),” Ron said, “do you want to get back with him or what’s going on with this?”
You shrugged. “I mean, obviously I still love him. It just sucks what he did and I don’t think he should be able to get off the hook that easily. He shouldn’t be forgiven for breaking my heart just because he writes a little letter.”
“I love you for that,” Ginny said as she nodded her head. 
“Hey, (Y/N/N).”
Looking behind you, you could see Enzo give a sheepish smile and a small wave. 
You grinned, “Hey Enzo, how are you? Sorry about yesterday, by the way, Theo’s a little crazy sometimes.”
He chuckled and awkwardly rubbed his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. But, yeah, no, Theo and I are all good. He apologized last night and told me all about his plans to woo you.”
You chuckled with a roll of your eyes. “Go figure.” 
“Yeah,” he smiled, “anyway, I just wanted to come by and resume how we were before, you know, the whole break up thing, and drop off this book I think you’ll like.” 
Enzo pulls out a book from his satchel and hands it to you. 
“Coraline?” You asked as you flip it around and skim over the synopsis. 
“Yeah, it’s kind of spooky and psychological which I think you’ll really enjoy.”
You grinned up at him, “that’s perfect. Thank you, Enzo.” 
He sent a tight lipped smile, and nodded before turning away and walking back to the slytherin table. 
“I like Enzo,” Ginny said with a dreamy look on her face. 
You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Go get him then. He’s a sweetie.” 
“You guys and those Slytherin boys,” Ron shakes his head with a scoff. “Not even that cute, I’ll tell ya.”
“Oh, what?” Ginny asked sassily, “like you’re cute?”
“I think Ron’s cute,” Hermione winked at her boyfriend. 
“Ugh, barf,” Ginny said. 
The bell rang. You all stood to gather your things for first class. 
“We’ll see you guys later,” you smiled as Hermione and you walked out to your shared first class. 
“That was a pretty cute letter,” Hermione said as the two of you started walking down the hall. 
“Yeah, I think it was sweet, but like I said, he can’t win me back that eas-“
“Excuse me?” Someone tapped your shoulder. 
Stopping, you and Hermione turned to see a younger Slytherin boy, presumably a first year, standing before you. 
“Uh, yes?” You asked confused, “do you need help with something?”
“Um, Theodore says I have to carry your satchel and books for you.” The first year stood awkwardly. 
“Oh, uh, that’s okay, you really don’t have to.” You blushed, a little embarrassed that Theo would make a first year cater to you. 
“I have to.” He said adamantly. “Theodore said he’ll set me up with this hot girl I like if I carry your books for you.” 
Hermione snickered from next to you. You turned back to her, a bewildered smile on your face as you tried not to laugh.  
“Well,” you said as you handed the young boy your satchel. “I can’t be the one to stop your true love, now can I?”
The boy grinned as he held on to your satchel as well as his. 
“Theodore is crazy,” Hermione remarks as you continue walking to your next class. The boy followed behind the two of you all the way to your first period. 
As soon as your classroom came into view, you could see Theodore standing there with a bouquet of flowers in hand. He grinned a devilish thing as he saw you approach. 
“I’ll meet you in there,” Hermione said with a knowing smirk. 
You walked up to Theo. He was beautiful as ever, but even he knew that wouldn’t get him anywhere. 
“Hi (Y/N).” He smiled at you then turned to the kid. “I’ll take it from here. I’ll have my guys put in a good word with Maizy for you.”
The kid nodded his head and smiled as he ran off. 
Theo threw your satchel over his shoulder and held out the beautiful assortment of flowers towards you. “For you, to say I’m sorry for being a douchebag and an idiot and a stupid motherfucker. All in the words of Draco by the way. Never knew how much he liked us together.” 
You chuckled and grabbed the flowers out of Theo’s hand. “Thank you.”
He smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, have you thought about what I said yesterday?” 
You sighed. “Of course I’ve thought about it Theo. Just like I’ve thought about how much you broke my heart when you dumped me.”
“Okay, I deserved that.” 
You chuckled. “Yeah. Thank you for the flowers, Theo. And… I still care about you, I just need time to figure this all out. I can’t just forgive you that fast when you broke my heart, just  last week!”
Theo sighed, “I know. I know! Fuck! I know I fucked up, baby, but I am going to do everything I can to win you back. I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait as long as it takes, baby, I swear it to do. The boys are down my back yelling at me for how hard I screwed everything up. They think I’m stupid, and I think I’m stupid too for letting you go. I promise you, I will do everything it takes for you to trust me again, mi amore.”
Your eyes softened. Theo knew exactly how to make your heart soar. 
“Theo…” 
“No, baby,” he shook his head. “You take your time. I’m gonna be here whenever you decide if you want to forgive me or not. Hopefully you decide you do want to forgive me.” He chuckled awkwardly. 
You matched his awkward laugh. “Well, thanks again for the flowers. They’re very pretty.” 
Theo smiled and nodded before turning around and walking away. 
✰  ✰  ✰
Later that night, you sat in the library studying for your Herbology final. Ginny and Hermione offered to help you study, but you knew you’d be here too late to want to burden them. 
As you flipped through the pages of your herbology book, you tried your best to take down any notes that you thought would be important. 
Your stomach growled. 
“Knew that was inevitable.” 
When you looked up from your textbook, you could see Theo sheepishly smiling as he held two trays from the cafeteria. 
“What was?” You asked with a smile. You cleared some papers to make space for Theo to sit down. 
He grinned and placed the trays on the table as he took his seat next to you. 
“Knew you would forget to eat while you studied for this exam.” 
You chuckled and peered over to see what Theo brought you to eat. Ham, potatoes, and stuffing from the dining hall. 
“Thank you, Theo. That’s really sweet of you.” 
He slid a tray closer to you, and you eagerly picked up the provided fork and dug in. 
Theo chuckled as you scarfed down your food. “Pretty hungry?”
You nodded as you finished chewing. Theo smiled to himself and started to take a few bites of his potatoes. 
“You’re being awfully sweet to me, Theo.” 
“Haven't I always been sweet to you, darling?”
“Well, yes. But that was before.”
Theo sighed. “I know I screwed up royally. I’m trying to make up for my mistakes. I’m still the same boy I was just a few months ago. I had a lapse in judgment and that cost me the best thing in my life.”
You frowned. “Theo…”
“Don’t you miss me, (Y/N/N)?” Theo shifted to face you straight on. He nervously leaned forward on the table, staring into your eyes, waiting for your response. 
“…of course I miss you, Theo. How could I not? You’re everything to me, and I’m just so scared of something like that happening again.”
“(Y/N),” Theo started. He tentatively grabbed your hands in his. “I promise you, with everything in me, if you decide to take me back I will never hurt you or disappoint you ever again. You have my word mi amore.” 
You were conflicted. You miss Theo like crazy. You couldn’t help it. No matter what you said to your friends about him having to work hard for you, it tore you apart every time you saw him knowing you still weren’t together. You missed being his. 
“Okay,” you said. 
“Okay?” Theo’s face lit up. “You-you’re giving me another chance?”
“Yeah,” you softly smiled, “I miss my boy.”
Theo grinned and yanked you toward him, engulfing you in a hug—one you’ve been waiting days for. You missed him. You missed being held by him. 
You held around his neck tightly, scared to let go. You never realize how much you craved his touch when it was gone.  
Theo buried his face in your hair, breathing in your scent. “God, I’ve missed you.” 
You smiled and pulled back. Theo smiled back at you. Slowly, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his in a warm, longing kiss. Your hands rested on his cheeks, his on your waist as you kissed with all the love stored up between you. 
When he pulled away, Theo stayed close with his forehead rested against yours. “I promise you baby, I’m here for good.” 
“You better be.” 
2K notes · View notes
sunsents · 3 years
Text
Content 2/2 - F.W (M)
Empty Chapter II
IT'S. OVER. Holy shit, this took way longer than I expected it to be. Yes, it’s 20k mf words and what abt it. Don’t look at me like that. I warned ya’ll 🙄. Now, I definitely made up some words while writing this. Like a shelved corridor, the heck is a shelved corridor?!?! Please tell me it makes sense…please for the sake of my sanity. The smut is kinda tame so I’ll whip out the chains on the next one.
CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE
Summary —> Years later you find yourself face to face with the person that caused your ruin - yet this time, somethings different.
Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader
Word count: 20k... honestly I completely get it if ya'll wanna sit this one out
Warnings: *deep breath* a poor attempt at humor / gingers / pining idiots / normal idiots / excessive cursing / fred weasley in slacks / alcohol consuming / very little angst (its mostly just overthinking) to fluff / minor character death / smut / oral, (fem) / fingering / cum play / sexual mf intercourse mfs / protected sex (dont be silly protect your willy) / dirty talk / sappy stuff
Rating: 18+
DON’T REPOST MY WORK
tagged: @opalsheart @ronsbadidea @uselessmoonlight @boxofbadaddiction @lovenonymously @sergeantkilowog @rudypankowisdaddy, @nobutfredweasleytho some names didn’t come up when I tried, so what do we get from this? I can't properly use Tumblr <3
Five Years Later, 2003
"____, will you just calm down." Aleyna lets go of the book box full of bathroom supplies and they clink together, to which you wince because these are your stuff and you’re in a far too dangerous position to lose more money.
"How can I calm down?!" you exclaim dramatically, tossing your wand on the nylon wrapped couch. "It's all Stacey's fault."
Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"
"That one chick from Magical Catastrophes who always has lipstick on her teeth."
"I don't think her name is Stacey though."
You send Aleyna a look that screams, stop being reasonable at a time like this. No, this was when you overpaid your TV cable to air The Twilight Zone and drank cheap wine while cursing out your boss who cared about your well being. Hermione had become The Minister of Magic, and of course you were proud of her. Though, this didn't mean she could let you have time off work whenever something insignificant happened.
"Probably not," you mutter, opening your fridge and coming face to face with the painful truth that it’s empty, and you’re hungry. Your hand unintentionally flies to graze over your scar as you survey your options, a small pack of ketchup and left over chips. "Suits her though, feels good to say 'Goddamnit Stacey' when something goes wrong in my life."
Stacey deserves it because Stacey doesn’t refill the staplers on purpose.
Aleyna snorts, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "What did Stacey ever do to you?" Then she wheels across your new apartment to retrieve more boxes from outside.
You’re grateful for the support of all your friends, but the pitying looks they give you whenever someone mentions the words house and fire is enough to fuel into your secret want of setting their houses on fire. It was an accident, you were just trying to make the delicious recipe Molly had sent you, ignoring the small fact that you didn't know how to properly use an oven. The savings you lost from your bleeding bank account were not worth pasta with tomato sauce on it.
Though, your new apartment is big, bigger than your first because after making a name for yourself as an Auror money came easily. Wide walls for a projector TV, long tail shaped couch standing firm on varnished wood floorings, and two bedrooms that have their own - kind of unnecessary - bathrooms. Not to mention the giant kitchen with an island, only rich people had islands, where you could make plenty of Italian recipes and not worry about burning the house down because Aleyna fool-proofed it for you.
The flat was at the top floor of the new bar she just built, and she was kind enough to let you start renting the place. The residents of Diagon Alley had been fighting for this apartment for months, and you were proud to have snagged it before anyone could even offer.
Gripping the last two boxes, Aleyna pushes the front door with her foot and navigates herself backwards through the other dozen boxes you had just tossed on the floor. "These are the last two, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" she offers.
You shake your head, "I can just use magic, not in the mood for pursuing the muggle lifestyle right now."
Aleyna frowns, this reaches her eyes though. "That bad huh."
Simply nodding, you don’t bother getting into an in depth rant about how a simple fire didn't mean you had trauma, and that you didn't need to stop working for a few weeks. Not that being an Auror was hard, your work days have been quite uneventful if you didn't count a few "Revalutioners" sticking a muggle's head in a toilet.
"I know what will cheer you up," Aleyna chimes, already clad in her pea coat and sneakers. "Dinner, and it's on me."
You couldn't possibly say no to free dinner, also making food for yourself was probably not a good idea right now. Stay clear of ovens, you reminded yourself.
After getting snug in your coat and fluffing your hair, you fall on step next to Aleyna as the two of you chat.
The London cold is brutal, shivering whomever until their noses turn red and making their hands feel itchy when sudden warmth overtook. You’re used to it, as is anyone in Diagon Alley. People are crowding the stores, chatting loudly and waving their wands around at stores to reserve whatever crappy gifts they were going to buy for their family's.
You hate the holidays, refusing to go back to America and visit your own family. Your mother couldn't cook, nor could your father. Though, that didn't stop her from insisting every year and giving you, your father and the Burke's food poisoning.
After three years of sitting through awkward family dinners where everyone ignored the fact that you were almost Head of Aurors, and focused on Eva's collapsing career of Healer only to praise her, you had about enough and stopped attending. It had been two years since then, they didn't bother to write. Your dad occasionally sent you money in a horrible christmas card with an even more horrible pun written in red glittery letters that also sang Run Run Rudolph.
"Ugh, everyone's crowding the joke shop aga- oh." Aleyna pauses. "I'm sorry."
She knows about your past with Fred Weasley, considering whenever you rant about work it ends up with you cursing him and Eva out. He had such a blame-able face, just like Stacey from Magical Catastrophes.
You give Aleyna a look. "You act like I'm not a grown woman who can't get over something that happened eight years ago." you say, shaking off the small snow particles that begin to lightly fall. "You should be like this with, I don't know...my relationship with Theo! We broke up last year, why aren't you fragile with him, hmmm?"
Aleyna claps your back in a friendly manner all the same. "I know I know, but come on. This is childhood trauma we're talking about."
"Now that I think about it, seeing Eva's coochie was traumatic." you grin, and Aleyna's jaw gape even if she heard the story hundreds of times before. Not that Eva's...modesty was bad per say, just not a pleasant sight seeing as you guys grew up together.
Other than that fact, you hadn't talked, even seen Fred after the war ended. Sure, you occasionally stole glances at their very successful joke shop, but there was no point in dwelling and trying to fix an already withered away friendship.
You had fixed your relationship with Ron and Harry, having had no choice since the three of you worked together. "You were right ____, we were assholes. You don't need to apologize." they had told you, and that was that. The two families and well, you did weekly dinners and enduring the two men for Ginny and Hermione got easier as days passed, finally ending up in a good friendship like old times. It was casual between you, easy when no one mentioned how abruptly your friendship ended. No one dared to either.
Also, Harry was your boss and him remembering that you called him a drama queen wouldn’t do you any good in your career.
People bump at your sides as the two of you squeeze your way towards Sacree Fleur. The end of Voldemort brought a new, reformative era in the Wizarding World. Diagon Alley expanded, new buildings were built and culture grew. You were happy to see that Ollivendar's Wand shop renewed, along with other crumbling buildings that needed desperate attention.
Bandits lessened, and the utter arrogance some parents had by not sending their children to get magical education faded, partly because there was nothing to fear, and partly because more job opportunities arose, like said, money came easily.
Fleur Weasley, your good friend and someone who had done the impossible and won over a Weasley brother - though she was gorgeous and possibly the sweetest person you've ever met, so really they were perfect for each other - had decided on a whim to open a french restaurant. Bill couldn't say no to his wife, the rough man you had met years prior was softened with age and the struggle of raising children.
Good wine, deliciously soft steak that melts in your mouth and warm atmosphere that makes five o-clock feel like midnight. It’s by far your favorite restaurant and you'd much rather spend your Christmas Eve curled up next to a warm candlelit dinner on a terrace.
"Bonjour!" an obscenely attractive woman, Fleur greets the two of you when the revolving glass doors are pushed, and you break out in a wide smile seeing your friend at the door. "____, Aleyna! Come here, give me a big hug!"
"Fleur! What are you doing here?"
With dopey smiles, the three of you embrace.The door closes on it's own, and you shiver unintentionally, just now realizing how cold it is. Usually the big marble fireplace keeps Sacree Fleur warm, but even that seemed not enough and the restaurant is adorned with small muggle heaters, floating up above the ceiling and adding to the red light of the candles.
"You'll see. Came at a most amazing time too, silly girl always knowing when to show. Saw all the juicy drama when you were younger..." Fleur continues to joke lightheartedly, pulling away and leading the two of you through occupied tables as she faux scolds. People are content, it feels warm and almost soft. Conversation seems to flow easily and the unease you feel for the Holiday melts. Almost.
