#weasley fan fic

[blackbirdie1234]

The Best Admirer

Fred! Weasley x GN!Reader

(Friends to lovers <3)

This is a Gender nuetral fic. I have only ever written for Fem! but I tried my best to use language that was GN. Let me know if there is anything I can do to improve!

a/n: Sorry for taking so long with this fic. I wanted to try something different. You and Fred are in your sixth year, also scabbers isn't Petter Pettigrew in this he is just a rat lol. Thank you for all the likes and interactions! I'm glad you all like my content. Feel free to request more Harry Potter fics for any character! As always feel free to interact and comment :) Not proof read!

Summary: You have been receiving letters from a secret admirer for weeks. The only problem is you are in love with Fred Weasley, who acts like you are best buds and nothing more. What happens when the secret admirer decides they are done sending letters and wants to meet in person.

This is the sixth letter you have received in the last two weeks. Not that you aren't flattered, you just wish that this "secret admirer" would reveal themselves already. You aren't the most patient person, you never have been and all these letters are pushing your curiosity.

The first letter was lovely. You had never had someone pay that much attention to you or at least tell you about it. It made you start questioning who this mystery person was.

"Dear Y/n, A few days ago I saw you sitting in the library, catching up on DADA homework. I have never seen anyone look so ethereal. How can someone look so unearthly, while doing something so mundane? The way you stick your tongue out ever so slightly when you are writing, or when you bite your lip when you are focused on something so intense makes me melt. I've never seen something so perfect. I hope I don't sound creepy, but I wanted to express how amazing you are to me.

Love, your secret admirer."

After the third one, your curiosity increased. You had no clue who it could be. Valentine's Day was coming up and you wondered if your admirer would reveal themselves soon. As selfish as it was you only had one person you hoped this could be.

Fred Weasley

You and Fred have been friends since the first year after he defended you against a seventh-year student who thought it was funny to make fun of your glasses.

Fred has always been a good friend to you. You're close to George as well, but it could never compare to the connection you have with his brother. You and Fred understand each other in a way no one else could. You didn't develop a crush on him until your third year, but ever since then, your feelings have only grown.

It's a cold and wet February day, not that you mind. You've always found comfort in the rain.

You are walking to class with a group of your friends, holding the latest letter in your hand, when you hear distinct laughter behind you.

"OI, BUNNY!" You hear footsteps bounding behind you as you turn around to see Fred and George sharing a wide smile and jogging to catch up to you.

"I'll catch up with you lot later." You wave to your friends as they continue walking to McGonagall's classroom.

"Bunny please tell George that I am your favorite Weasley. He seems to have it in his diluted mind that HE is the favorite and that just cannot be true, can it?" Fred smirks, knowing you would choose him over George any day of the week.

"Hmm, but you aren't." You hold back a smile as Fred's face falls in confusion and George's eyes perk up in interest.

"Yeah, yeah I thought you knew. Scabbers is definitely my favorite Weasley." You say with a smile as you start walking.

Fred's face turns from confusion into full disgust.

"You choose A RAT over ME?? A literal RAT." Fred says sounding appalled, only having to take a few steps until he's beside you, George following suit.

"I don't blame her, he is way less annoying than you" George remarks, a smirk appearing on his face before his brother pushes him into the corridor wall.

"Why do you hurt me so, love?" Fred feigns a frown, clutching his chest as if you've injured him.

"I am sorry darling, how will I ever repay you?" You respond, giggling softly at the boy's overdramatic ways.

"Hmmm, profess your undying love for me and maybe I will forgive you" He spoke with a mischievous grin, dodging your hand barrelling towards him with a laugh.

"In your dreams, Weasley" You retort, rolling your eyes but turning away to hide the blushing smile creeping upon your face.

You, Fred, and George walk to class, lowering your heads as you walk in the classroom trying to be discreet so you don't feel disappointment in Mcgonagals gaze when she sees that you are late as always.

You normally sit with Fred but decided to sit next to Hermione today, you wanted to read the note without Fred questioning what you were doing. You NEEDED to figure out who this mystery person was. It was eating you alive. Fred would just complicate things, he would probably try and read the letter and you did NOT want to explain what was happening. And yes maybe it was because you were secretly hoping it was him, and him seeing the letter and not knowing what it was would ruin that thought for you. So you were keeping it a secret. At least until you figure out who it is.

You kept reading the letters over and over again. You were obsessed at this point. Whoever this was obviously knew you well, they write as if they've known you for a long time. They would add details that you are sure you have only told a few people. They knew your favorite color, flower, and food, they even knew that you preferred to keep your hair long and over your ears because you felt insecure about it. If they weren't so poetic and sweet in their words you would be creeped out but you could tell this person was genuine, just by the way they wrote to you, as if you were someone worth writing for.

The next few days you became distant from everyone around you. You stayed to yourself in class, at the library, in your dorm. You wanted to figure out the letters so you decided the best way to investigate and you needed there to be no distractions. Even though you are an introvert you at least talk to your friends, especially Fred and George. All you could think about though was those stupid letters and who it could possibly be. You ruled out the majority of your friends, as you only have a small group of them.

You begin reading another letter.

"Dear Y/n, I must confess, I've admired you in secret for quite a while now. I've been enchanted by your beauty, intelligence, kindness, and your grace. I am scared you will not look at me the same after finding out who I am. I fear it will affect our connection. I just can't love you in secret anymore. So I have decided to explain how I feel in these letters in the hope you will understand exactly how I feel about you. I am not always great at expressing how I feel out loud so I hope this will make up for it. I admire you for many reasons but here are a few I can point out. I admire the way you carry yourself with such confidence and poise, yet remain humble and kind in your words and actions. Your inner beauty reflects the outer, captivating all who have the privlidge of seeing it. I will reveal myself soon my love. For now, I will continue to send these letters and poems as a reminder that I have loved you before, I will love you now, and I will love you after. With love, your secret admirer."

As you sit by the black lake re-reading the letter in your hands, you are pulled from your thoughts when you hear your name being called in the distance.

"Y/N" You hear, voice loud despite being almost a football field away from you. You know who it is obviously, you could recognize that voice anywhere. George. You slam your book shut, the letter hiding beneath the pages.

As the boy gets closer you wonder what he's doing alone. It's strange to see him without his brother by his side, both walking in sync, talking or laughing about the next prank/invention they are going to whip up. So seeing him walk up alone was very odd.

"Hey bunny, where have you been?" He questions sitting next to you, taking his shoes off making sure not to get dirt on the blanket scrawled out beneath you both. Bunny a nickname given to you by Fred in your first year on the ride to Hogwarts, he told you it's because your eyes and nose reminded him of a bunny and coincidently it is now your patronus.

"Oh you know, just been busy with potions work. Snape has really pilled it on this week, just trying to make sure I stay on track" You say trying not to show the nervousness buried beneath your smile.

"Fred and I could've helped you with that, Snape may be sick of us but we are damn good at potions" He replies with a cocky smirk, not noticing the lie. You're glad Fred isn't here because he would have seen right through you and questioned you until you spilled.

"Did you need something, not that I don't enjoy your company but you came down here with a sort of determination" You laughed softly while speaking, showing your amusement at the ginger's abrupt greeting.

George's face lit up as if he remembered something important and then reached for his pocket.

"Actually yes" He grins while pulling a pink-tinted letter. A letter that looked all too familiar.

Your eyes widened in surprise. What the HELL was George doing with that letter. Your mind raced as you tried to remember if you might've dropped or misplaced one of the letters, but that couldn't be possible since you kept them in your nightstand with an enchanted lock. You tried to hide your horrified expression as you thought just for a second that George was the one who was sending you these letters. Just as you were about to speak he cleared things up.

"I was told to give this to you, urgent matter" He wiggled his eyebrows while handing it to you, a boyish grin on his face the whole time.

You took the letter with hesitation staring at it, then looking back at George dumbfounded.

"Who gave this to you?" You questioned, shaking the letter with your hand.

"You'll just have to read it and find out I guess" He answered, not giving you much before standing up and placing his shoes back on his feet. Not before you see the small grin that he is obviously trying to hide.

You sit there watching him walk away, not knowing what to think you open the letter placed in your hand.

" Dear Y/n, Hello love, I hope you are well on this beautiful day. By the time you read this letter, I will be preparing. I have sent George to find you and give you this letter for a very special reason. If you want to meet me and know who I am, I will be at the astronomy tower tonight waiting for you. Meet me there at 9 o'clock tonight, bring your wand ;) Love, your secret admirer."

He wants to meet, tonight.

You look up to see the sun setting behind the water and realize it is time for dinner.

You immediately get up and flick your wand, effectively clearing your area of the lawn and packing up your things neatly into your bag. You snatch the bag and run to the castle.

You sit down next to Fred, he looks up at you with a smile. You realize you've been ignoring him for the past couple of weeks. You've been so busy with these letters you haven't even been sitting with him at dinner, as you normally always do.

"Oi Bunny, finally decided to sit next to me have you?" Fred says in a fake annoyed tone, not hiding the smile on his face when you look at him with guilt.

"Don't act as if you haven't missed me dearly darling" You speak, falling back into the playful banter you're used to.

"I'm not acting anything, love. I can't believe you left me with the kids, I've had to get a second job to pull the load" He fake sobs putting his face into his hands.

You rub his back laughing "Oh I am so sorry, honey. I'll buy you a new broom to make up for it."

His head shoots up with a smile "All is forgiven, buttercup"

You both laugh as George and Lee look between the two of you with confusion on their faces.

"You lot are so odd," George says laughing.

You enjoy the rest of dinner throwing banter with your friends, soaking in the time spent with them. You didn't realize how much you missed them until now. You wanted to enjoy this before you met your mystery person tonight.

You didn't realize you were staring at Fred the whole dinner until he looked at you and asked if there was something on his face. You responded by tucking your face away as it turned beet red.

"What should I wear? What if this is a prank? What if it's a first year or something?? Oh god, was I too nice to that one Ravenclaw in the great hall last month when he spilled milk on himself and I helped him clean it up???" You rant, pacing back and forth in your dorm.

Your friend who was sitting on the bed in front of you stands up grabbing your shoulders.

"Calm down! Breath!" they say shaking you back and forth, making you look at them.

They push you onto the bed and walk to the closet while talking.

"It is not a prank, you are a catch! I'm surprised you aren't getting letters from every person at Hogwarts by now" They say winking at you cheekily. "It is not a first year, especially not that Ravenclaw bloke" They answer putting clothes on the bed next to you in stacks. "If you want me to be honest I think it's a certain redhead who is always ogling you from afar without you noticing." They look at you waving their eyebrows and smirking.

"Who? Ron???" You ask with a look of disgust.

"No, you can be so daft sometimes you know" They roll their eyes in disappointment. "Fred, of course. Who else looks at you like you hold the stars in your eyes"

"Fred? No way." You put your head down hiding the blush threatening to rise to your cheeks. "He most definitely does not look at me like that. Besides, I think he likes Angelina." You can't help the jealousy raging in your chest as you think about it.

"What? No way! She and George have been going out for weeks now, they follow each other around like lovesick puppies. You've been so busy focusing on these letters you just haven't noticed." They speak knowingly as they pick up an outfit and hold it up for you to try on, pushing it towards you.

You breathe out in relief at the new information, standing up and heading to the bathroom. More of your roommates come into the dorm and help you get ready, excited for you to finally meet the person who has occupied your thoughts for the past few weeks.

Every time you come out of the bathroom you get their opinions and then shoved back in with 20 more items. After an hour, you finally walk out of the bathroom and the room is completely silent. Everyone is in awe just staring at you, mouths open.

"What?? What's wrong?" You hurriedly speak, looking down at yourself and then back at everyone with concern on your face.

Everyones face lights up and they start speaking all at once.

"You look amazing!"

"You're so hot omg!"

"Who is this lucky git who gets to see you like this"

They flood you with compliments, all agreeing this is the outfit you NEED to wear tonight.

Girl outfit ideas 1,2,3.

Guy outfit ideas 1,2,3.

Gn outfit ideas 1,2,3.

(Feel free to imagine any outfit you want these are just some ones I like)

Your friend takes your hand and drags you to the full-length mirror in the middle of the room, a big smile on their face, placing you in front of it and showing you the outfit in all its glory.

"You have to wear this, you look amazing. Anyone would be lucky to see you in this on a date like wow." They say in awe, everyone else in the room sharing their looks and sounds of approval.

They give you some accessories and pull the outfit fully together. You do your hair put some makeup on, look in the mirror, and smile.

Getting ready helped ease your nerves but now that you are ready and you have to wait all of the anxiety is coming back full force. The overwhelming thoughts flood back into your brain.

What If I don't like the person?

Can someone really like me this much?

Should I even go?

Before you could get too lost in your thoughts you heard the clock.

Dingggg, dinggggg, dingggg

You look up and read the time.

Shit I'm going to be late

You take one last look in the mirror and grab your wand before leaving the dorm and sneaking down the stairs.

You sneak around the castle making sure to not run into any prefects or Filch. When you get to the tower door you take a deep breath before continuing up the stairs.

When you walk into the tower the doorway is lined with candles leading to the middle of the room, as you continue walking you see a blanket with flower petals lying around the beautifully woven cloth. A wicker basket sits in the middle of the blanket, overflowing with bread, pastries, cheese, and jam.

As you are processing the sight before you, footsteps coming from behind you make you freeze.

"I almost thought you wouldn't come" A deep husky voice comes from behind you, giving you goosebumps across your skin.

Fred?

You turn around slowly, your face showing the shock you feel in your bones.

"Y-you?" You stutter releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Disappointed?" Fred questions, a shy smile on his face but you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

"Is this real? I mean are you being serious?" A mix of questioning and genuine shock bleeding into your words as you speak. You feel as if the room is spinning as you try to grasp the reality of this situation.

"Do you think I would joke about this? Come on Bunny, I know I make jokes and pranks but I'm not a foul git." Fred laughs trying to ease the tension that lingers in the space between you before he continues.

"I have felt this way for a very long time, I just haven't known how to tell you" He walks towards you slowly, and you finally sink back into the moment enough to see the flowers in his hands.

"(Your favorite flower)" You say softly, staring at the beautifully arranged bouquet in his hands. "How did you-"

"In the third year, you had a muggle book of flowers, you left it in the common room one day and when I returned it to you I noticed a particular page that looked more worn than the others. I just figured this was your favorite. Other than that it just suits you. If I were to imagine you as a flower I'd guess this one." Fred looks down and blushes as he realizes he just went on a rant about you as a flower but quickly tries to save his confidence by looking back up and stepping closer to you holding the bouquet out for you to take.

You look into his eyes and then at the flowers before taking them. You were completely and utterly dumbfounded. Never in a million years did you believe this moment would ever happen, but you couldn't be happier.

You smile brightly at Fred. "Thank you, Fred. Genuinely, this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me."

"For you anything" He replies, looking down at you with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes.

He offers his hand for you to take and you accept, putting your hand in his. You blush realizing how large his hands actually are. He leads you to the blanket and keeps your hand in his as he helps you sit. He moves to the other side of the blanket, taking two glasses and filling them with wine. He hands one to you and takes a deep breath before speaking again.

"Y/n, I love you. I have loved you since the first year when I saw you at the sorting ceremony. You had big dorky glasses and your face was bright as a tomato, I saw how nervous you were going up in front of everyone but I never understood why. When I saw you I thought you were the most beautiful person I had ever seen, I couldn't understand how someone could be nervous when they had absolutely nothing to hide from. It wasn't just me, I saw how other people looked at you as well. It isn't just your looks that drew me in though, it was that quiet giggle I heard behind me when I accidentally hit Marcus Flint with a dung bomb. It was the most amazing sound I had ever heard in my entire life. That sound is the single reason I continued to prank people. I wanted to hear you laugh any chance I got and eventually, I started enjoying pranking and making jokes because it was fun. I am telling you this because I want you to understand how much you have turned my life upside down Y/n L/n. I understand if you don't feel the same but I couldn't keep this from you any longer. I meant everything I wrote in those letters, I didn't know how to tell you how I felt without ruining our friendship. I wasn't even going to send the letters when I began writing them, I wrote letters for you for over a year before I sent the first one. I saved them in hopes that one day I could send them and finally express how I felt to you. I know this is a lot to process and I am sorry if this is too much for you and if you need time I fully understand." Fred expresses holding your hand and looking into your eyes taking in every expression on your face. At the end, he releases a long breath, and you can see his shoulders relax. You now understand how much this had affected him and how long he has been hiding.

He stares at you waiting for you to speak or even make a sound, when suddenly you smash your lips against his. His eyes widen in surprise and he sinks into the kiss. He grips the back of your head, not roughly but hard enough to keep you in the same position. You grip at his shirt, as your mouths continue to move perfectly in sync. When both of you finally pull away your chest heaves, trying to steady your breathing.

"I feel the same way Fred, you don't even understand how glad I am that it is you" You smile, face flushed at the realization of the bold move you just pulled.

"Well, I'd bloody hope so, or do you just like kissing your friends?" You both laugh, the sound airy and light.

You sit and talk for hours under the starlight. Both sharing smiles and laughs, enjoying each other's company. Fred gives you his jacket when he sees you shiver and you take in the warmth, noticing he put on a new cologne you've never smelt before. You sit, eat, talk, and cuddle until you realize how late it is.

"Oh shit" You shriek, sitting up quickly. "What time is it?" You look back at Fred, still lying on the blanket. His eyes go wide as he checks his watch.

You and Fred clean up the blanket and food and begin walking to the door.

You feel your wrist being tugged and you look behind you.

"Hold on, I know a different way." He grins widely and drags you to the other side of the tower, he pulls out his wand. He gestures his wand at you, telling you to bring yours out.

"Repeat after me, revelio" He asks

Fred holds up three fingers, pointing his wand at the floor and you follow suit. When the last finger goes down you speak in unison.

"Revelio"

Suddenly the floor opens up and a staircase unfolds before your eyes. You stand there shocked, wondering how Fred discovered this mystery passage.

"Lumos" Fred mumbles and light shoots out of his wand, allowing you to see down the stairs. He gestures for you to take his hand and you hesitantly accept.

"Trust me, it's just a passage. I would never put you in harm's way." Fred assures you, turning forward after you nod your head and he begins descending the steps.

You continue hand in hand down the stairs, and when you reach the bottom you realize you are right next to the Gryffindor common room.

"How in the world did you figure this out?" You question astonished. You think back to all of the pranks he has pulled without getting caught and into trouble, it makes you wonder how many of these secret passages he has figured out.

"A good magician never reveals his secrets" Fred smirks and whispers the password to the very tired and annoyed fat lady.

He walks you to your dorm stairs and you both blush and giggle staring at each other.

"I guess this is goodnight" Fred whispers, looking at you as if you hold the sun in your eyes.

"I guess it is" You reply, both of you slowly leaning in.

"Goodnight"

"Goodnight"

You close the space between you and share a sweet and loving kiss.

You pull away first but Fred chases your lips making you giggle into another peck.

"Okay, okay we really need to get to bed" You laugh lightly, trying to be quiet and not make yourselves known to any nosy students.

"You really want to go" He pouts, even though he is joking you can see the hesitation in his eyes. Not wanting this moment to end.

"I'll see you tomorrow" You smile, enjoying watching him yearn for your affection.

"Promise?"

"I promise"

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Crossed Lines || George Weasley

Title: Crossed Lines Pairing: Single Dad!George x Nanny!Reader Summary: Crossing the line between professional and personal is always a risk, and this time it’s one George is willing to take.  A/N: I love dad!george and you can pry him from my cold dead hands. Feedback is always appreciated! <3

-

George Weasley never imagined his life would turn out this way. 

As a man in his mid-20s, he was living the life most would be envious of. For starters he and his brother started their own company as teenagers, and now several years later they are still their own bosses. Not to mention he’s a single man, living in central London, free to do whatever and whoever he pleases. He gets to do what he loves, makes his own decisions and he makes enough money to do whatever he wants while also saving enough for his future. 

That is until one fateful Tuesday morning, when he answered the door and found a car seat sitting on the welcome mat with the smallest baby girl he’d ever seen tucked inside. Whoever left her there was long gone, and when George brought her inside the note that fluttered to the floor revealed him as the father, with whoever wrote it stating that they weren’t cut out to be a Mother and the baby was George’s problem now. 

Two weeks and one paternity test later, George took full custody of his daughter Remi.

Despite having no real hands-on experience with babies, and having no intentions of having children for at least a decade, the second George held that little girl he knew in his heart that he could never give her up. So in the blink of an eye George Weasley went from a single man to a single dad.

Thankfully his family is the best, and rallied around him as he settled into fatherhood. Fred took on more responsibility at work so George could have a more flexible schedule, and his Mum moved in to help him as he learned how to be a Dad. And of course his siblings were always more than eager to babysit when George needed a break. 

But now that Remi is six months old, four months after she was dropped off at the front of his brownstone, it’s time for his life to resume. He misses work, and while he loves having his Mum around, he’s desperately in need of having his privacy back. Not to mention all the parenting books he’s consumed over the last few months all talk about how important it is for babies to have a routine, and it’s hard getting into one when George’s work schedule is in the air and Remi never knows if it’ll be her grandmother or her dad getting her up from her nap. 

When discussing what childcare arrangements George wanted now that he’d be back at work full time and Molly would be back up North, both Fred and his Mother vetoed his idea to just have Remi at work with him all day. Day care seemed like the obvious solution, but even after touring the best rated facility in London George was hesitant. He hated the idea of dropping his daughter off at some strange building everyday, and wasn’t too keen on the idea of Remi not being the only child someone was looking after. 

So George tasked his Mum with finding him the best Nanny in all of London. 

While more expensive than daycare, George liked the idea that Remi would be at home where she’s most comfortable and she’d have her caretakers undivided attention. Not to mention he liked how easy it would be to stop by and get some time with his baby whenever he could sneak away from work.

He left all of the hiring decisions up to Molly, citing his inexperience with raising a child. Who better to pick the person that will be caring for his child than the woman who raised seven of her own kids? 

And George didn’t regret trusting his mother for a second. 

Well until he answers the door on his Nanny’s first day, only to find the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen standing on his doorstep. 

She smiles up at him brightly, and George curses himself for not at least asking his Mum for a picture of his Nanny. All she had told him was that her name is Y/N and she has a degree in early childhood development. Truthfully, when George thought about having a Nanny, he always pictured an older woman who was looking for work now that her children have grown and flown the nest. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine someone like Y/N standing on his doorstep. 

“Hi,” she greets awkwardly when George doesn’t say anything. “You must be George, I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Snapping out of his daydreams, George gives her a nod. “Nice to meet you as well. Come on in.”

He steps aside so Y/N can walk through the door, and he has to suppress a shiver when their bodies brush. She can’t be much younger than him, and the subtle scent of strawberries wafting from her skin is driving him crazy. George shuts the door a little too hard, before motioning for her to follow him into the living room. 

Remi is sitting on the floor supported by some kind of special pillow Fleur bought for him, drool running down her chin as she chews on a toy. George watches as Y/N gets a look at his daughter for the first time, and the smile that takes over her face is breathtaking. 

“Oh my goodness,” Y/N coos as she approaches, crouching down in front of Remi. “And you must be Miss Remi,” she greets, her voice soft and cheery as she reaches out to stroke the baby’s cheek. “Your Granny has told me so much about you, Gorgeous. I’m Y/N and I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

George is a puddle as he watches this woman interact with his child. That little girl is his entire world, and watching people fall in love with her always fills him with pride. Remi giggles as Y/N strokes her tummy and a grin breaks out over George’s face. 

“She likes you.”

“I like her too.”

Remi squeals with joy as George scoops her up in his arms and he presses a kiss to her wet cheek before he places her on his hip. “Let me show you around and get everything sorted before I have to head off to work.”

Y/N follows behind George as he gives a quick tour, taking note of where everything is. Which is harder than it should be, since she’s distracted by the adorable baby and the gorgeous man that’s holding her. Molly had shown Y/N dozens of pictures of Remi during the interview process and talked about her nonstop, but she had been pretty silent when it came to her son. All she said was that George was young and had become a father unexpectedly when Remi’s mother abandoned the two month old on his porch. 

Her heart had broken for the little girl and her father, which made saying yes to Molly’s job offer a piece of cake. And as George points out all of his daughter’s favorite things Y/N is sure in her decision to take this job. It’s clear that George doesn’t know a lot about being a parent, but it’s even more clear that he’s trying his best and he loves his daughter with every fiber of his being. 

Y/N would be lying if she didn’t admit how attractive that is. Seeing this man who so clearly used to live the bachelor life bend over backwards to give his daughter the life she deserves is a major turn on. It doesn’t hurt that he’s extremely good looking either. 

But it’s really in her best interest to push those kinds of thoughts away considering the fact that George is her boss and he’s trusting her to care for his child. Remi is the only Weasley Y/N will allow herself to fall in love with. 

“So as far as a routine goes, Remi doesn’t really have one,” George admits sheepishly as they make their way back into the living room. “When she gets cranky we put her down for a nap and when she cries we feed her. We tried, but with my work schedule always changing and my Mum and I switching on and off, nothing we tried ever really stuck.”

”That’s what I’m here for,” Y/N reassures him with a smile. “It’ll probably take a few days for Remi to settle in from the change and get used to me, but once things settle we’ll start putting a routine in. And I’ll write everything down so you can follow it on the weekends as well.”

“Ugh, you’re amazing,” George gushes, and he doesn’t miss the way Y/N’s cheeks flush. “Okay well I guess that’s everything. I should head out now.” He’s thankful that Y/N turns away, pretending to look at her phone so he can have a private moment with his daughter. 

“I love you Rem-Dog,” George murmurs as he presses his lips to the top of his daughter’s head. “I gotta go to work now, but I’m gonna miss you so much. And you’re gonna have so much fun with Y/N. Okay, baby?”

George kisses his daughter one last time, pressing his nose to the crown of her head and taking a deep inhale of her sweet baby scent before he pulls away and hands Remi off to Y/N. 