You blech whenever someone brings up the line ‘love is in the air’. It never made sense to you, because love was simply a fairy tale that would wither away with time. Also, how could love simply float? Of course, unless you count Amortentia fumes - which yours always smelled like sweat and crushed hopes. So frankly, you prefer expensive Dior perfume in the air rather than love.
Though now you find yourself doubting whatever you engraved in that well protected head of yours, love is truly in the air at Sacree Fleur. All kinds of love, mothers lovingly wiping food off their children's mouths, happy newlyweds clinking their wine glasses together with nothing but adoration in their eyes, friends enjoying sharing a simple dinner far more than should be done.
"My family, they're upstairs having dinner. The kids like the ice cream here, Mr Fortescue provides it well."
"Family? Ginny and Hermione are here?" you ask, lazily climbing the steps to the second floor to reveal the more, private part of the restaurant. Now, instead of wooden chairs with red cushions attached at the middle, there stand long booths with comfortable blankets and pillows with empty, eerily clean tables - except one.
The long table near the terrace is much livelier today, people sitting there whom you consider your own family. The three post luster that hangs low from the ceiling is turned on - it’s the first time you’ve seen the glamorous glass orbs in action. Its light ricochets off of several bright orange heads, simply calling it a lamp does no justice. The hue is yellow, low and it reminds you of the Christmas Eve fantasy you planned.
Said orange heads turn at the noise of delight you let out. "Oh Fleur! This is gorge- oof-"
"Auntie ____!"
A pool of orange locks squish into your stomach, snug in the soft fabric of your coat and you let out a chuckle. You can’t help it, even if you would never admit, he’s your favorite by a small number that-
"Well well, if it isn't Teddy Lupin."
The small boy chuckles, hair matching your black coat like a chameleon sticking itself on a flower and absorbing the color of the petals. You ruffle Ted's hair as the orange fades, he’s delighted to see you, and so are you yet your attention is quickly cut off by several disembodied voices thrown your way.
Bill Weasley is standing up, wine glass on one hand while grinning wide. “Look who my dear wife brought in!” his tidy yet visible scar stretches when his face brightens, you remembered again that day, just how much love you have around you.
“Hey everyone, hope we’re not interrupting.” you apologize, wincing but Bill quickly shakes his head and pushes his chair back.
You waddle your way towards the marble table, Teddy following suit with his face still smushed in your coat. He grips you tighter and you have to peel his small little limbs off your legs.
Aleyna scoffs, arms crossing together as she surveys Ted. “The blatant favoritism!”
Teddy rushes on his little legs to jump in Aleyna’s arms, and only then are you able to acknowledge the other - a little less important - people in the room.
“Happy holidays!” echoes around your head as several people embrace you all at once, and you have to simply stand and awkwardly loop your arm around whoever you can get a hold of.
Once the formalities are over, Ginny throws her arm around your shoulder. The red tresses of her dress hike up her leg from her slightly bigger stomach, and you can see the small broom tattoo on her thigh that she loves to display like a trophy. “You should’ve told us you were coming! We would have saved you a seat.”
A round of yes’s resonate around the room, and you take a quick moment to scan who’s afternoon dinner you’ve just interrupted. Hermione, hand resting on her very pregnant belly, is smiling warmly at you, and Ron quickly shoots up from his seat and wipes his mouth to catch up to his wife. Harry follows in his friend's wake, his hair has a white streak at the front and you furrow your brows.
“Age catching up with you Potter?” you grin, rubbing Ginny’s back fondly before she separates from you and greets Aleyna. “Or is it the pregnancy?”
Harry scoffs, pulling you in his embrace for a quick friendly second. “Always the charmer ____. I’ll have you know I’m handling it wonderfully, right Gin’?”
Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”
Harry’s face feigns faux disbelief, and it quickly melts as you bombard the man with questions about how Ginny’s first trimester is going. You mentally take note of asking Ron about Hermione’s as well, your two best friends are fucking pregnant. It’s almost too happy, and slowly the anxiety creeping up from your spine wraps around your throat, ready to suffocate you whenever.
It was always like this, the past ready to make it’s deathly move, because nothing is perfect. Happiness doesn’t come this easily.
And you’re right, because not only a minute after the warm embraces of your friends comes the voice of the person you’ve been dreading to see.
“____?”
And then, you’re suffocating.
He’s a man. Of that you’re sure, because now his muscles stretch well over his broad shoulders, maroon satin shirt loose on his frame, tight around his biceps - properly sculpted of course - portraying defined collarbones.
His eyes are somewhat duller, though the same glimmer of loveable mischief he always had is evident. It will never go away, even after all these years, yet it’s tamer. That mischief caused him quite the trouble back in school, and now it seems he knows when to act, when to speak and when to stay silent.
His silhouette catches you off guard, his features are sharper, much sharper than how much Harry has matured. His biceps bulge obscenely when he rests his - also generously sized you might add - hand on the table, and the table suddenly doesn’t seem that long.
His forearms, on display with his sleeves rolled up, glistens under the soft lighting of the balcony. Your eyes fall on his bracelet adorned right wrist, one of which in particular catching your attention.
He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.
His face, always glowing, wears a large expression displaying his set of perfect teeth. He’s awestruck, you think.
You watch him push his large body out of the small chair, and wow chest, is your only thought. Then further down and...god damn thighs. Burly thighs - probably very comfortable too - squeezed in black tight fit jeans, however he managed that you don’t know but it was nice to imagine.
He’s leaned back, casual as he strolls towards you in two large steps, his long sculpted legs never disappointing.
Fred Weasley is genetically designed to ruin you and your insides with just one look, and you’re ashamed to have realized it all too late because when he speaks again you swear you saw stars.
“Wow - you,” he breaths, walking towards you with slow, unsure steps. “Grew!”
You raise a brow, Aleyna snorts. Grew? His steps should be unsure, because you want him to take them back, sit his fine fit ass back on that chair and pretend he never saw you.
Because this wasn’t your plan for tonight, seeing him wasn’t in your checklist. You woke up today, thinking nothing but coffee and a stressful moving day ahead. Not of the boy - the man you’ve been in love with since childhood, the man you blamed for your problems as an excuse to hide the heart squeezing pain of loneliness, the man you hadn’t seen in so many years you forgot what his voice sounded like.
You could have never guessed, and now you want to go back. Somehow rewind the clock to this morning when you were safe of your tucked away feelings trying to bulge, safe in your own little circle. All your efforts of leaving your house just a little early so you wouldn’t run into Fred seems stupid now. Your strategy ran smoothly for five years, it could’ve ran for more.
You would have continued avoiding him like your life depended on it, and his stupid joke shop, and the way he stupidly looked at you everytime he saw you. You’re reminded again, because no matter how older he looks he’s still Fred, and he still looks at you the same.
“I mean - beautifully! Shit I - fuck.” he groans, and George claps his brother on the back with a chuckle. Wherever he came from, because you were so entranced by Fred that you didn’t see George standing tall next to his family.
“____.” George stops before you, hands in his pockets. it happens too quickly that you’re forced out of your panicked state.
You raise a brow, and only then - Fred’s out of view with George’s figure towering over you - are you able to find your voice. “George.”
He pulls you in his tight embrace, “How come you never visited!” he scolds, chest stretching back to bring you with. “You’d think she’d bloody say hello once in a while! Maybe drop by our shop after 5 years, you quack!”
“George - can’t,” you heave and your legs wobble when he sets you on the ground again. You clear your throat, grinning widely at your...friend?
It would be fair to call him an acquaintance, right? You don’t know where you stand with the twins but you have love for them. This is clear from the way you can’t stop smiling like a sappy idiot - or perhaps it’s because of how contagious George’s smile is. You thought they hated you, but the youngest looks anything but displeased. He gives you a squeeze again before throwing an arm around your shoulder.
“I thought - I dunno. I thought you guys didn’t wanna see me.”
George scoffs, “Because you told us off that one time in seventh year?” he laughs, arms folding and displaying a set of bulging biceps much like Fred’s. “Yeah mate, you’re not that intimi-“
“George Weasley, finish that sentence I dare you!”
His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”
Someone clears their throat.
It’s Frederick Weasley, probably here to beat you to death.