“Call if you need anything,” George says as he walks towards the door. “My cell and office number are on the fridge. I should be home by five but I’ll call and let you know if that changes.”

”Sounds good.” Y/N follows George out, picking up Remi’s hand and making her wave. “Say bye to Daddy, Remi. Say don’t worry about me, everything’s going to be okay.” Her voice has that same dreamy quality it did when she first greeted Remi, and it immediately puts George at ease.

Y/N stays on the porch while George climbs in his car, bouncing Remi as she makes the little girl wave. He keeps his eyes on them for as long as possible, sighing when they disappear out of view. 

-

“Well your first full week back is almost over,” Fred starts as he enters George’s office. “How does it feel?”

”Fucking exhausting,” George groans, flipping Fred off when he laughs. 

Truthfully he really has enjoyed being back in the office. Over the past few months he’s been pretty hands off with the business, only coming in for important meetings or for emergencies, and it’s nice to get back working on the actual fun parts of his job. But holy hell is George tired. 

After being at work all day George heads home, and after a quick pass off Y/N also heads out, putting George on Dad duty for the rest of the night. Which he totally loves after being away from Remi all day, but by the time he gets her fed, bathed and settled in for the night he’s absolutely exhausted. It doesn’t help that she’s started some kind of sleep regression since he went back to work, so he’s up a few times to put Remi back down. 

When discussing with his mom what he might want from a nanny, they had discussed whether the position should be a live in one. George had shut that down pretty quickly, adamant that he only wanted someone there when he couldn’t be and that he could handle everything else. But after only one week he’s already considering asking Y/N if she’d be willing to make that change. 

And if part of that is motivated by his craving to spend more time with his nanny it isn’t anyone’s business.

The only time he gets to spend with Y/N is the few minutes before he leaves for work when he hands Remi off, and then the few minutes in the evening before they do it again when he gets home. But seeing the way she lights up when she talks about his daughter has George craving her presence every moment of the day. 

It helps that Remi seems to be just as infatuated with Y/N as he is. When he got home from work last night, Y/N had gushed about how amazing Remi has been, and that she barely seemed to need an adjustment period. She explained that sometimes babies have difficulties getting used to their parents being away and having a stranger in the house, but from that very first day Remi took everything like a champ.

The photo George has on his phone of Remi fast asleep on Y/N’s chest from Monday afternoon is a testament to that. The little girl has formed a bond with her nanny right from the start, and George knows his daughter would be thrilled to have some more time with Y/N.

“And how’s the nanny? Still hot?” Fred asks as he plops down in a chair across from George’s desk.

”Ugh, fuck. I never should have told you that.”

”Don’t worry, dude. I’d never try and screw one of your employees,” Fred assures. “Especially one that you wanna fuck too.”

George throws a pen at Fred in an attempt to knock the stupid grin off of his face. “I don’t wanna fuck Y/N.”

”Oh right, you wanna kiss her and hold her and date her and make love to her,” Fred teases.

”You’re such a fucking prat.” George sighs, shuffling some papers on his desk. “Fuck this. It’s Friday and I’m tired and I wanna see my baby. I’m going home early.”

Fred stands up as George starts to collect his things. “Fine, go back home to your girls. I’ll see you later.”

He’s almost out the door when George registers what he’s said and he whips a pad of post it notes at his brother’s retreating back. “Fucking prick!” He shouts, trying to ignore the bright pink blush on his cheeks. 

-

George’s decision to ask Y/N to move in is solidified the second he comes through the door. 

Remi’s cries echo off the walls, and he barely has the door shut behind him before he’s barrelling down the hall towards his daughter. When he reaches the living room George stops in his tracks. Y/N is slowly swaying back and forth, quietly murmuring to Remi as she rubs her back soothingly. His daughter’s red face is pressed into her nanny’s neck and even from across the room George can see how wet her cheeks are. 

“Is she okay?” George asks as he approaches, his voice frantic. 

Y/N spins around so she’s facing him, an attempt at a grin crossing her face. “Teething,” is her simple reply, and George nods in understanding. 

He vaguely remembers when Victorie, his niece, started teething since Bill often came to hang out with Fred and George when he needed a break. Not that George can blame a baby, if he had something sharp cutting through his gums and had no ability to verbalize the pain and ask for help he’d be screaming his head off too. 

“Yeah, my Mum thought she might be close to cutting one in the front.” Y/N passes Remi to him when he holds his hands out, and he immediately cuddles her close to his chest. “It’s alright, love. Daddy’s here.”

Y/N can practically feel her heart melt as she watches George soothe his daughter, and she silently kicks herself when she realizes how attractive it is watching this big man hold a baby. Of course she’s read those books, the ones where the hot single dad and the nanny end up falling in love and becoming a family. But when she graduated from Uni and decided to go into private care over a day care or teaching she had promised herself she would always remain professional.

Except the moment George Weasley opened his front door that notion went right down the drain. 

Watching this man be a parent makes her ovaries ache, and in a futile attempt to squander any feelings she may have for George, Y/N has tried to keep their interactions to a minimum. She keeps their hand-offs as brief as possible, showing up in the morning with only a few minutes to spare and exiting so quickly in the evening that George barely has his shoes off before she’s out the door. 

The last thing she needs is to fall in love with the man who signs her paychecks. 

It doesn’t help that Remi is probably the best child she’s ever looked after, and considering she started babysitting at 10 that’s a huge compliment. After only a week she already has formed an attachment to the little girl, and it pains her everytime she has to hand her back at the end of the day. Which usually ends up pissing her off, because how could the woman that gave birth to such a beautiful baby just give that all away? 

Apart from today’s teething related meltdown Remi has been nothing but a ray of sunshine. She giggles at everything, and Y/N instantly fell in love with her gummy smile. She’s also learned that Remi is a baby that loves to cuddle, and she spends most of her afternoon laying on the couch, holding the infant close to her chest as she sleeps. 

Sometimes she feels thankful for that horrid woman who gave all of this up, because Y/N is the one who gets to bask in the glow of little Remi. But sometimes those thoughts lead her down the bath of daydreaming what it would be like to be Remi’s Mum, and by extension George’s wife, and she has to shut them down quickly. Lusting after a life she can’t have is not helpful. 

“I put some of her teethers in the freezer,” she explains as George starts to sway back and forth in his own attempt to soothe Remi. “The cold will help soothe and numb the pain, but if you have a hard time getting her to bed you can give her some children’s tylenol.”

Y/N can feel her heart breaking as Remi lets out another wail, hating the fact that she is about to leave when she’s still so upset. She steps closer to George, resting a hand on Remi’s back before she leans in to kiss her tear-stained cheek. 

“Bye, Rem-Dog. I’m going to miss you so much, but you have your dad here with you, yeah? And I know you’re in pain but go easy on him, okay? I can feel the anxiety rolling off him,” she pauses to look at George, giving him a teasing wink before she refocuses her attention on the baby. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“You got this, George,” Y/N reassures, giving his arm a squeeze. 

She turns to grab her things and head out when a hand closes around her wrist. 

“Wait, Y/N,” George calls, tugging so she turns to look at him. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about, before you go. I was wondering if you’d consider becoming a live-in nanny?” He rushes the question out, clearly nervous.  

“You want me to move in?” Y/N asks, her voice breathy. Immediately she clears her throat, shaking her head to bring her back to reality. This is George asking for more help with his baby, nothing more. 

“I do yeah,” George confirms with a nod. “I'm in way over my head, and I could really use the extra help in the evenings. I can tell how attached Remi is to you already, and I know she’d love to have you around more.” He leaves out the fact that he’d love to have her around more too, figuring that would be anything but helpful to hear. “I’d pay you more, obviously, and you’ll still have the weekends off. If you’re stuck in a lease I can pay to get you out of it, anything you need.”

“I’ll do it,” Y/N agrees without even taking a second to think about it. 

Is moving in with her hot boss and his incredible daughter probably a bad idea? Absolutely. But with the wide grin George is directing at her it’s easy for Y/N to push all of those negative thoughts to the back of her head. 

Besides, living here with George and Remi is a good thing, she’ll probably learn all of George’s annoying habits and whatever feelings are starting to develop will fade just as quickly as they started. 

At least Y/N hopes so.

-

Turns out her plan to use moving in with George as a way to diminish her feelings for him is a failure. An epic, fucking failure. 

Because as it turns out, George has no annoying habits. 

When he wakes up with Remi in the morning he’s quiet, taking extra care to whisper and tiptoe around as to not wake Y/N up before her alarm. When he makes his breakfast he always sets some aside for her as well, and there’s always a fresh pot of coffee waiting. He’s always sure to clean up after himself, to the point where sometimes Y/N forgets he even lives there. And despite the fact that she moved in to help him out more, George is always respectful of her time. When he gets home from work he takes over with Remi, giving Y/N some time for herself. When she takes over again, putting Remi to bed, George always cooks them dinner and they spend the rest of the evening talking and hanging out. 

Everyday it feels less and less like she’s his employee helping him care for his daughter and more like they’re a couple caring for their baby together. 

Which Y/N knows is a bad thing, and there’s constantly a voice in the back of her head telling her she needs to put up boundaries to keep both George and Remi at arms length. But the more time she spends around them the harder it is. She is quickly discovering that she isn’t just attracted to George’s looks and his dedication to being a father, but to his personality as well. He has a great sense of humor and such a kind heart, and Y/N finds herself missing his presence when he’s not around. 

So again, her plan has been an epic failure. 

It certainly doesn’t help that three weeks into her new live in position, Y/N rushes into the nursery one night to comfort a screaming Remi only to find her boss standing in the middle of the room shirtless as he rocks his daughter. 

“Oh,” Y/N gasps as she steps in the room, alerting George to her presence. When he spins to face her it takes all of her willpower to keep her eyes focused on his face and not his naked torso. “I just wanted to check and make sure everything is okay.”

George swallows thickly, reminding himself that he’s got his crying child in his arms and now is not the time to be ogling his nanny. But fuck is it hard. Because Y/N is standing there in the tiniest pair of sleep shorts and the thinnest tank top George has ever seen, her hair still mussed from sleep. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he mumbles once he finds his composure. “I was hoping to get her back to sleep before she woke you, I’m sorry.”

Remi’s been cutting two new teeth this week, and it’s safe to say sleep has not been something happening here in the Weasley house. He and Y/N have been taking shifts during the night, but he could tell that the lack of sleep was starting to wear her down, so when Remi woke him tonight his sole mission was to soothe her back to sleep as quickly as possible.

“And is there a reason why the two of you are half naked?” Y/N teases, and even in the dim light George can see the blush tinting her cheeks.

George shrugs a shoulder, giving her a grin. “I read in a book that skin to skin contact is supposed to help comfort babies.” Truthfully he hadn’t even considered the possibility of Y/N coming to help him, so George hadn’t given it a second thought when he stripped Remi down to her diaper before he pulled his own shirt off. All he wanted to do was soothe his child, but seeing the way Y/N is having a hard time from looking at his bare chest George is thankful for his actions for a totally different reason. 

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Y/N responds playfully, and she doesn’t miss the way George’s eyes scan her body. It sends a shiver down her spine, and if there wasn’t a crying baby in his arms she certainly would be throwing herself at him. 

Over the past few weeks Y/N has had an inkling that the feelings she has are not totally one sided, and the way George is looking at her now is confirmation. Clearly they are both trying to keep from crossing into unprofessional territory for Remi’s sake, but she’s not sure how much longer they’ll be able to resist this pull. 

“Go back to bed,” George instructs, his voice low. 

Y/N nods, her stomach fluttering at the command in his voice. Wanting him to be just as affected as she is, she approaches George, maintaining eye contact as she places one hand on his bare shoulder and the other on his abs. She smiles to herself as he tenses under her touch, leaning in to kiss Remi on the forehead. 

“Goodnight, baby girl.”

Just as quickly as she was there Y/N is retreating, looking back over her shoulder at George as she lingers in the doorway. 

“Sweet dreams, George.”

As soon as she’s gone George tosses his head back and groans. “God damnit,” he mumbles. He looks down at Remi, who’s cries have finally started to quiet. “You two girls will be the death of me I swear.”

-

It’s the first sunny day they’ve had in weeks, so when he woke up this fine Saturday morning he decided a picnic in the park was the best way to spend it. Even though it’s technically her day off, after he’d packed up the food, Remi George had stopped by Y/N’s room to see if she wanted to join them. Much to his delight, a yes was coming out of her mouth before he’d really even finished asking. 

And as he watches her push Remi in a swing, both of them giggling like crazy, George knows one thing for certain: he’s fallen for his nanny. It’s something he’s come to terms with in the two weeks it has been since that night in the nursery. After the way she touched and teased him George had an inkling that his feelings for Y/N were mutual, and their interactions these last few weeks have only confirmed it. 

For starters, touching has become a normal part of their relationship. Now when they pass Remi back and forth it’s normal for their hands to brush, lingering just a few seconds too long. When they sit on the couch together in the evenings Y/N takes the spot right next to him, as opposed to sitting on the opposite end like she had previously. It seems like both of them take every opportunity to be close to the other. 

Their conversations seem to have a flirty air to them now too, with both of them taking every opportunity to make the other blush. Not to mention the fact that Y/N is supposed to have the weekends off, and yet she somehow always ends up spending them with George and Remi. 

Sometimes George even forgets that Y/N is his employee, because when the three of them are together it just feels like they’re a family. Much to George’s pleasure it seems that way to others as well, because on at least four different occasions when the three of them have been out together people have complimented them on how adorable their daughter is, and Y/N has been mistaken as his wife at least a handful of times. Even strangers know that they’re meant to be together. 

And George is just waiting for the perfect moment to make it official. 

He grins as Y/N starts to head towards him, holding his arms out for the baby. 

“Dada, dada, dada!” Remi babbles as Y/N places her in his outstretched hands, and it makes his heart burst just like every other time she’s said it. 

“Hi baby,” George coos, settling Remi down on his lap. He shivers when Y/N takes a seat next to him on the blanket, their sides pressed together tightly from how close she chooses to be. “Did you have fun on the swings?”

“Yes I did,” Y/N answers for Remi, her voice morphing into the delicate tone she always uses when talking to the baby. “Y/N is so much fun, Daddy. So much more fun than you,” she teases.

They both let out a laugh when Remi reaches for Y/N, seemingly confirming her words. 

Instead of taking the baby Y/N leans into George’s side, holding out both her hands so Remi and grab on to her pointer fingers. George immediately wraps an arm around her waist, pressing Y/N even closer into his chest. It feels so natural that George has to resist his urge to lean in and kiss her on the forehead. 

Y/N smiles as Remi tries to shove her fingers in her mouth, keeping her attention focused on the baby so she doesn’t get lost in George’s eyes. She can feel his gaze on her, and it’s taking everything in her not to return it. 

She shouldn’t even be here right now. She’d had plans to get brunch with some of her Uni friends, but the second George stopped in the doorway of her room, a stupid smile on his face and his perfect baby in his arms as he invited her on a picnic she couldn’t say no. It’s definitely not normal, the amount of time she spends with George and Remi when she’s off the clock, but Y/N stopped caring about that weeks ago. In reality, George could never pay her another cent and she’d still be sitting right where she is. 

Which should terrify Y/N, but it doesn’t. 

“I can’t believe how big she’s getting,” George comments, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts. 

She hums in agreement. “It’s crazy how fast they grow at this age. I swear some days she grows overnight.”

“She looks so much like her mom.”

Y/N freezes, just watching George stroke his fingers over the dark, wispy hair that covers Remi’s head. He’s never talked about her before, and Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about the woman who makes up the other half of Remi’s DNA. 

“Maybe,” Y/N comments, grinning as Remi giggles. “But she has your eyes and your smile.” When all George does is hum in acknowledgement she continues. “What was she like? Remi’s mom?”

George shrugs as best he can with Y/N pressed against him. “I don’t know, really. Which sounds awful. We didn’t really spend too much time talking, if you get what I mean. I had totally forgotten about her until Remi showed up on my doorstep and the note from her fell out onto the ground.”

“I know I probably shouldn’t think ill of someone I don’t know,” Y/N says cautiously. “But it must take an awful person to just abandon their baby. Especially a baby like Remi. I mean, what if you weren’t home? Remi would have just been sitting out there on the porch for who knows how long.” She shudders in horror at the thought. “I just can’t ever imagine leaving her behind.”

The protective tone in her voice drives George crazy in the best way possible. He knows, obviously, that Y/N cares for his daughter, but hearing her be so angry at the woman who abandoned his daughter is something different. 

“I know what you mean. Being a dad was something I never even considered. But the second I held that baby for the first time I knew I could never give her up.” George pauses, considering his next words carefully. “Sometimes I think about what life would be like, if Remi’s mom had come to me when she found out she was pregnant and we had the opportunity to be a family. But I don’t think I would have liked it that much.”

“Oh?” The soft tone of George’s voice is sending goosebumps all over her body. “Why is that?”

“Because then I never would have needed a nanny, and Remi and I wouldn’t have met you.” 

His words take all of the air out of Y/N’s lungs, and her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest. Because she’s had those thoughts too, and as selfish as it is Y/N has always come to the same conclusion as George. Remi will never know her biological mother, and part of Y/N aches for that little girl. But a larger part of her is thankful that Remi will never know the pain of her mother’s abandonment, and she’s thankful that she gets to be the woman in her life. 

“Thanks for coming with us,” George murmurs after a few moments of silence, causing Y/N to finally look up at him. He has the dopiest grin on his face and it makes her heart race. 

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” Y/N responds, and the conviction in her voice lets George know she’s being honest with him. 

George reaches out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear, and he grins at the hitch in her breath. “Remi likes spending so much time with you.”

“Just Remi?” she asks teasingly, digging her teeth into her bottom lip. 

“No,” George murmurs honestly, reaching up to trace Y/N’s jaw with his thumb. “Not just Remi.”

-

Things finally come to a head a few days later, and they have to decide whether to end this arrangement all together or finally cross that line. 

-

“Y/N? Remi?”

Y/N grins as George’s voice echoes through the house as the front door clicks shut behind him. “Living room!” she calls back. 

As soon as George comes into view Remi starts babbling, her tiny fists reaching out towards George. “Dada, dada, dada!”

They’re sitting on the floor, with Y/N’s back against the sofa as Remi sits in her lap so they can read a book. But as George comes closer Y/N tosses the book aside, focusing on the man approaching her. Ever since the picnic in the park they’re subtle glances have become more obvious, and she doesn’t shy away from checking George out. 

Because damn that man knows how to wear a suit. 

“Hey Rem-Dog,” George greets, taking a seat on the floor across from Y/N. He opens his arms as Y/N lets Remi go, waiting for her to crawl closer before he swoops in. Picking Remi up under her armpits George hoists her in the air, blowing raspberries against her belly to make her laugh. 

Y/N waits for George to return the giggling baby to his lap before she acknowledges him. “Hi. How was work?”

George shrugs, giving her a smile. “It was okay. Couldn’t wait to get home though.”

The intensity in his gaze makes Y/N blush, and she clears her throat as she looks away. “Well it’s a good thing you’re here now,” she manages to squeak out once she’s calmed down. 

Things have felt so intense between them lately, but Y/N is waiting for George to make the first move. While she’s absolutely sure he feels the same way as she does, she doesn’t want to risk it by being the first one to make a move. Because on the off chance she goes for it and George rejects her, not only will Y/N be humiliated but she’ll lose Remi and that’s not something she’s willing to risk. 

“Yeah, good thing.” George leans down to kiss the top of Remi’s head. “How was she today? Any problems?”

Y/N chuckles at the notion of Remi being anything but a perfect angel. “Nope, she was perfect, as per usual. She tried broccoli for the first time and went down for her nap easily. And every time I’d show her a picture of you she’d reach for it shouting Dada.”

That makes George’s heart melt. “That’s my smart girl,” he coos. 

They both just watch for a minute as Remi squirms on George’s lap, one of her hands fisted in his dress pants while the other smacks his knee. No one says anything, but the silence between them isn’t awkward at all. 

George suddenly takes a deep breath and just as he’s about to open his mouth to say something Remi cuts him off. 

“Mama, mama!” she babbles for the first time, her little arms reaching out towards Y/N as she makes grabby hands. “Mama!”

Tears immediately spring to Y/N’s eyes, and she stands up, turning away from George so he can’t see how affected she is. “Oh. Um. I’ll be right back.”

George watches dumbfounded as Y/N disappears down the hall, presumably into his room. “Shit, shit shit,” he murmurs, standing up to follow after her. He places Remi in her playpen, kissing her quickly on the forehead. “Hang on, baby. Dada has to go check on Mama.”

Y/N’s door is closed when George reaches it, and he gives a tentative knock. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, George!” She calls, but George can hear her sniffling. 

“No, you’re not.” He pauses, grabbing the doorknob. “I’m coming in.”

She’s sitting on the edge of her bed, furiously wiping away tears and George immediately takes two steps into the room before falling to his knees in front of her. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she dismisses, shaking her head. “I don’t even know why I’m crying to be honest. It shouldn’t be a big deal, obviously I’m not Remi’s mom-”

“But you wanna be,” George murmurs, cutting her off. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, George,” Y/N apologizes. She wipes away the rest of the tears on her cheeks before she starts to push him away. “Let me just pack my stuff and I’ll be out of here, I’m sorry.”

George grabs Y/N’s wrists, keeping her hands pressed to his chest but keeping her from pushing him away. “What the hell do you have to be sorry for, Y/N?”

“I’m her nanny, George. I’m just supposed to be looking after her while you’re at work or whatever. I’m not supposed to be imagining a life where she’s my child and we’re a family. I crossed a line and you should fire me.”

“Fuck that,” George scoffs. “Look at me, Y/N.” He doesn’t continue until Y/N meets his gaze. “If anyone here crossed a line it was me. The second I saw you on my porch that morning I was fucked, I wanted you in every single way I could have you, Y/N. Hell, I asked you to move in under the guise that I needed more help with Remi when in reality I just wanted an excuse to be closer to you.”

George’s confession shocks her, and a humorless chuckle leaves her lips. “Really?”

“Really,” George confirms. “So if I should fire you for what you did, then you should quit for what I did. And if you really want to leave I will walk away right now. I’ll head back into the living room and sit with Remi while you pack and I’ll let you walk out the front door.”

“And if I don’t want to leave?” Y/N immediately asks. 

“Then I’m going to kiss you, and once I've conveyed to you how much you truly mean to me, we’ll go back out to the living room to spend time with our daughter. Because Y/N, you stopped being just the nanny weeks ago. And I think you know that.” George gives her a pointed look. “The choice is yours.”

Her choice comes in the form of her hands fisting in George’s shirt seconds before she pulls him into a kiss. George’s arms immediately wrap around her waist, and he pulls Y/N off of the bed and into his lap, needing to get her as close as possible. 

“Dada! Mama!”

Remi’s shout breaks their kiss, but George keeps their foreheads pressed together as they chuckle. “I guess we’ll have to wait until Remi goes to bed to cross other lines.”

Y/N shakes her head, playfully smacking George on the side of his head. He can be such an idiot. But at least he’s her idiot, and that’s all that really matters. 

[writersblockedx]

Favours for the Falling

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader Summary - Fred and Y/n couldn't be more different, yet the boy can't help but find himself falling for her. Warnings - None I don't think! Words - 1.8K

A/n - I’ve got so many things in my drafts that are just waiting to be proof read before I can post them, but here’s one I was able to get done today :)

Masterlist

No one understood it. And, certainly, no one could have predicted it. Y/n was the ever so sweet, the ever so quiet girl, the girl whom you'd struggle to notice in a crowd. Her head found itself constantly down, averting any attention she wished to dismiss. The idea of such was daunting, she liked the shadow, she liked how easily it was to blend into it: undisturbed and disregarded.

And then, all of a sudden, before the students of Hogwarts could bear witness, her walk in the shadow was accompanied by Fred Weasley. Fred Weasley the overt, tumultuous boy who had a space saved for Hogwart's most disruptive student - alongside his equally disruptive twin brother. He was loud and known, a player on the Quidditch team and a name that was infamous around the school.

Suddenly, Fred acted as the sun which casted out her comforting shadow. Suddenly, the hallways weren't so safe for her. Many eyes followed them across the corridors as they walked together, half of Y/n's heavy books secure in Fred's arms as they wandered to class, or the library, or back to the common room. It seemed that for two people whom differed to exponential degrees, they were inseparable.

It got even more confusing when they began getting spotted walking down said hallways, hands now interlocked, or someone would catch Fred pressing a kiss to her cheek before they left for class. Such whispers spread like wild fire through Hogwarts and, before they realised it, everyone was asking: how did it happen?

Truth was, it was almost accidental.

It was one late Thursday, Y/n was in the Libary, completely in a mind of her own when a red-headed boy wandered up to the table she was seated at. Her gaze drew to him, her eyes narrowed and she pulled her headphones from her ears as to greet him. "Sorry, we didn't realise anyone was in here..." It was then she scanned the room and realised it had emptied since she last looked up from her paper. "We're just setting up something." The boy, who she believed to be George, said as he gestured to behind him where Fred stood, conducting some prank she didn't understand.

Y/n was already packing her things away before George had finished speaking, "I didn't even realise-" She stopped herself and snapped her head back to the boy. "What time is it?"

George leaned on the balls of his feet as he hummed and checked his wristwatch, "Just past eleven."

"Shit." The girl muttered, subconsciously beginning to move that bit quicker to gather her items.

George chuckled at her sudden panic and wondered aloud, "You often come to the Libary at this time?"

Y/n settled in a smile as she flung her bag over her shoulder, "Only when I've got a Charms exam tomorrow." She informed, picking her lingering books from the table.

It was then that Fred's head dipped from around a bookcase, wandering towards his brother and the girl he had yet to know. "Exam?" He reiterated as his gaze scanned Y/n. "Wait you're in my charms, right?" Instant anxiety spread over his expression and once more, just to check, to be utterly certain, he asked, "Charms exam...tomorrow?"