“Hey Fred.” you greet, mouth dry. Get a grip, you scold yourself.
Fred opens his arms, “Well well,” he laughs, pulling you into a hug with a polite smile. His cheeks tint red when you shuffle closer, you would have missed this but you’re a creep, and you can’t stop staring at the beautiful man before you. He displays his beautifully indented smile lines, as if he was saying look at me! I’m perfect and sexy, I also broke your heart that one time, too bad I had no idea!
And it’s true, Fred never knew about your feelings. You kept them well hidden and they ate away at your organs from the inside, there was no reason to blame him. The realization is probably what compels you to accept him with open arms and wrap them around his neck.
You feel him shiver, dismissing it quickly because of the cold.
He smells good. Way too good that you melt in his arms and let him engulf you in his dangerous warmth. Manly, musky cologne, mixing with hints of cigar smoke that lingers on only certain areas of his shirt. You recognize the scotch in his breath when he whispers how much he had missed you, and his nape still has that cinnamon deliciousness he would parade whenever he came out of the shower, you fought the urge to shiver yourself, and it’s not because of the cold either.
It’s dizzying, and before you can start a detailed essay about how good his muscles feel, firm and digging into all the right places, he pulls away.
The past hits you like a ton of fucking bricks and crumbles down the firm foundations of the walls you have been building for eight years. You feel guilty, have you learned nothing? The loud pounding of your heart is a warning, yelling at you to stop getting swept away. Yet you can’t control it, just like how you can never control your feelings.
“I missed you guys too.” you breath shakily, you have to make sure to keep your distance. For your own good, you tell yourself.
Teddy pulls away your attention, and you silently add buy Teddy an expensively dumb toy to your checklist.
He sticks to your leg and is adamant on staying there. “I grew taller.” he says, looking at you between his eyelashes. “He says I didn’t, but I know I did!”
You chuckle, ignoring how Fred looks at the boy with such a warm expression, ignoring the way your heart nearly catapults out your chest.
“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.
Ted immediately lets go of your leg and straightens, hand going to his forehead to salute you. A giggle escapes him when you bend on your knees and act like you have a measuring stick on your hand. “Oh yes yes, seven feet tall and growing.” voice mock deep, you nod sternly.
“By this rate - I’ll pass you! Hah!” Teddy stomps his little foot on the stone floor, little sneakers barely making a sound.
You stand up again and fold your arms, “Well, I grow too you know! You can never pass me.” smirking slyly, you egg him on to see how much he’ll endure before he demands a ride on your shoulders - because that’s how giants saw the earth he told you. You doubt giants compare to a twenty four year old woman with attachment issues
Ted stands on his toes, struggling to tug on your shirt and bring you down. “No, I don’t like this game anymore…”
“Alright alright.” and with that you pick him up and prop the little boy on your shoulders.
Ted happily kicks his feet on your chest and you groan. He’s supposed to be five, not a midget wrestler. “Easy buddy boy.”
“You’re amazing with him, little twerp barely lets me tie his shoes.”
Fred’s voice startles you, only now do you realize that he had been watching you and Teddy. Speaking of, Ted’s busying himself with your hair, small hands pulling and twisting locks and mumbling incoherently.
Ear tips slowly catching fire, you chuckle. “Buy him a broom at four and see how he handles it.”
Fred shakes his head, tongue poking at the side of his cheek and you remind yourself to breathe. “You spoil him then? They say the way to a five year old's heart is money.”
“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”
Nuff words said, everyone soon sits on their designated chairs, and you pull one from another table, being the uninvited one.
Aleyna isn’t slick, you knew she had something up her sleeve the moment she had offered to pay for dinner. Though, this is your fault. You let her without calculating whatever end result was waiting to catch you off guard and ruin your entire life plan to avoid Fred Weasley.
Being the snake she is, snake Aleyna enticed you with nice food, dragged you to Sacree Fleur and did her little snake magic.
Awkwardly angled next to your best friend, you chat with Harry and Hermione while they tell you what you missed from work. (Not that you missed much, actually nothing different seems to have happened other than boring paperwork and Mrs Newersman’s new hairdo.)
Swirling your wine in one hand, the reflection of Fred from the rim of the glass keeps distracting you.
He’s changed, not personality wise though there were tweaks. Nor looks, he’s an adult now and his boyish charm is gone, but it isn’t quite that.
You can’t put a finger on it either, and you watch him laugh, carefree with his sister.
He looks relaxed, or maybe it’s merely the wine. Is it - no, couldn’t be. He looks happy. Genuine happiness and adoration for whomever. Love in his eyes as he looks at - Ah. He’s looking at you.
You jerk your head away and tip your wine glass back to gulp down liquid courage - because you need it tonight.  This is bad, you tell yourself, kick you on the shin and punch to your gut bad. This can’t keep up or else you’re going to end up right back in that hollow pit of empty hope and gooey saturday lasagna.
“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”
Ron’s timbre voice thankfully grips your arms and pulls you away from said hollow pit.
“Uhh what?” you cough awkwardly, setting your now empty wine glass down.
“Christmas Eve, what are you doing? Going back home?” Ron asks, raising a brow.
You can lie but something compels you not to, maybe it’s how warmly they always welcome you, how they’re welcoming you now with open arms and nice food.
You shake your head, answering honestly; “No actually, I’ll just celebrate with Jambo and Christmas movies.”
And that’s exactly how you’ve been spending your Christmas Eve these past few lonesome years. It wasn’t that lonely, you had Aleyna and people loved her bar, you’d drop by and count down with people you didn’t know, at least you got to kiss a random stranger.
“Jambo? He’s still alive?” Hermione chuckles.
“No no, this is Jambo Fitzwilliam the Second, who is also a cat but don’t you dare tell him that!” smiling, you joke lightheartedly to conceal the harsh news.
Your hand reaches to trace around your scar as you speak.You know their eyes follow, and you know they stare at it when you’re not looking. Teddy asked you one day, even after Ginny’s scolding but you happily told him your heroic story and how Bellatrix smelled like piss and rum.
Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.
Jambo had unfortunately passed away because apparently dogs couldn’t live two hundred years, which you were disappointed because clearly Dumbledore could. You had already grieved and mourned, it left you with the happiest memories of your precious dog and you were grateful.
“Poor kitty doesn’t know he’s adopted?” George frowns, banging his fist on the table.
You roll your eyes, “I’m sure he’s caught on by now, he’s three.”
“So, you’re spending Christmas Eve alone?” Fred asks, too suddenly and you flinch. He probably sees this, his effect on you.
You nod, and your friends gasp. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, or maybe it’s because of how normal it felt for you to be alone.
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ginny says, hand shooting out to rub your arm.
“I’ve been trying to get her out for ages-“
“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.
“No Aleyna, do!” Ginny protests. “You’re spending it with us and that’s that.”
“Wha-“
George throws up his finger to shush you, “No objections!” he declares fiercely. “We’re having a party at our flat and you both are coming!”
“Oh! Unless you and Blaise have any other plans.” Hermione’s quick to ask, she isn’t being slick though.
Aleyna chuckles, “We had dinner reservations but we can make it.”
Hermione grins, and you watch Aleyna pretend that she didn’t notice her friend ready to snoop in her relationship with an amused smile. Not that it matters - she and Blaise have that kind of love you hoped for as a young girl. There was truly no two other people so perfect for each other.
“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”
Aleyna takes a sip from her almost empty glass and tuts on the bitter after taste. “Amazing, actually. He just got promoted…”
Almost empty glasses are soon emptied bottles, and two steaks turn into a large brownie for the middle. You know that it’s a good meal, because as you stand outside in the midnight cold, arm around Aleyna, your legs wobble and your stomach aches from all the deliciousness you’ve consumed. More like inhaled, you only realized how hungry you were until the second steak arrived.
“Thank you so much you guys!” you wave your arm, overly theatrical, forgetting about what a day you’ve had.
Though, the thoughts catch up as you lay awake in bed.
It had gone by too quickly, and your heart is still beating louder than any chirping of the bugs outside. Your bedroom lacks furnishing, it only adds to your wild imagination. Your mind paints pictures on the blank walls as your eyes dart around, Fred didn’t look in your direction once that night.
Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.
It’s strange, whenever you turned your gaze his way, he seemed to be busying himself with whatever, whether it be his fork or napkin. How interesting can a damn napkin be? Hopefully not any lesser than you.