The girl held in her laugh, but she wasn't all that surprised. She had her eyes open enough to know that Fred Weasley wasn't the most attentive during lessons. "Flitwick hasn't shut up about it all week." She reminded him, watching as ever so slowly, his excitement over the prank he and his brother were about to conjure fell and, in it's place, stress took over. Y/n flicked open one of her books and pulled out a couple of pages of notes, offering them to the red-head, "Here. It's not everything the test we'll cover, but it's the basics."

Fred hadn't expected such kindness, especially from a girl he barely knew. But he smiled and accepted it gratefully, "Thanks. Thanks a lot."

She glanced to George, nodding her head before she made her move. "I'll see you tomorrow." She said to Fred before turning her back and continuing to the exit.

Fred watched until she disappeared. His gaze glanced to the papers she had given him, filled with handwriting much neater than his own, and words he was sure he needed to learn. From the side of him, George shoved his shoulder and commented, "Idiot."

That night, not only had Fred and George set up their mischievous prank, but Fred had spent most of it revising from the materials Y/n had given him. And, surprisingly enough, a week later, the tests were handed back out and he'd passed. Well, only just, but a pass was a pass and he only had one person to thank.

As the bell rung for the ending of that charms lesson, he made sure to catch Y/n before she slipped into her next one. "Y/n!" He called from down the crowded hallways. Luckily, with his loud voice and his tall posture, Fred Weasley wasn't hard to miss. "Y/n!"

The girl stopped in her tracks, brows furrowed with her books knitted to her chest. She turned and found that the Weasley boy was rushing towards her, a great big grin spread over his lips. Before she knew it, Fred had scooped her feet right off the floor and was spinning her around in his glee, repeating, "Thank you, thank you." Several times before placing her feet back to the floor once again.

A smile emerged at her own lips - certainly not as wide as Fred's, but it was noticeable. "Good grade?" She questioned.

He nodded, "Passing grade!" the boy beamed before rummaging through his bags and pulling out the papers she had lent him that day, "Wouldn't have been able to do it without this- without you."

She shrugged as the two started to wander down the hallway together; side by side. "Don't mention it."

"Don't mention it?" He reiterated as if her words were a mockery. "Y/n, those pieces of paper may have just saved me from McGonagall's wrath. Have you ever been on the receiving end of her anger?" Y/n shook her head as she listened to him go on. "Trust me, you don't want to be."

"You know, if I were you, I might start noting down when my exams are." She then suggested with a cheeky glint in her eyes that Fred couldn't ignore.

"We'll see." He definitely wasn't going to start doing that, but, for her, he lied. "I should do something for you, to repay you." He proposed.

Instantly, Y/n was shaking her head and declined before he even offered anything. "No, no, that's alright. I barely did anything."

To which, Fred caught her gaze and suddenly, it seemed more serious. "You've got no idea what you've just saved me from." He told her and she didn't have the words to respond. "Just let me think about it and I'll come up with something." He flashed his familiar grin, increasing his pace before Y/n had a chance to decline again.

Fred took the week to think on it. In fact, the boy soon started agonizing over it. He knew he had to repay the girl in some way - he wanted to, truly. But he was completely stuck. Every idea that passed through his mind, even the ones he had voiced to George, didn't seem to ever be good enough.

There came one night when the riddle was keeping him up. He'd just suggested to his brother getting the girl something sweet but he'd ruled that out only moments later. The other Weasley twin sat up and glanced over at his brother, "Why do you care so much about this-" He stopped himself and decided to rephrase the question:

"Why do you care so much about her?"

Fred halted and suddenly, that question dawned on him. In that moment, he shrugged in response to George's question. "I don't know. I just- She was kind and- I don't know."

George chuckled from his bed, "And she's pretty?" He raised his brow in a devilish way, prompting Fred's eyes to roll.

"I owe her." He finally decided on.

Truth was, Fred had no idea why he was so tangled by such a simple thing. He was returning a favour. He'd had to do it a million times before with the things he and George needed for their various tricks and pranks. But, for some reason, because it was her, it had him stumped. And maybe George was right, maybe Fred had taken note of her pretty eyes, or her pretty hair or-

The boy was falling and he had only just come to realise it.

He was lucky in that, by the end of the week, he'd sufficiently found what he was going to give Y/n. And, as the last bell for the week was sounded, he waited by her common room until she showed.

"What are you doing here?" Came Y/n's soft tone as she wandered towards the enterance.

Fred turned, his lips smothered by a grin, "Hey, this is me repaying you." He raised his hand and the book that was grasped between them.

Y/n took a few steps closer as to take the book from him. Her fingers brushed the front cover and it's title, shaking her head in disbelief before glancing back up at Fred. "I hate to say this, but I may already have read and own a copy myself." She had a sheepish glint in her eyes as she stared at the boy, "But thank you."

"Shit, sorry, I should have asked." Fred backtracked.

The girl gently pushed his arm in a playful manner, "No, you shouldn't have gone out of your way to get me anything." She told him, but doubted that would have ever stopped him from doing such. "I'm sure anyone else would have done the same thing I did."

He shrugged, "I'm not so sure." He was genuine in that and it tugged at the girl's heartstrings. Fred paused and he found himself captured by Y/n's doe eyes. Before he knew it, words were slipping from his tongue which he couldn't stop. "Why don't we get a butter beer? On me!" He flashed a smile that Y/n couldn't dare to let down.

So her head nodded and she agreed, "If you feel so obliged."

Like that, they changed from their uniforms and wandered down to Hogsmeade. And it was the same next week, and the week after. Suddenly, Fred was sneaking into her dorm, sitting next to her during meal times and finding himself in too deep. But the same was for Y/n.

[desideriumwriter]

Sleep Tight

Summary: Fred’s too bothered to not do anything when he finds you sleeping on the cold floor 

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader (no pronouns used!)

WC: 1.2k

CWs: None!

A/N: I think I’m going through my Harry Potter phase AGAIN. So take this little fic I randomly thought of, there’s definitely gonna be more otw lol. Enjoy! <3

_______

Fred would often lose track of time when he practiced his Quidditch skills, especially when it was winter or summer break and he didn’t have much to do.

Today he joined in playing a few rounds with Ron, Harry, and George after dinner. You and Hermione came out and watched for a little bit, Hermione deciding to go back inside when she got bored, you went inside a little bit after her, when the cold air became too harsh on your skin.

Eventually, Harry, Ron, and George were too tired to play anymore and went inside, Fred stayed outside, continuing to practice his moves.

You were sitting on the couch, watching some old black and white film on the television. You would occasionally look out the window to see Fred on his broomstick, focused on how hard and far he could hit the ball, or how quickly he could dodge something. ———— It was midnight, you were trying to fight away the sleepiness pulling down your eyelids. You gave in when your head began to nod down.

You went upstairs and opened the door that led you into the twins room, George was already dead asleep on his bed, his body in a star position, laying on his stomach with his face smushed into his pillow, and his mouth wide open. Letting out snores here and there.

You grabbed the pillow and blanket you brought with you out of your bag, you set the pillow down and draped your blanket over yourself. You shivered when your arm touched the chilly wooden floor. You should’ve brought a better blanket and chose something warmer to sleep in rather than a t-shirt and shorts.

Yet, somehow you were able to fall asleep with George’s snoring and the cold that was causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. ———— Fred decided he was done for the night when he realized it was nearly 2AM.

He went inside as quietly as possible. He cringed when the door squeaked open and when the wood creaked under his feet going up the stairs.

He entered his shared bedroom and sighed when he saw you sleeping in the middle of the floor with that thin blanket. He knew how uncomfortable sleeping on the floor was from the amount of times where he was supposed to share a bed with George, but ended up being forced to sleep on the floor.

He crept past you, grabbing a pair of pajama pants and a loose shirt, sneaking into the bathroom to change. After he came out, setting down his clothes in the laundry basket, he looked at you on the floor again, feeling bad if he let you sleep there.

Guilt would eat him alive if he didn’t get you somewhere more comfortable. He crouched down next to you, sleeping on your side.

“y/n…y/n…” Fred whispered, shaking your shoulder gently. You groaned, still asleep.

“y/n!” He said a little bit louder, shaking you a bit harder. Once again, you groaned, annoyed, moving your shoulder away. At this point he was getting frustrated, he flipped you over and clapped his hands together loudly in front of your face. George’s snoring was interrupted, he grimaced in his sleep, changed his position, and began snoring again.

Finally your eyes began to flutter open and you raised yourself up a tiny bit, resting your elbows on the floor.

“What?” You asked wearily, wiping the small but still embarrassing amount of drool on your face.

“Get in the bed.” He nodded to his bed, you thought you heard him wrong.

“Huh?” You looked at him, brows furrowed in confusion.

“You can sleep in my bed tonight. You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” He assured you.

“What? No, I'm not gonna steal your bed from you, I’ll be okay.”

“And I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor with that tiny bloody blanket sweetheart. You go sleep in my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.” He fully sat down next to you, waiting for you to get up and switch spots.

“No! I was able to fall asleep here with no problem, I can do it again. I’m fine.” “Your body won’t be in the morning.” You knew he was right, there’s been other times where you’ve slept over at a friend's house and slept on the hard floor or carpet, and woke up with your torso, or some part of your body aching. Yet, you would ignore it.

“Fine.” You sighed. Fred grinned as you got up, knowing he won this argument as you began to walk tiredly to his bed and climbing in.

Fred took your spot on the floor, laying his head on your pillow and pulling the blanket you had over himself. He let out a small chuckle at how he was too tall for it, due to his feet sticking out at the end of the blanket.

That was soon interrupted by it being pulled off him. He sat up to see you facing towards him, your blanket in your hand.

“Nope, come on.” You dropped the blanket and patted the empty space next to you on the bed.

“What?” He sat up.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor either.” You raised your head at him.

“You’ll be crowded with me sharing the bed!”

“I don’t care about how much space I’ll get, you deserve to be comfortable. Just get in the damn bed.” You turned back on your other side, facing the wall. Fred let out an annoyed groan.

“If you insist, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He slammed himself into the bed, causing you to bounce with the mattress.

“Arsehole.” You elbowed him in the side, Fred chuckled and you tried not to giggle.

“Shhh, you can beat me up in the morning, go to bed.” He whispered.

“Goodnight, arsehole.” You muttered, trying to force back more giggles.

“Sleep tight, y/n.” 

Within a few minutes you were knocked out. You flipped over, facing Fred, you dragged yourself closer, wrapped your arms around him and moved your head close to his chest.

Okay, maybe you weren’t fully asleep, but Fred thought you were. You pulled yourself closer to him knowingly. You had a tiny smile on your face, you tried to fight it, forcing it away so Fred couldn’t see.

That’s when you actually fell asleep, listening to his heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his chest.

Fred lifted his head up slowly to try and get a better look at you, he moved a few pieces of hair off your relaxed face. He wrapped his arm around your back gently, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face and the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen laying on his chest while holding him.

_____________

Tell me what you thought about this! Criticism is greatly accepted!

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Dramione Drabble 31

DISCLAIMER: It’s come to my attention that Ron Bashing is very upsetting to some readers. So , please do note that this post uses the Ron Weasley tag because he is a significant character in this particular story, also this is his POV . HOWEVER, please mind that this also includes a Ron bashing tag. If you are offended by Ron bashing, don’t bother.

I had to write this one, the inspiration hit and I’ll be in LA all day tomorrow visiting my sister. So here we go! Also, I’m adding to the next chapter on ao3, so it will be a minute before I post it.

Ron had mixed feelings about working the night shift on the beat. Before they were ordered to have a partner with them at all times, he’d been able to pop into Hermione’s or even Parvati’s while on patrol. Some nights, he was able to visit both witches.

He wasn’t proud of what he had done to Hermione. Parvati had been aware, from the beginning, that he had no intention of leaving Hermione. She was his til the end. And he was hers.

The thing with Parvati wasn’t serious and she had been okay with that. It was just a way to get that little bit extra he wasn’t getting with Hermione. He had assumed that she was content, if not happy, with their love life. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings by telling her that he needed more.

But, what if she had been severely disappointed. Maybe that was why she never complimented him, never praised him, never rolled off of him in a state of pure bliss.

With Hermione, it was always straight to work. She’d have to make tea, or clean her kitchen, or catch up on paperwork.

What if she wasn’t satisfied and that was why she kept busy after? What if she was seeking that little extra bit that Ron couldn’t give her from someone else.

What if that someone was Malfoy? He seemed to sordid type to get off on hitting his women or choking them. Hermione was not that kind of girl. She never asked Ron for anything naughty.

But Ron watched her, wondering. She avoided eye contact with him whenever they passed by one another. Ron would fantasize about grabbing her hand, pulling her into an office. Anyone’s office, it didn’t matter. Whichever one was nearby. And he’d go down on her and make her cry and shout out his name. She’d thank him for being so good to her, for making her cum so hard. Ask him to take her back. You know, shit like that. Something fantastical. Something erotic.

Ron would stop at the end of the hall and watch her.

With Malfoy, she’d look right into his creepy pale eyes and smile. She’d look at his bruised face, the dried blood on his lip that never seemed to go away and her eyes would fucking light up.