And are you just going to ignore that goddamned bracelet? The one you carefully sculpted with beads in such a way that you were sure Fred would suspect at least a drop of your raging crush. He’s still wearing it, that piece of string and glass - the symbol of your love and effort - survived through a war.
Are you reading into things? Surely not, he greeted you as anyone else would. Or maybe he remembered - you don’t dare think of that night.
How can they act so normally, so brazen after everything? It’s been almost six years since you saw them, have they got nothing to say to you? Maybe an apology?
Frustrated, you turn to your side and force your eyes shut.
————————
When night bleeds into morning, every cat has a tendency to quip over to their owners on their cushioned paws - which makes no noise but simple claw scratchings on the floor.
Jambo’s no different.
So, you’d imagine the poor creature's shock when he finds your bedroom empty. If he’d bothered to check, you’re seated on your island stool, pen and parchment in hand and mug of hot coffee (instant given the circumstance) in the other.
You hung your new curtains this morning, and were making use of them by shutting them halfway on the hooks while your window stood half open. You watch the snow flurry outside and gulp. If this week was to go horribly wrong... at least you have nice curtains waiting for you at your ritzy new apartment.
Jambo wraps his tail around your dangling ankle like he always does and you barely hum in acknowledgement. He’s purring, and it brings you comfort even if it’s for a small moment. But your question still remains unanswered, What would a five year old boy want for christmas?
It had been exactly two days since Ginny invited you to spend Christmas Eve together, and you busied yourself with buying them gifts - a tradition you hated because 1. coming up with gift ideas is infuriatingly hard. It’s way too time consuming, nit picking every single personality and deciding what they’ll like and what they’ll pretend to like. Pretend like they’re going to use it, and then never touch it until that one very specific occasion.
Maybe it’s excessive, but you actually like these people. They somehow give you - a sad, lonely sewer rat that’d been a neglected child - joy.
And 2. you feel like those people you make fun of every Christmas. Though, somewhere deep in your heart, you know you enjoy being those people. You would never admit it though.
What? You actually relish in the idea that you belong to a group, and that said group causes you to carry out cliche holiday traditions?
Absolute blasphemy.
Finally deciding, you leave your apartment in warm but cher clothing. It isn’t as crowded this morning - or maybe it’s because it’s seven forty in the crack of fucking dawn. Though, with the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed, it feels like ten.
Would they even be open, you ask yourself, jogging quickly about the streets on your heels to avoid the cold. It’s Christmas, they have to be.
Of course your logic sucks.
Shivering, you round the corner tea shop and fasten your pace. Ass freezing, lip tucked in between your teeth, you realize you have underestimated the morning London cold.
Soon, thankfully, the giant head of George(?) you assume, comes into view. The animatronic is motionless, big porcelain eyes closed and displaying sinister gaping holes. You shiver, and not because of the cold either.
Keeping your eyes low on your feet, you push the glass doors of the shop open. You don’t bother to check the inside from the generous glass displays, it’s way too cold and you don’t want to spend any more time outside with the giant George doll.
A bell rings, a little jingle up above that puts a smile on your face. Jambo’s collar jingled like that whenever he got excited, whether it be a pesky squirrel ready to bum off your house food, or maybe a friendly one showing its face to piss off the house dog.
You sigh, and only then notice the delicious scent of fresh coffee roast. Invading through your nostrils and turning you into a drunkard, and you can’t help but gravitate towards-
Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.
“Who's here so early, couldn’t a man enjoy breakfa-”
You smile apologetically, it’s only natural that Fred just woke up. He isn’t a morning person, after years of knowing him you found out one way or another. In your case, he was mean to you and that’s when it clicked. Fred doesn’t like the early hours of morning, where his hair isn’t as tame and his lips feel like they’re about to pop. You find it charming.
“____?”, the man of the hour comes into view, standing at the top of the spiral staircase. The first step is a rung, rolling on the hinges of the wall's edges. The staircase rattles when Fred steps down, and you quickly jump forward in panic.
Mug in one hand, his fingers rake through his mussed morning hair then settles on the checkout counter. “Morning,” He smiles, and those dang smile lines greets you, as if they’re mocking you again.
“Morning, I know it’s early and-”
“It’s okay, have you had breakfast yet?”
Taken aback, you nod. Disappointment flashes through his face, and before you can analyze he straightens. Taking a sip of his coffee and humming, he fixes his pyjama bottoms. Red and checkered, loosely hanging from his hip and giving you a teasing view of his lower abdomen. “Can I get you anything?” he asks again, adamant on offering you something.
You shake your head no and you watch his face fall. Merlin, you would have come starving if it meant having breakfast with him. The view before you is enough to fulfill your darkest fantasies, and this is enough. Because you know that this is all you could get. His friendship.
But is it though? Is it truly enough? Will it ever be enough?
The questions that linger around your head have an answer that you wouldn’t dare set free. Everything you’re doing right now is wrong, how you’re standing in front of him, letting his delicious scent compel you further into him.
He smells almost alluring - he always does - less piquant than yesterday. Probably the after taste of neglecting a shower, yet his natural fragrance is just as charming. You remember those mornings at the Burrow when Fred stumbled down the stairs, sun early and bright, woken up just like himself. He smelled ama-
Woah, down girl.
Fred clears his throat, and only then do you realize how long it has been since you spoke.
“I need to buy something.” you blurt. Fuck, this couldn't get more embarrassing. “For Ted, his gift.” You finish lamely.
“Ah,” Fred chuckles, giving you a quick lookover. You flush. “You have come to the right place.”
It’s true, the shop is truly...something. A gateway to heaven for anyone twelve or younger. Fascinated, you take your time to linger your eyes on every little nook and cranny that catches your eye.
The shop feels much tamer without the telltale rowdy crowd, it’s almost comforting. You can really see a piece of each twin on each display, Fred’s being the Deflagration Deluxe. ‘A deluxe selection of Weasleys’ Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs’ read on the big cardboard. You chuckle, he always had a bag full of them that he carried around religiously.
“Those!” he exclaims, scurrying over to the display, “New and improved by yours truly.”
You chuckle, and Fred breaks out into a smile. “Here, I’ll show you around.” he mutters, before you can utter a protest, he takes your hand in his and drags you to a shelved corridor. “This is his favorite section, explosives and quidditch.”
You smile as you scan the heaps of colorful products lining the walls, all engraved with the shop's signature logo. Fingers coming out to touch a few, you subconsciencly swing your encased hands together. “These are real neat.”
Fred smirks, though his palms feel hotter than usual, “Not so much when he’s blowing up the bloody flat.”
You chuckle softly, eyes fluttering to imagine little Ted shaking up a pair of fireworks, unknowingly setting them off and resulting in a giant black mark on the ceiling. Because only that explains the small black stains on the walls of the shop.
“See anything you like?” Fred offers, almost in a whisper.
“No I,” you turn back to him, and something flashes between the two of you. “I’m still…looking.”
The air feels tense, warm, affecting your body. Your breath catches in your throat, Fred’s eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t know what to do. Even your breathing feels on edge.
He moves closer to you and your heart flutters. His exhales hit your ear, only a breadth away from your neck and you flinch. Chills lift up the hair on your arms, “No...erm.” you mutter.
“Alright.” he says softly.
His eyes are hooded, displaying a perfectly long set of eyelashes.
How, is the question. They’re long and thick, and you’re jealous. Yes, you might have ruined yours with your curler but still, if you were born with eyelashes like that you wouldn’t even need a blasted curler.
“What are you thinking ‘bout.” he whispers, long digit lifting to stroke your cheek. So soft that you barely feel it, before he trails it up your cheekbones, to the panes of your face.
The same alarms blast in your ears, and you can’t ignore them this time. It isn’t that you don’t like this, on the contrary you’re ready to jump him.
“Eva!”
Fred takes a step back, face falling. “What?”
You shake off whatever just happened seconds ago and focus on reality. “Gosh, I forgot to ask.” you exclaim, over excited but at what cost. “How is she doing? Is she up there in the flat?”
Fred winces. “Actually-”
“I’m guessing you guys moved in together, after all those years you know. Don’t tell me you guys got marr-”
“____!” he takes a deep breath, “We broke up a few years ago.”