Hermione would look right into his face and see something in or past all of those sneers and scowls. She was blind to the monster lurking within.

Even worse now, she resembles him. The scowls and the sneers have migrated and taken residence on her beautiful round features, her eyes just as cold and pale as Malfoys.

She was scary, now. Other Aurora avoided her gestate, shivered when they thought she wasn’t looking. Whispered about her behind her back.

And now her and Harry were both looking at Ron like he was the monster. Ron was only human, and humans were animals. Fucking was just a natural need. It delivered the endorphins that were desperately needed after the war, after losing his brother.

Everyone did it. Every being did it. The birds and the bees and all that shit. It’s just that when Ron got off, he needed to be told what a good, sweet boy he was. That he was a hero., a savior. Someone worthy.

But sometimes, once upon a time, Hermione would look at him like he was. He missed it. Fuck, he missed her. It’s a terrible thing. That, even though Ron had fucked up and he still had Parvati, he didn’t want to give up Hermione. He loved her body as much as any others, probably more. No man enjoyed accepting the idea that he would no longer have it to himself. Maybe never again.

And Ron certainly didn’t accept the fact that Malfoy might be the new proud owner of that particular one.

“Hey, Weasley.”

Oh, right. The other reason he hated these shifts. Not only could he not drop by Hermione’s, he was permanently stuck with Anthony Goldstein. He wasn’t a terrible bloke. But he was shifty, a bit off. His movements were jerky, timid. He looked like somebody who didn’t belong on the force. He looked like someone who was thrown into it, forced to become an Auror and had never accepted that fact.

Ron pinched his lips together, and pulled his eyes from the corner building where Hermione lived. Her windows were dark. She probably wasn’t home.

He nodded to Goldstein in acknowledgment.

“Isn’t this the apothecary where Hermione and Malfoy got into that altercation?”

Goldstein was staring into window of the shop. The lights were dim, as if to still keep the potions advertised on display in the front window. Or perhaps the witch who ran the place was still inside, cleaning up.

Ron stepped up beside him. The wizard flinched and Ron couldn’t help the roll of his eyes. “Yeah,” He sighed. “That’s the one.”

Goldstein looked up at and stared. Ron could feel his eyes assessing him. “You and Malfoy don’t get along, do you?”

Ron dug his hands into his pockets, thumbing the wand nestled inside and laughed. One short, derisive bark. “What makes you think that, Goldstein?” He frowned and shook his head, a little ashamed at the acidic tone of his voice. “Look, let’s just say that the day where every day of my life stops revolving around Malfoy, will be the best day of my life.”

Anthony was still staring at him. Ron was staring at the window, at the dim light of the back room, a shadow moving. Through his peripheral, Goldstein was nodding slowly. He might have been grinning, but that wouldn’t make any sense. Goldstein hated conflict, he was a bit of a coward

But then Goldstein moved for the door. “We should go in.”

Ron shook his head. “Nah, she’s closing up. Besides it wasn’t our crime scene.”

“I heard she hadsa love potion. It might help mend whatever went sour between you and Hermione.”

“No thanks, mate.” Ron chuckled nervously. “I’ve had one too many experiences with love potions.”

“But, this isn’t like Amortentia. This one helps to…alter the way you think.” Goldstein voice was less flinchy and more persuasive than he had ever heard him. It was unsettling.

“That’s Barmy.”

“The witch who brews it says it allows you to connect with your lover on some kind of mental or spiritual level.”

“I’m not slipping ‘Mione anything, Goldstein.”

“You wouldn’t have to.” He opened the door and said, as he stepped inside. “You take the potion. All you need is a strand of her hair to add to it.”

And then Goldstein was disappearing into the shop and into the dark shadows of the potion filled shelves. “What the — Goldstein!” Had the wizard lost his mind?

Stepping into the Apothecary sent a shudder down Ron’s spine. The hairs on his arms stood. Something was definitely off about this. But the witch didn’t seem to notice or care about the jingle of the bell on her door, and Goldstein was lost somewhere in the vast array of potions. Some of them glittered, some were glowing in the dark. Some were as dark as the sky outside.

None of them seemed ordinary. Most of them, Ron didn’t recognize.

But he crept along the shelving, the habit of staying quiet and undetected hard to break. He passed shelves labeled things like Elixirs for Life. Others with the words, Poisons to live by. But when Ron reached the shelf that was labeled, Love, Sex and other maladies, he knew he was in the middle of something shady.

Of course, none of that helped him to prepare for the figure that leapt out in front of him, or for the wand that was pointed directly at his temple before the voice whispered the incantation that would turn his brain into dough, softening into something that could be kneaded and molded into surrendering. Ron’s entire body locked up, his mind went quiet.

Nothing was the same. Nothing was known. His name, his desires, his job.

No, for Ron, everything had changed the second that voice had uttered the word to end it all, “Imperio.”

[enweasley]

Restricted Section ; Finn Weasley x Sallow!Reader

AN: HII! So I haven't seen this being done much (or even at all but I barely looked) where people would write fanfics of their own characters in Hogwarts Legacy, so I decided to do so! Quick introduction to the character:

This is Finn Weasley; He's in Gryffindor and has a very loyal but mischievous personality. He's also pansexual! He LOVES herbology but he loves solving mysteries and exploring secrets even more - even if it's super dangerous. However, he will go to any extent to keep others out of danger (ironically). Finn can be really harsh to people if someone hurts him or the people he cares about. He's not perfect, though, he has some flaws. He does have a short temper and can say pretty horrible things without meaning to. He can also be quite reckless and finds it hard to accept other people's love and care, leading him to forget to keep himself from getting hurt.

That's all for now, but I'll probably add more to his story as time goes by!

(Please excuse any grammar mistakes, I'm trilingual and grammar from 3 languages can mix me up a lot C:)

--

Summary: The new student needs your help sneaking into the restricted section for something 'very important'. However, he doesn't expect you to cover for him when you get caught.

Warnings: Swearing, small panic attack, gets a little heated at the end. Kinda cheesy but we love that :)

Reader's gender is never specified!

--

"Excuse me! Y/n Sallow, right?" Interrupted from your game of wizard's chess alone, you turn around to be met with a pretty tall red-head. You couldn't help but think about how gorgeous he is, but you swallow your excitement.

"Yeah, that's me. You're the new kid aren't you?" You disenchant your chess game and give him your full attention. "I watched your duel with Sebastian in the Clock Tower, you're really good!"

Finn seems to flush at your compliment. During his short time starting in 5th year here in Hogwarts he's gotten plenty compliments on how he's been able to learn and execute spells so quickly, but for some reason your compliment had a special affect on him.

He chuckles lightly. "Thank you, I'm just trying to catch up quickly." He couldn't seem to keep his eyes from wandering over your features. "It's Finn, by the way. Finn Weasley."

"Oh, another Weasley! Well it's lovely to meet you! Did you need anything?" You ask politely.

Finn almost forgot why he was talking to you in the first place, but managed to remember before already humiliating himself in front of you. "Right, yes. This may sound quite forward, but Sebastian told me you're really good at sneaking around. Is there a chance you can help me sneak into the restricted section of the library tonight? I can't say why, but it's very important."

You were a bit surprised at his request, but kind of prideful that you were the first person he was led to for it. You smiled widely. "Of course! I'm surprised my brother didn't take you himself. Meet me at the grand staircase at 9. Don't be late!"

"Wait- Don't you wanna know more about why I need to sneak in?" He asked perplexed.

"Nope. I'll take any opportunity for sneaking around. Either way, you don't seem the type to burn down the castle or anything. Plus, you said you can't say why you need to sneak in."

He mentally facepalmed himself. How could he forget he just said that? Maybe he just wanted to talk to you longer. "I'll see you at 9!" You smile at him and walk away.

You take a long breath after turning away from him. Holy shit he's cute.

-

You're both crouched at the railing of the stairs looking down onto the central hall at exactly 9pm, analysing the prefects walking around and guarding the doors of the library.

"Okay," you whisper. "First of all, we need to go invisible. Have you learnt the disillusionment spell?"

Finn looks at you like a lost puppy, his head slightly titled. You almost had to tell him how cute he looked, but held back.

You pull your wand out and whisp it over your head and body. The wand leaves a blue trail of light before all there was left was your aura.

You continue whispering to the lost boy in front of you. "This is the disillusionment spell. It doesn't turn you completely invisible but it's better than being completely exposed."

You point to his hand holding his wand. "May I?" He nods hesitantly.

You slowly hold his fist clenching onto his wand and do the same movement you did on yourself over him. Finn could barely focus, the feeling of your soft hand on his summoning an army of butterflies in his stomach. You couldn't help but feel the same tingle in your stomach too.

Clearing your throat, you speak. "That's the movement for the spell. Just think of it and do the movement."

He did as you said, and suddenly you were both just two ghosts staring at each other's remains.

Finn chuckles enthusiastically. "This is awesome!" He whisper yells.

You laugh at his excitement, wishing you could see his freckled face through the spell.

"Okay, let's go. Stick close to me." You begin to sneak down the stairs, through the hall, and quickly side past the prefect turned away from the library door. You can feel Finn following closely behind.

After you both get into a safer corner of the library away from Madam Agnes's sights, you remove the spell off you.

"Here's the plan," you start. "You go get the key from Madam Agnes's desk draw over there, I'll distract her."

Finn nods. As you start to turn away, Finn grabs your arm gently and looks at you with his adorable puppy eyes.

"What if you get caught?" He sounds worried. You can't tell why he'd be worried about you, though.

You give him a cheeky smile. "Me? Get caught? You should worry about yourself, Weasley." He chuckles, shooing away the blush creeping into his cheeks after hearing you call him by his surname. "C'mon, let's go."

As you throw a book across the room, Finn conceals himself and scurries to grab the key. You quickly do the same and meet him at the entrance of the restricted section.

Exposing yourselves from the spell, you watch him unlock the gate before you walk in.

"YES!" Finn cheers, surprising you both with a tight hug. There's a pause before he realises what he's doing and slowly pulls away, taking his warmth away with him. "Sorry... Got excited."

You laugh sweetly at him. "I don't mind." He continues walking down the stairs of the forbidden room, but not before shooting you a relieved smirk.

"Lumos." You cast, making the eery room brighter and less intimidating.

As you squeeze between abandoned bookshelves and over piles of junk, you reach a collapsed set of armour. "Repai-" Finn begins to cast before a loud screech interrupts him.

Almost out of thin air, Peeves flies through the wall in front of you. He almost knocks you down, but Finn's quick reflexes catch you before you hit the ground. You find yourself wrapped in his arms, yours tightly around his neck.

"Shit, are you okay?" Finn asks you breathlessly, his worried eyes glaring into yours.

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine-" But once again you were interrupted by the same squeaky, loud voice of the poltergeist.

"I'M TELLING, I'M TELLING," Peeves squeals mockingly before flying straight upwards towards the main floor of the library.

Your heart squeezes into itself. You've never been caught before, why now? Your uncle is going to kill you if he finds out you were sneaking around the castle, and in the restricted section of all places.

You didn't realise your breath was quickening until you felt arms lowering you onto the floor and rough but warm hands palming each side of your neck.

"Hey, hey. You're alright, sweetheart. Take a breath." You hear Finn's soft voice whisper in your ear. A little voice was in your head screaming How do you expect me to breathe when you're making my heart beat even faster??

You breathe deeply before letting out a small chuckle. "I'm okay. I'm fine. Just go get whatever you need to get. I need to deal with Peeves before he gets us both in trouble."

Finn looks at you as if asking you if you're sure. You just nod and sprint after Peeves, the last thing you hear is a distant "Repairo" before making it back to the library.

"PEEVES YOU STUPID POLTERGEIST." You try catching him, forgetting he's a literal ghost as your arms flail right through him.

"Y/n Sallow." You jump at the voice of Madam Agnes behind you. You slowly turn around while Peeves chuckles menacingly at your head hung low in shame. "And to think I'd get a break from the Sallow siblings, you come running along. Wait until your uncle hears about this."

"No. No no no-" You get interrupted by her. "That's enough. You're a bright student, you should know better than to go sneaking around the restricted section especially after curfew."

"But Madam Agnes-"

"And Peeves here tells me you were with someone else." Peeves twirls and rolls around mid-air, celebrating your punishment. "Please tell me you were forced to come here by someone's hand instead of it being your own choice."

There's a pause. You could never snitch on Finn like that. You only just met him but you know better than to put his record at risk on his first week of school here. This was your own choice anyway, you weren't forced. Finn helped you down there, so you're gonna help him.

"No. I came here all alone." You said in a low but stern voice.

Madam Agnes sighs at your lie, but she knew how stubborn you and your brother were, so she let it slide.

"Detention after classes tomorrow. You're going to sort the books to their respective places until they're all done. It doesn't matter if it takes you all night." Your shoulders slump. "Peeves, escort her to her common room, please."

With a sigh from you and an evil chuckle from the poltergeist, you begin your walk to your common room. At least Finn's in the clear now.

Little did you know, Finn saw the whole thing from behind one of the shelves. He couldn't help but let a grateful smile reach his lips.