You freeze. “What?”
They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”
Fred shushes you with a finger. Embarrassed, warmth spreads through you like a tidal wave. “I fell out of love, but it felt nice to have someone around, you know?”
You don’t say anything, yes you know but his loneliness and yours is much too different.
Growing up, Fred had the support of his family, he always had someone there. You knew it was bad to dismiss him like this, but the aching in your heart wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that. He always had someone affirming that it would be okay, someone to pat his back whenever he scored a goal through a hoop, whenever he got a good grade or did a cool trick with his broom. He still had them, even if he was at his worst. He had endless support. You didn’t.
It wasn’t easy after the war, living alone with nothing but the collar of Jambo gripped tightly in your hands. He had died shortly after Voldemort fell, and you had to hang onto the last piece he left until your agony died down. That was your only support.
Ginny, Hermione and Aleyna were there of course, but everyone's way of coping is different, and they didn’t understand yours nor each other’s. It’s worse to try and forget, run away from that fear because it would always catch up with you, and you found that the best way is to sit and feel.
But that doesn't mean your friends weren’t any less supportive. The after effects of the war were way more harsh on you than you let on, you were stuck on autopilot - a painful loop that made your life feel worthless. Work, money, survival - the three main aspects occupying your mind at all times. You didn’t have the love and attention to give to friends or a relationship (maybe that’s why it never worked out) but soon, Ginny and Hermione had reached out to you.
It was a simple letter delivered by their family owl Nebula - a descendant of poor old Errol. You remember tears pooling in your eyes when they told you how much they missed you, they gave meaning to your life. It was no longer the painful loop, they invited you over for dinner, visited every other day after hooking up your house Floo Network, you were always a welcomed guest in their homes.
They made you realize that friendship didn’t need much energy nor hard effort, just being there for each other was enough. Love for someone came naturally, and you didn’t need to extract some of your own self-love to give to others. They were two different things.
Skimming past that, you watch Fred show you three different options of Make Your Own Fireworks kits. You smile solemnly, accept a random one and quietly follow him to the checkup counter.
“So.” he starts, wrapping the product with the paper design you picked. “How about you, anyone special?”
Drumming your fingers on the counter, you shrug. “I dated Theo Nott for a year, I knew nothing would come out of it but like you said, nice to have someone.”
He raises an eyebrow, “Nott? Really?” he frowns. “Can’t believe that tosser managed to-”
You snort, “What is that supposed to mean?”
Shrugging, Fred hands you the package. “Nothing, it’s just that -” he pauses and his eyes look at you like you should know what he’s talking about. As if the two of you have some sort of telepathic connection, Fred was always like this.
He would look at you like you understood a word you said, even though he’s been silent for the past minute or so. He always struggled to express himself, and you’re sad to see that this habit followed him into adulthood.
Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”
“Nevermind,” he sighs. “That’ll be twenty five galleons.”
“Twenty what?” Your eyes widen. “You heartless man!”
Fred gapes at you, struggling to keep a straight face.
“Twenty five, to your oldest pal? Twenty and a stick of gum.”
Fred pretends to think. “How about you keep the gum and give me twenty four.”
“Twenty two.” you narrow your eyes, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh come on, it’s Christmas!”
Fred scoffs,“I am giving you the holiday discount!”
Grumbling, you reluctantly stick your hand in your purse and take out your wallet. “I won’t forget this. You’re in my book.”
Fred gasped dramatically, “Not the book!” he exclaims, “Twenty two then, please for the love of merlin not the book.”
You lift your chin, head tilting to the side to survey him mockingly. “Twenty two it is, you won’t get away so easily next time.”
The two of you giggling, you pay him the money and leave a few sickles. “For the great service.” you say, him pretend-blushing at your words and tucking a strand of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.
He speaks after some time, the laughter has died down and left it’s comforting after taste. “I missed you ____, why didn’t you visit?”
That turns the after taste into pure panic.
How can he ask that when the answer is so obvious. Fred’s still cruel it seems, he doesn’t bat an eyelash as he speaks. He knows the reason.
“Oh you know,” you start after some time, “Work and stuff.” you lie, and fight the urge to cringe at your words.
Though Fred doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t push it either. He simply nods, looking down at the checkout counter. You’re glad he’s avoiding your gaze, because it makes your departure much easier. “See you at the party Fred, thanks for the...uh. Yeah.” you awkwardly lift your bag up and give him a wave before pushing yourself outside. You can finally breathe.
——————
You look good.
Or, at least you think you do.
Blaise was arriving in exactly seven minutes and you barely just put on your dress. You’re sure of this because Blaise is always on time, he even has an unnecessarily expensive watch on his right hand that he obsessively likes to check. At least Aleyna’s into it, frantically trying to strap her heels, she’s wriggling herself towards the front door to somehow track her lover. You don’t know how love works, maybe they can smell each other from a mile away or something.
Shaking your head, you fluff your hair and wipe a hand across your under eye after wetting it with your tongue. You think Aleyna calls for you, you’re not sure because you’re too occupied trying to decide if you’re going to wear lipstick.
“Hey,” you walk out of your bathroom door and scurry towards her, “should I?”
Aleyna raises a brow. You scoff, “Stop doing that, you know I can’t raise mine individually.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“I’m about to make it your problem too if you don’t help me.”
As reflex, you roll your eyes. You only do this because you know it reminds Aleyna of that one chick from Blaise’s workplace - she knows no boundaries, apparently. It’s a shitty move, but it’s a shitty world.
Aleyna carefully inspects the two products you hold tightly between your hands. A simple shimmery gloss and a nude, almost dark red lipstick you stole - borrowed - from her. “Depends, who are you smooching?”
Throwing her an incredulous look, you hold out the two products on your palms. “I’m not smooching anyone.”
Unless of course Fred Weasley asks, if he does you would pull out makeup wipes from thin air and jump into his arms with naked lips ready to be kissed. Though, that’s only a fantasy and Fred is emotionally unavailable...scratch that, you are.
You’re not sure how tonight is going to end, and you can’t help but be aware of that looming clump of anxiety, clutching on your chest and refusing to let go until you're assured that it’s going to be fine.
“The gloss, just in case.” Aleyna stops your train of thought before it trashes off its tracks and crashes somewhere in Fred McDreamy land.
You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.
Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.
“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”
Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.
“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”
Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.
You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”
The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.
For a moment, you forget where you’re going.
Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.
Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.
Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.
You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.
The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.
You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.
Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.
You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.
“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.
“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.
“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”
You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”
George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”
When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.
The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.
Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support
“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.
Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.
You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.
“____!”
Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.
“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”
Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”
“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”
You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.
“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”
Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”
Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.
“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.
Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.
“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.
“I think you know why,” says Harry.
“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.
You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’
You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.
Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.
Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?
He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.
It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.
You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.
You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.
“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.
“Merry Christmas yourself.”  he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.
His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.
“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.
“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”
Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”
You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.
“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.
Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.
Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”
You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”
“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”
“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.
Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”
When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.
“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”
Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.
Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”
Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”
It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.
“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”
A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.
“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.
You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”
“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”
You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”
You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.
“What I meant to say was, I wan-“
“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”
When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.
The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.
She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.
But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.
Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.
“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.
You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.
Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.
Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.
“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”
Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”
She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.
“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.
Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”
Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.
You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.
Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.
“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”
He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”
“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.
He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”
“Well what changed your mind?”
Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”
“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.
It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.
Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.
The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.
“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.
Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.
You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.
“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.
Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”
You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”
“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”
“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.
Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”
Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”
Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”
Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.
Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.
Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”
“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?
Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”
“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.
“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”
You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.
“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”
Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.
“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “
You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.
“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.
You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.
Eva stutters, “What?”
“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”
“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.
“No, he won’t.”
When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”
She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.
“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”
“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.
“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”
By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.
Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.
Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”
You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.
“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.
“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”
Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.
A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”
“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”
You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”
Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.
“Yeah, you!” you cry.
Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.
“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”
——————
Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.
If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?
Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.
You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.
“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”
“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”
Fred’s expression softens. “What?”
You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”
Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.
“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.
“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”
Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”
Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”
You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”
You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”
Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”
“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.
“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”
You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.
“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”
Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”
His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”
“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”
Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.
“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.
“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”
“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”
Fred freezes - second time that night.
Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.
Fuck fuck fuck.
You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.
But it was too late.
Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.
“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.
“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”
You almost swallow your tongue.
Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.
Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.
He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.
“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.
“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”
“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.
“That’s Freddie for you, love.”
Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.
“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.
You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.
“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”
“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”
“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”
“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”
“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”
The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.
“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you come back?”
Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”
“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.
“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”
That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.
Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”
“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”
You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.
But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.
Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.
Fuck.
It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.
“Finally!” George yells.
Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”
Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.
If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.
Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,
The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.
Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.
Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.
“____.”
You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.
“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.
You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”
“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.
“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.
“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.
You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”
“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”
“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”
George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.
“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”
“Took you long enough.”
He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”
“I won’t.”
Your lie slips so easily.
It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?
You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.
You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?
“____.”
Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.
“____, darling.”
Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.
“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”
Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”
You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.
Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.
“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.
Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.
“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”
There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.
Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“
“Yes it does, and stupid!”
“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”
Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”
“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”
“That doesn’t explain the rest-“
“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.
“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“
“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.
I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.
“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”
Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.
Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.
“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”
This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.
————
It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.
Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.
Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.
Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.
Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.
Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.
Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.
And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.
“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.
“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”
Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”
“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“
“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”
You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.
Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-
Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.
You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.
The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.
Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.
Knock Knock
Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”
You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“
By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.
“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.
He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.
“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”
You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.
“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”
“Thank you.”
Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.
As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;
“Fred I-“
“I wanted to-“
Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”
Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?
“Fred,-“
“No, let me finish this time.”
You stay silent.
“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”
“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.
“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”
“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.
“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”
You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”
Fred raises a brow.
“Sorry, continue.”
“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“
You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”
“I did.” you smile.
“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”
“Near what?” You gasp.
Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.
“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”
“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”
Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”
“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.
But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.
“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”
Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.
“I was thinking of you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”
Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”
“Oh.”
You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”
“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.
“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.
He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”
“Do what?”
Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.
He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.
“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”
He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”
You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”
You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.
True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.
“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”
If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.
“Fred, don-“
Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.
“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”
You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.
“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.
He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.
His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.
Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.
Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”
You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”
Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.
He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.
“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.
“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”
You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”
Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.
His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.
He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.
“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”
“Then - ahh Freddie!”
“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”
He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”
You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.
“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.
Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”
His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.
That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.
He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.
“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”
“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.
But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.
Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.
“Really?”
“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”
Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”
“Wha- which one?”
“The white one.”
Your eyes widen. “Oh.”
“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”
You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”
Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”
You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.
“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.
Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.
Of course he has abs.
You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into
You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.
“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”
When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.
His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.
Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”
You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”
“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.
Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”
You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”
“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.
“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”
Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”
You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.
Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”
Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.
You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”
“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.
“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”
It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”
The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.
Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”
“I love you too - oh!”
Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”
“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”
His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.
lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.
“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.
“Fred! Oh god - ah!”
Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”
The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”
He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”
It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.
“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”
Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.
“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”
His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.
You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.
Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.
“Well shit.”
“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.
Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.
“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”
You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”
Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”
“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”
“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”
You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”
Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.
You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”
After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.
The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.
“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.
He hums in response.
“You’re staying over, right?”
Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.
You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”
“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”
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slyttherins · 3 years
Text
Post battle | Draco Malfoy x Reader
Summary: After something traumatic happened during the Battle of Hogwarts, you are in complete shock and has only one thing in mind: finding Draco
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader
Word count: 969
Square filled: Post battle
-
The battle was finished - Voldemort had been vanquished -, yet your fingers were still tightly gripping your wand, ready to fire hexes and counter-spells at anyone who'd aim at you. Your tights were ripped on the leg where you had tripped and you could feel blood dripping on your forehead - nothing alarming though.
''Y/N! There you are,'' someone said, coming toward you. Ginny.
You didn't react, hands trembling as you stood in the middle of the hallway, in complete shock.
Another set of feet followed Ginny's, lighter in their step.
''It's over, Y/N,'' Luna' soft voice informed, her delicate hands covering yours as she lowered your wand. ''The battle is over.''
Slowly, your eyes found hers, blue-grey like-
''Draco. I need to find Draco.'' Your words sounded almost robot-like.
''He's not here-'' Ginny started, but you didn't let her finish.
''He has to be somewhere in the castle,'' you said sharply. ''I...I can't lose him too.'' Tears filled your eyes, but you didn't let them fall, afraid you wouldn't be able to make them stop.
Before you, the girls shared a confused look. Ginny opened her mouth, about to ask questions, but you walked away, ignoring your friends who were telling you to come back, and went in search of your lover.
.
You frantically searched through every classroom of the castle, taking every staircase to every floor. Most classrooms had been partly destroyed during the battle, desks and chairs resting on the floor in a puddle of dust and broken wood. Some stairs were falling apart too, but were still usable.
On the second floor, you recognized a boy from your Potion class, laying on the ground, half of his body covered by a massive brick. His eyes were open, but he wasn't breathing. How could he with a piece of wall crushing his lungs? Your breathing fastened, horrified, and you stepped back, almost tripping through the debris of what must've been an explosion.
To your left, pieces of glass littered the floor, coming from the busted window just above. You carefully stepped on the glass, having no other choice and was about to take the staircase to the fourth floor when you heard his voice.
You almost didn't turn around, worried you had imagined it, but something inside you knew it was him. He had emerged from the hospital wing with Theo by his side, hair a mess and black dust on his cheek.
Draco abandoned his friend and came up to you, relieved to see that you were alright. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight, but you were too in shock to return the gesture. He frowned, your lack of response alerted him.
He saw the cut on your forehead and got worried you might have a concussion. ''What happened to your head? Did you hit it?''
You shook your head.
Draco performed a quick episkey, making the cut heal and disappear.
''Have you seen Blaise?'' Theo asked, joining you. He looked around for his friend, but the Slytherin boy wasn't there.
Blaise.
''He's-'' You interrupted yourself, voice caught in your throat, unable to say it.
''Where is he, Y/N?'' Theo pressed.
''Don’t pressure her. Can’t you see that she’s not well?'' Draco warned the brunet. He understood that Theo was worried about his friend - he was too -, but you were clearly in shock and pressuring you would only make the situation worse.
''We were duelling on the fifth floor. I got cornered by Dolohov and Blaise came to my rescue, but another Death Eater fired a curse at him. H-he's dead.'' After the word left your lips, you broke down, emotions crashing over you. Tears streamed down your face and you couldn't stop them.
Losing people was inevitable in a battle, but he thought Crabbe would get killed first. Not Blaise. He was a skilled wizard, it didn’t make sense.
Draco exchanged an apologetic look with Theo before shifting his eyes back to you. Blaise was dead. Theo started crying in silence, mourning his friend. Draco wanted to cry too. Blaise was his friend - one of his closest friends.
''Someone needs to owl Mrs. Zabini. I say we go back to the Manor and-''
''Someone needs to get his body. We can’t leave him here, Draco. They’ll put him with the Death Eaters. Blaise wasn’t a bad person. He can’t be with them, they’ll tarnish his name.''
You were rambling at this point, but you weren’t wrong. All bodies who had the death mark on them would be put together and registered by the aurors as Death Eaters - followers of Voldemort. Blaise may have had the mark, but he never did anything bad. He never killed anybody.
''We can't stay here, Y/N,'' Draco explained. ''The castle is falling apart and you're in shock. Mother should have a few calming draught vials at home. Perhaps a sleeping potion too-''
Your head snapped up. ''No. I'm not tired. I don't want to sleep.''
It was false. You were exhausted, but you didn't want to close your eyes, forced to relive your friend's death every time you'd do so.
Blaise's flipendo had knocked Dolohov into a wall, saving you from his curse, but another Death Eater with dark blond hair had just gotten up and was aiming at Blaise. You wanted to scream at him to look out, but it was too late. That bloody killing curse had hit him.
Draco kissed your temple, but didn't fight. ''Okay. Let's at least get you clean up.''
''I’ll go look for Blaise and meet you at the Manor,'' informed Theo.
Draco nodded and disappeared with a crack.
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jadedxrealityw · 4 years
Text
-Strange Girl- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader
    ♡~🐍~♡
    Request:   can you do one where draco realizes he likes the reader and wants to kiss her but he is scared so once she is by herself one day he goes up to her and kisses her and he is embarrassed but she kisses him again 🥺🥺 and she’s a hufflepuff
    Kody: This is gonna be a short one, but sweet nonetheless.