--

The next day, Finn runs to the library to find you after his classes. It's already dark out by the time he finishes his extra tasks and from talking to Professor Fig. He doesn't know why he's in such a hurry, but he won't let his confidence escape him just yet.

Once he's in, he find the library to be completely empty, not even Madam Agnes in sight. He hears distant curses and shuffling coming from the second floor and he can only assume the source being your complaining.

As he follows the sounds of frustrated mumbles, he finally finds you at the end of the second floor in a dark corner holding a bunch of books to shelf up. He smiles at the sight of you awkwardly balancing everything in your one hand and walks over to you, taking a pile of books from you.

"Need help there?" He looks at you with a teasing smirk.

You look at him with a grumpy face. "Oh haha, Weasley. I can handle this on my own, thank you very much." You snatch back the books he took from you, instant regret flooding your features as you immediately struggle to balance them.

Finn immediately takes them back from you and effortlessly holds them over his head, extending his arm upwards far from your reach.

"Hey- Hand those back, Weasley." You try hopping to reach the books he so graciously stole from you.

He chuckles at your efforts while you claw up his chest and shoulders, trying to tug down his arm. After a harsh tug, Finn loses balance of the books he's holding and he tries catching them but ends up stumbling forwards.

The books fall to the side as Finn catches himself on the bookshelf, trapping you between it and himself.

You lock eyes with him, your hands clutched tightly onto the thin material of his shirt over his chest. You're both breathing heavily, chests almost touching with every breath.

You can feel Finn hesitate as his hands slowly reach to cup the back of your neck, his thumb over your cheek. No matter how much you willed yourself to, your simply could not take your eyes off him.

"Thank you." He whispers. Your eyebrows furrow.

"For what?"

"For covering for me." His stare snapping between your eyes and lips. "I heard you in the library after we got caught."

"You mean after I caught got?" You tease.

Finn smirks at your remark, his hold on your neck squeezing for a second. "Whatever you say, sweetheart." The nickname melts into your ears and into the rushed beats of your heart.

"Hey, Finn?" The use of his first name makes the blood rush to his cheeks, his breath hitches.

"Yeah?"

"You dropped my books."

"Shut up." Finn lets out in a desperate breath before pulling you into him, his lips roughly but passionately meeting yours.

His other hand shifts from the side of your head to tangle into your hair, tugging it lightly. You let out a little whimper, but that's all it took for Finn to deepen the kiss even more, his tongue slightly grazing yours. Breaths were escaping through your noses, desperate for air but never desperate enough to separate from each other.

Your fingers weave through his long, soft ginger locks. Your other hand clutches desperately onto the collar of his shirt.

You both finally pull away from each other, your hands gliding down to rest on his chest.

"Fuck." Finn leans his forehead on yours, leaning in for another quick peck. His hazel eyes are glazed over, looking into yours like they hold the world. He slowly brushes a strand of your hair behind your hair, memorising your face as you memorise his.

"I was hoping you'd do that." You chuckle breathlessly. Finn laughs with you, his eyes holding nothing but love as they stare into yours. "Oh yeah?" You nod, your nose lightly touching his.

"Now help me with these books, Weasley. You're still responsible for my detention." You playfully push him away and start picking up the books he previously dropped.

"And I'd do it again as long as it ends like this every time." He smiles at you cheekily.

"Do it again and I'm telling Sebastian you used a love potion on me."

And with that he got to work helping you sort the books out.

[celestialseawitch-ff]

🌹

Harry awoke the moment Hermione left the bed. He braced himself up on one elbow and squinted across the room after the blurry form of his wife. Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the curtains. He could tell by the level of brightness that it was likely rather late in the morning – almost noon, probably. 

He heard the sound of retching and immediately got out of bed. He snagged his glasses off the bedside table and hurried to his wife’s side. She was bent over the toilet as she threw up. He knelt down beside her and pulled her long curls back.

He gently ran a hand along her back.

“Potions wore off,” he guessed.

Hermione groaned.

“I didn’t even think about it.”

“None of us did,” she responded weakly. There was a pause and then she began retching again.

“Is she okay?”

Harry looked up and was unsurprised to find his younger self wide awake. He was a little startled to see the genuine fear and horror on the boy’s face.

“It’s okay, just morning sickness.”

“Hermione’s never mentioned anything like this.”

“No,” Harry responded and wasn't sure if he should laugh at the boy's innocence or lament Hogwarts’ poor education, “it’s a pregnant witches thing.”

His answer did not seem to soothe young Harry’s anxiety and panic.

“Daddy?” Teddy yawned as he appeared next to young Harry. He rubbed his eyes. “Should I get Uncle Ron?”

“That’s a great idea, Ted. Down the hall. First door on your left.” Teddy hurried out of the bathroom. “Harry,” he said to his younger self who looked like he was working himself up into a proper panic, “can you go downstairs to the kitchen and get Hermione a cup of water?”

“I don’t know where that is?” his younger self stressed.

“That’s okay. Down the hall. Take the stairs. It’s on the first floor, just beyond the two big blue doors in the main hallway. Got it?”

His younger self nodded quickly before turning and hurrying out of the room.

“He's adorable,” Hermione groaned, head resting in her hand as she sat by the toilet.

Harry grinned. “He looked like he was going to cry. He's already very attached to you.”

“It's the maternal magic,” she sighed as she lifted her head.

He kissed her forehead. “Think you can get back in bed?”

She groaned. “Yes. Help me up.”

Harry magically cleansed her mouth and held her hair back as she washed her face. He was just tucking her under the covers of the bed when Teddy and Draco arrived.

“Ron went for groceries. I can get your potions.”

“Perfect.”

Harry conjured a parchment with a list of the potions Hermione needed. “Buy only the best.”

Draco scoffed. “Obviously.” He turned and headed back out as young Harry arrived.

“The glasses were dusty,” he informed his older self seriously. “I didn't see any soap, so I washed the cup under the water.” 

“Magical homes tend to use spells for soap,” Harry explained as he took the cup and passed it to Hermione. “Washing the dust off with water is probably good enough. Thanks, lad.”

“Are you okay?” the child asked Hermione.

“I am, sweetheart. Thank you for the water. Come sit. We can read a bit until Draco comes back with my potions.”

“You trust Malfoy to get your potions for you?” his younger self demanded.

Harry sighed. “He’s not a Malfoy anymore,” he reminded.

His younger self scowled.

Harry lifted the boy onto the bed without warning. He bounced on the bed with a huff of amusement. 

“Sit,” Harry ordered. “Let me see if I can’t find you a book to read.” Harry searched the bookshelves in the bedroom, humming as he went. “Ah ha. Seems some other Potters had similar habits to us.” He plucked a children's book of fables from the shelf and brought it over. “There you go, boys. You read to Hermione.”

“Where are you going?” his younger self demanded.

“To clean the kitchen so I can make breakfast when Ron returns. You want to help?” 

His younger self wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I'm good, thanks.”

Harry huffed a small laugh. “Thought not.”

[whinlatter]

think (harry/ginny) | a microfic

day 13 of @hinnymicrofic | prompt: think

He showers quick, tries to scrub the train off him. Snorts at the sight of Vernon’s large bottle of hair-thickening shampoo. Having stared at his uncle’s head all the way back from London, he reckons Vernon’s due a refund.

There's some lurid deodorant of Dudley's - hair gel, too, looks cheap and shit. He feels a stab of pity for whichever poor girl his cousin’s trying to scrub up for these days. Dudley trying to pull, he thinks with a laugh, Christ. But thoughts of pulling lead to thoughts of girls, which lead, inevitably, to thoughts of Ginny.

He shoves the hair gel back on the shelf. Adds Dudley pulling to the don’t think about it list he’d started making on the train, somewhere around the Cumbrian border, when Ron had offered him a Caramel Kappa, Ginny’s favourite, and he’d wanted to throw up all over the chess board.

The Dursleys had waited all of two seconds after he’d slammed the car boot shut before speeding off to dinner at some miserable gastropub off the M3. Suits him fine, wants to be alone. He stabs a fork through the plastic film of his ready-meal, makes sure to puncture the yellow reduced sticker Petunia's left on for his benefit, and watches the bright white of the mashed potato atop the shepherd’s pie whirling around in the microwave. 

You know, it’s made from real shepherd, he’d said to Ginny once. That’s such a dad joke, she’d said, and he’d said I wouldn’t know and she’d said Potter you get one dead dad joke a day and you already used today’s up at breakfast. Shepherd’s pie is on the don’t think about it list, then, he thinks, just before he burns his fingers sliding the ready meal onto a tray. Probably best add cottage pie, too, same idea. Maybe all savoury pies, play it safe.

He flops down on the sofa, feet up on the coffee table, eats straight from the hot plastic as he flicks through channels. The nine o'clock news is all budget this, Hong Kong that, Tim Henman out at Wimbledon. The nine o’clock news is not Dumbledore's dead, Snape murdered him, there’s a war on, Harry Potter's dropped out of school to go hunt bits of Voldemort's dismembered soul. 

Dropped out of school, he thinks. Scandalous, delinquent. What d'you reckon? he asks the Ginny in his head. Harry Potter, troubled dropout? Do anything for you? The Ginny in his head laughs. It’d be fun if she were here, he thinks, curled up next to him on this ugly sofa, taking the piss out of Petunia’s cushion covers and Dudley’s wrestling trophies. Imagines taking her up to his bedroom, pointing out the lamp Dobby whacked himself around the head with. But then the Ginny in his head looks at him and says I never really gave up on you and I knew this would happen in the end, and it all bursts, shatters into a hundred dusty pieces.

He chucks the rest of the meal in the bin, adds dropping out of school to the stupid list. Might as well add the budget, Hong Kong and Tim Henman, why not.

Turns off the telly, goes upstairs and lies on his bed, fully-clothed, staring up at the ceiling, because on the walk from the living room to his bedroom the list has expanded to include his trunk (train, Hogwarts, Ginny), his jumper (still smells a bit like her on the left arm, pathetic), and Hedwig (how does it feel knowing your owl prefers me, Potter?).

He stares out of the window for a while, eyes next door's new extension, which sort of works - ugly nothing suburbia - until he remembers the twins and Ron at the window in a flying Ford Anglia, zooming him off to the Burrow where a little red headed girl is blushing and sticking her elbow in the butter dish and god, this really is shit, isn't it, they weren't lying. She knew then, of course she did. He's never been good at thinking of nothing, has he, and he's thought about her as he falls asleep every day since about October, so what chance does he have now?

He's dreading the dreams the most, knows they'll be unbearable. Almost hopes he dreams of lockets and green light and dead headmasters. Can't be worse than bright brown eyes, freckles on a bottom lip (how do you even get freckles on your bottom lip, Gin? Don't be jealous of my freckles, Potter, just because your skin's so boring), the smell of her hair (what do you mean my hair smells? What is that supposed to mean? Why are you laughing?) and the sound of her laugh and her gasps and the sound of her breathing, soft, lying beside him under the cloak on the lakeshore. Looking down under the table at dinner, seeing her thigh next to his on the bench, hand on his knee, body drawn to his, magnets, magic.

When he wakes groggily the next day - crick in his neck, still in his jeans - his first thought is: he's overslept. He’s missed Ginny on her way down to breakfast, going to be late for Potions, fucked it.

But no, of course not. There’s no Ginny, no breakfast, no Potions. Might still have fucked it, though, who's to say. Don't, he tells himself, as he heads for the bathroom to scrub the night off him, just don't think about it.

now up on AO3 here | ask me anything

[honeydukesheroine]

Masterlist

Writings, author and fic recommendations

Multi-Chapter (WIP)

🏔️ The In-Betweens (6th Year)

Multiple POV (Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione). 115k+ words. Harry/Ginny. Ron/Hermione. Canon-compliant HBP missing moments, emotional landscaping, expansion on canon.

Short Fics

💫 One Shots

Missing Moments: The In-Betweens (6th Year): moments outside the main narrative Go With Grace: Ginny HBP/DH missing moment Holy Ground: Hinny, post-DH, Ginny's graduation Hush: Hinny, godfather!Harry

🍬 Microfics

Star: Hinny HBP missing moment Believe: Hinny HBP missing moment Secret: Ginny DH missing moment Stop: Ginny, motherhood Cheer: Potter family fluff Freeze: Potter family fluff

Inspirations and Fic Recs

🥂 Fic Authors & Artists That Inspire

FloreatCastullum GinFizz thegirlwhowrites642 GreenhouseThree Annerb blvnk

🌊 All Time Favorite Fics

Not From Others by FloreatCastullum Might Discuss the Match by FloreatCastullum Quidditch Is For Losers by GinFizz Ginny Weasley and the Half-Blood Prince by RRFang Orchards by Whinlatter Back to the Eclipse by thegirlwhowrites642 Twenty-Two Days by BrightlyBound

Thanks for reading! 🌤️

[the-fates]

Does anyone know any good Harry Potter OC Hufflepuff fics? Can be Marauders or Golden Era, just in the mood for some Hufflepuff stories (especially if angsty)

Also looking for good Lily Evans fics with her being a bad ass

[uncannycerulean]

Fic Claim: A knife all blade

I wrote this piece for the @hpffwritersguild "Comfort Zone" fest, and oh dear, it definitely DID get me out of my comfort zone!