    Year: 7th
    House: Hufflepuff
    Possible Triggers/Warnings: fluff overload, Draco being a nervous wreck because i like torturing him. 
    ♡~🐍~♡
    herbology was your favorite class at Hogwarts. Plants and learning about their magical properties were just something you found extremely interesting. It was also where you met your soon to be favorite person. Draco Malfoy had been chatting it up with his friends and go himself a detention after lunch.
   being you, you spent most of your time in the herbology classroom. So after lunch when Draco Malfoy went to serve said detention you were there, but no professor? How strange. He had thought he walked into the wrong classroom for a moment.
    Roll Flashback
   “Professor Sprout?” a males voice called out. Startled, you quickly go to stand up, but hit your head on the table you were under instead causing a loud thud and slight pain. “Ouch!” you squeaked, reaching up to rub the top of your head with the pal of your head to sooth the pain.
   “Who the bloody hell are you?” turning your head, your met with cold grey eyes that bore deep within your soul. Draco. Malfoy. Damnit. “Um Y/n L/n, Hufflepuff, 7th year- uh sorry!” you sputter, being intimidated by this tall platinum blond Slytherin.
   he raises a brow and looks around “Where the Professor?” he asked, referring to the first statement he had said. “She usually just asks me to watch the ‘troubled kids’ as she calls it, but they just end up leaving because i’m not threatening in the slightest. She gave you a list of stuff to do i presume?”
   you lean down and pick up the empty pots from the ground you had dropped before you got there, keeping your hand up so he could hand you the paper. Draco looked at you weirdly. You were fully aware of the fact people chose to walk all over you? ‘What a strange girl’ he thought.
  he nonetheless reaches into his robe pocket to hand you the sheet of folded up parchment. His fingers grazed your hand as he slipped it in your palm. You felt your face flush slightly, but grab it anyway. You lean back up, placing the pots on the table and use one hand to unfold the paper, quite skillfully.
   you eyes scanned the few items on the list and you smiled gleefully ‘How fun’ you thought. You turn your attention to the Slytherin and nod once “Thank you. Now just avoid Sprout for like an hour and you should be okay. I suggest just hanging out in your common room for now”
   Draco’s blinks mindlessly for a second or two. “How- How come your just letting me leave? You seem like a goody two shoes. Why not just rat me out?” a amused smirk played on his lips as he spoke. You reach under the cupboard and grab the bag of soil that was under, placing it down.
   you look up at the ceiling, indicating you were thinking “Um- well, i believe that we shouldn’t have to ‘do extra’ for a class we aren’t really interested in. I, on the other hand love herbology, so i don’t mind the extra work. You rather do something in Alchemy right?”
   your words seem to catch him off guard How did you know that? He crosses his arms with a distasteful look “Oh so your some bloody stalker aren’t you?” he hisses, which makes you twinge a bit, but you stand your ground “We have been in the same potions class since first year. You speak quite loudly”
   you let out a small laugh, but Draco just huffs and makes a dramatic exit ‘Strange bloody girl’ he thought while storming off
    ♡~🐍~♡
   after that, Draco began to take notice to you in potions class. For someone who liked herbology a whole lot, you exceeded in in potions almost as well as he did. How in his right mind had he not seen you before? Maybe it was because if a person didn’t wear a green lined robe, he tuned them out.
   a month or so would pass and we would continue getting detentions in herbology, but would actually aid you in his own punishment chores this time. You both made small talk and Draco grew to like your company. You didn’t seem to be afraid of him, well not to much.
   you also found yourself growing closer to the Slytherin, but in a romantic way. You just couldn’t shake the feeling no matter how hard you tried. What really got you was when he took off his robe and vest and rolled up the sleeves of the white collared shirt. It. Was. Hot
   but out of the herbology classroom, you were nothing more then the strangers you were a month ago. Your friends had convinced you to try and get over him because it wouldn’t result in anything other then avoidable heartbreak. Draco on the other hand was a oblivious idiot. 
   “So let me guess, when you talk to Y/n you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, your palms get sweaty, your heart rate starts to pick up, and you kind of want to kiss her?” Blaise explained, brow raised in a amused manner. Draco’s jaw dropped, dropping his book “How do you know that!”
   the tall Slytherin boy chuckled “because you won’t stop talking about her. Its driving me, Theo, and Pans up the wall. Just ask her out” he shakes his head. Theo and Pansy nod from there side of the sofa in agreement “Please, we beg you. It’s so obvious you like her. Its painful” Pansy groans.
   Draco’s pale face turned a light shade of pink as he clicked his tongue “I do not like Y/n. That’s absurd! She’s a Hufflepuff anyway, what would my father think?” he crossed his arms. “In case you haven’t noticed mate all three of us are still alive and well”
   “What does that mean?” Draco asked, a confused expression on his face. Blaise sighs deeply and lifts his hand that is interlocked with Theos “All three of us? Gay. Pansy? She’s dating Ginny Weasley. A Gryffindor girl. We are living proof that your father will be pissed, but won’t shit” Blaise xplained. 
   Draco seemed to have an epiphany and pushed up and off from the black loveseat. Tripping over his feet, he zoomed out of the Slytherin common room leaving his friends slightly stunned “What do you think he’s going to do?” Theo asked with an excited smile.
   “Trip over some stairs and die at this rate” Pansy let out a snort. Blaise shook his head and stood up from the sofa with Theo “Will be in my dorm room, alone. Bye Pansy” Blaise spoke quickly as he began to drag Theo into the halls. The brown haired Slytherin boy smiled and waved “Bye Pans!”
   seconds later Pansy grumbled “I hate being single- oh wait. Ginny!” she yelled as she followed Draco out of the common room to find her girlfriend. 
    ♡~🐍~♡
   running down the halls of Hogwarts, he made a sharp turn to the exit. He pushed open the doors, the cold air hitting his exposed skin. He should not have ran out of the common room only wearing a black t-shirt with dark grey sweats. He even forgot shoes and was only wearing socks. What a lovesick boy he was. 
   he made his way behind the school to the greenhouse where he had met you all those weeks ago. Hoping to find you there. As the pale boy pushed the door open, there was no one to be seen. “Y/n!?” he shouted, but nobody came.(Someone has to get that reference please)
   a confused look played on his features. Your always here and now your not? He had no time to mull over that fact and left the greenhouse. Searching the school felt like hours, when in reality was only about ten minutes. He had even waited outside the Hufflepuff common room for awhile.
   waiting had only made his heart race more in anticipation. He wanted to see you. He needed to see you. He soon found himself walking back to the greenhouse. “Draco?” his head snaps up like an owl. There you were with a confused expression,  E/c eyes looking up and down his body.
   why wasn’t he wearing shoes? It was also dreadfully cold out and he didn’t have any jumper of sorts, while you looked as warm as a marshmello. “Why don’t you have shoes. Are you alright?” you asked, worry clear in your tone. Draco didn’t answer, just walked towards you.
   you raise a brow, placing the bag of soil on the ground. As soon as you lean back up a pair of lips clash with yours. His lips move against yours in a feverish way, almost hungry. Draco pulls away and looks down at your shocked face. Oh shit. 
   “Oh- no. I apologize for that. I- I didn’t- well i did mean to, but i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m going to kill Blaise-” he was forcing words out which seemed to bring you back to reality so you could grab a fistful of his t-shirt and bring his head down to your height.
   now it was your turn to kiss the shocked boy. It didn’t take him long to react because his hands found your hips rather quickly. he stepped closer, pushing his chest against yours. Kisses eventually got more sloppy before he pulled away for air “I- uh- wow?” he said, unsure of what to say. You chuckle softly.
   “Yeah, wow. Now let’s get you inside. Your so cold” You say, grabbing his chilled hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. He nodded slowly “Please” he said, a small smile forming. You both made your way back inside the school, holding hands and smiling. 
   “What in the bloody hell just happened?” Cedric asked, looking towards the  Gryffindor boy who had watched the whole scene with him.
   Harry seemed to sputter a bit before answering “i- i have no clue. We should do that though” 
   “What?”
   “Nothing!”
    ♡~🐍~♡
   Kody: short, sweet, kill me im so tired. Anyways peace. I also ordered a Draco Malfoy love letter on etsy, so when that comes in February, expect a post about it lmao. 
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