A knife all blade (5.4k, Gen, M rated) mind the tags!

Still deep in thought, Ginny jumps when a shadow darkens the cave entrance. “Smells good,” Cas says. “Do you have to scare the living hell out of me?” Ginny replies. So much for apologising. But Cas grins, looking almost relaxed. “I got news,” she says and flops onto a pillow.

A different twist on what happened when Luna was captured... and who was trying to get her back, and a meditation on anger, grief and desperation, and what to do with the weapons in our minds.

Read it on Ao3

[hillnerd]

WAKING UP - CH 15

AO3   FFN      Beginning of story | Previous Chapter

chapter word count 13 114

Gigantic thank you to my beta @abradystrix. Check out her work as it's truly lovely writing!

previously in 'Waking Up'(honestly, I recommend re-reading the chapter before as lots of it ties to this chapter)

Ron briefly connects with Ginny and she tells him how worried she is for him before she leaves the Burrow- she had a confrontation with Harry the night before about Ron's safety that the couple are still reeling from.

Ron learns some spells to use in his Combat Readiness Exam. Harry and Ron go to the Ministry for their C.R.E. but are confronted by loads of reporters, including Rita Skeeter. Robbie rescues them with a side room to weigh their wands.

They get ready for their C.R.E. and Ramona is late and looking bedraggled.

It's time for the C.R.E.- it's a hostage situation, they're all wearing the same safety vests as before, and they split up to find the hostage.

Harry Ron Ramona Claudia and Neville take out a team of 3 Aurors- one of which was a rooftop 'sniper' type Auror Ron was able to overpower.

They meet with the other recruits and get the 'hostage dummy' in a flurry of action- Ron's definitely experiencing PTSD symptoms and his arm is doing poorly-

There are 3 'enemy' Aurors left- Robards (head of Aurors), Sealy-Pearce and Musaad. They are in a 'squid room' that deflects spells and dove into the earth.

Neville and Vyse help with his arm that's numb and acting up.

The recruits split up to find the squid, Ramona Claudia Ron and Harry go underground, while the rest are above.

Harry and Ron split off and hear a voice:

"Harry?" came a voice. They both turned to the sound of the feminine voice.

"Was that—?" asked Harry.

"Harry?"

That was Ginny's voice! What was Ginny doing here? Her voice was there, clear as day, but there was no sign of Ron's sister. It had come from a different smaller tunnel.

"Gin?" Harry called out, going down the tunnel a few paces.

"Harry… I don't think—" Ron began.

"Harry?" came Ginny's voice again.

They slowly crept down the tunnel, wand's light being eaten up by the darkness.

"Harry!" They swung their wands and there was Ginny, covered in blood, reaching towards them.

Chapter warnings: cannon level violence, descriptions of cannon dead characters, ptsd symptoms, cursing, hallucinations, nightmarish creepy imagery, spiders, mention of blood and having trouble breathing, implied sexual assault memories, choking and water going up sinuses, reference to dead parent, reference to severely disabled parent, broken bone, characters with limited control of emotions/selves, strong emotions

---------------------------------------

CHAPTER 15 - C.R.E. #4

Ron wrenched back from his blood-covered sister, feet submerging in sludgy water.

“You didn’t do enough!” Ginny accused, pointing a bloody finger.

At first Ron thought she was directing her words at himself, but he soon realised she only had her piercing gaze set on Harry.

“Everyone’s dead because of you. You killed Fred. You killed Lupin and Tonks. Dobby and Sirius and Cedric and—”

“Don’t listen, Harry,” said Ron. He tried to step in front of him, but his boot caught fast in the slurry at his feet.

“Bill and George and Dad and Ron and I all nearly died because of you! Everywhere you go, people die for you! You use us as human shields and everyone ends up dead! Ron’s the next one to die becau—”

“Riddikulus!” Ron shouted at his sister. With a crack, she was in clown makeup, complete with clown nose and hat. It wasn’t particularly funny, but at least she wasn’t terrifying anymore.

Harry was pale beside him, eyes wide.

“Nothing that thing said is true,” Ron immediately said. “Not one word of it. Ginny doesn’t think that!”

Harry mutely moved his head in a pale imitation of a nod.

“Fucking Boggarts…” muttered Ron,

pulling at his leg until it squelched with a loud ‘thhhwip’ and came free.

“Here, let’s move before it changes into a giant spider.”

There was a crack behind him. He began to point his wand when he heard the voice rasping, “Got you to scream good and loud for me, didn’t I?”

A claw of terror raked over him, rendering him unable to move, to utter a single word.

That voice brought back every strike, every sensation… It felt like an iron suit of armour had dropped onto his chest from a fourth story window.

He turned and there stood the hulking figure of Otho Crowthers lurching towards him. His brow was as sloped as the last time he’d seen him, his steps as heavy and menacing. It even had that rancid smell of his body and breath. Ron thought he might throw up as that same smell rolled over him. How could the Boggart know the smell of him?

“Riddikulus,” he gasped, waving his wand.

“Bet I can make you scream without a wand… Can’t I?”

“Riddikulus!”

He couldn’t make it funny. He couldn’t think of anything. This wasn’t funny. His mind raced, searching for a way to lighten the darkness that surrounded him, but all he found were the suffocating grip of shame and the gnawing bite of fear.

“Who’s—?” Harry began to ask.

“I like raw meat like you, ginger.”

“Ri-Riddikulus,” Ron croaked.

“You know what I want to do to you? I’m gonna tear—” Crowthers crooned.

“Riddikulus!” cried Harry, stepping in front of the Boggart. Crowthers changed into an oversized Gorilla with a kazoo.

A tsunami of shame overwhelmed him, battering him to and fro until he was a pulp of useless flesh. He couldn’t bear to look over and see Harry grimly studying him.

The things it had said…

Every particle of him wished the cave would collapse on him. He didn’t want to see or be seen. How many times did he have to have his soul ripped out and put on display for his friend?

“Ron, who was that?”

“No one,” his mouth said before his brain could even begin to create an explanation. “Let’s… Let’s…”

“Ron…” He could hear the pleading in Harry’s voice to tell him what was going on; to let him help in some way. He couldn’t give that to him, as much as he wanted to spare his friend an iota of hurt, he just couldn’t.

“Please can we move away from the Boggart? Please?”

He was already pathetic, why not add begging to the mix?

“We can go back to the other tunnel,” agreed Harry, tone horribly gentle. They both ignored the Boggart as it latched onto Harry and turned into a bloody Ron on the ground. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Ron felt a hand on his back and jerked away.

Harry took a deep gulp of air, as if he was about to dive underwater. He tended to do that before an unpleasant conversation topic.

“So,” Harry began, but before he could say more the earth beneath their feet shook, and a great rumble echoed through the tunnels.

“The Squid,” Ron exclaimed, running towards the noise.

Harry hesitated, but quickly caught up with him.

Their wrists heated as their watches showed the message: ‘Found Squid! We’re at a manhole near Bethune! -Claudia’

They didn’t need a map; the crashing of the Squid was practically upon them.

As they rounded the corner, chaos unfolded and the air cracked with magic.

Ramona and Claudia were in the corner throwing spells, taking cover behind fallen stones and fragments of ancient columns.

Through the small red window, the Squid room churned out a destructive onslaught of hexes and blasts, each more destructive than the next.

Harry and Ron joined the fray, launching a flurry of spells, but nothing seems to hurt the Squid.

The Squid's tentacle-like limbs effortlessly blocked each spell, nullifying the magic as if it were nothing more than a puff of air.

“Can’t get anything through!” Ron panted.

Harry’s only response was to yell his spells louder.

One of Harry’s spells deflected off a metallic arm and struck the red window, causing a blink-and-you-miss-it crack to form.

“The window!” Ron yelled at him.

"Aim at the window!" Harry shouted to the team. Claudia and Ramona promptly responded, and the tunnel was alight with destructive spells.

"Reducto!" bellowed Harry. With his final hit, the crack spread across the window.

"We're doing it! It could break!" exclaimed Claudia.

The Squid's massive arms thrashed, striking the tunnel's side with a bone-shaking force and a pillar fell, pinning an arm of the Squid.

The Squid struggled to move, pulling at its trapped arm like a dog tugging at a rope. With a final lurch, it shook itself loose.

A horrifying crunch followed as the pillar was thrown across the alcove, taking out masonry as easily as one would brush away cobwebs.

“GET BACK!” yelled Harry.

Time slowed as pillars of brick crumbled, one brick at a time popping into dust, shaking the stone floor beneath their feet.

The tunnel walls groaned like an old whale, then gave way to the impending collapse.

The ground was gone from beneath Ron.

For a moment he was weightless and his stomach swooped. There was nothing to grab or do, but hang in the air and feel everything falling.

The impact knocked the wind out of him as he landed on unforgiving rocky terrain. Stones and masonry fell around him. He couldn’t breathe, but managed to pull his legs and arms in to protect himself.

The sound of everything collapsing was a deafening roar. Every pitch of sound both high and low was hit at once, surrounding him as he was shaken and hit.

The ground lurched again and he was thrown like a limp doll into darkness.

He struggled through his nose to take in air. He’d had the breath knocked out of him before, and knew what to do, but surrounded by dust and detritus it was hard to feel like his inhales were doing anything.

The cacophony of collapse finally eased.

Amid the darkness, he heard the moans of his companions.

He squinted up and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He found himself trapped between sections of the collapsed floor and a slanted piece of ceiling. He was not able to stand fully upright in the tight space and his arms began to ache.

He was filthy, and from head to waist he was sprinkled in a thin film of rust-coloured dust he tried to wipe off. Each brush against the orange dust only moved it around.

"Everyone okay?" called Claudia from somewhere above him.

"We're down here! We're alright!" came Harry's voice. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the tunnel we were in, but I don’t see anyone!” cried Claudia.

"Harry?" Ron coughed, swatting away the dust.

"Here!" A wand illuminated, and an orange hand waved from a corner of his alcove. There was a small opening; enough for an arm to fit through, but not enough for a whole body, even one as wiry as Harry's.

Ron peered into the hole.

Harry and Ramona were deep within the crevice, the wall and collapsed floor of the tunnel blocking their escape. Covered head to toe in a much thicker coating of orange dust, they looked like a duo of mutant Crookshankses.

Ron could feel a pressure building around him and the hairs on his neck began to rise. Something was wrong.

"Can you Apparate out?" Claudia called from up above. "I'm afraid to move any of this rubble without help. I don’t want to cause another collapse!"

Ron attempted to Apparate, but the anti-Apparition Ward was still in place. "I can’t Apparate. We'll have to wait until everyone regroups."

"Got you to scream good and loud for me."

Ron whipped his head around, certain the sound had originated from behind, but there was no Boggart in sight, just stone and dust motes still settling.

"Harry, do you see the Boggart?" he asked.

"No," Harry quietly replied, before adding, “but I can hear Ginny again.”

"You hear Ginny?" Ron questioned. “Can you hear anyone else?”

“No… Why? What do you hear?”

“Mum?” called Ramona.

“Ramona, what do you hear?” asked Harry.

“It’s… It’s my Mum… She’s begging for help… You said it was a Boggart? Where is it?”

Ron couldn’t hear Ginny or Ramona’s Mum.

A bloodcurdling scream rent the air. Hermione’s.

“Ron! Please! Help!”

He stood and yelled into the dark, “Riddikulus!”

But there was nothing to see, nothing to transform into something humorous.

The pressure from before was pounding on Ron now. He could feel the magic of the place swarming them. They were surrounded by it.

“I reinforced the walls so you won’t get crushed,” called Claudia. “But I’m nervous to move anything on my own up here. Hold tight- we’ll have the others help soon!”

“WHERE IS IT?” screamed Ramona.

“I— I don’t…” Ron began— but Hermione was screaming as she did in the Manor as Crowthers crooned in Ron’s ears what he’d do to them. “Harry? Do you see it?”

He knelt down and peered into the darkness expecting to see Harry next to the opening, but his friend was bent over, hands on his ears.

“Harry!” Ron yelled at him.

Harry shook his head, green eyes wide and unseeing.

Ramona was pacing the back of the room, arms clutched around her middle. “We have to get out of here! They’re going to get us!”

“Who?” asked Ron.

“The Snatchers are coming!”

“Ramona, It’s not real! Whatever you’re hearing, it’s not—”

Hermione’s screams ripped through him.

Ramona was in the corner screaming. “Mum! Mummy! No! Please, Please!”

Harry on the ground with hands over his ears muttering to himself. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry!”

“Mate, it’s okay, we’re going to get you out of there!”

“I’m so sorry!” cried Harry.

“Riddikulus!” Ron shouted again, but nothing stopped the cacophony of terror; it rang through him as screams and nightmares flooded his ears.

“Someone tell me what’s happening!” Claudia pled.

“We’re… We’re hearing things!” he managed to say between hitched sobs. When had he started crying? Why couldn’t he Apparate to Hermione? He had to get out of the cellar! No… No he wasn’t in Malfoy Manor.

“Ron! Please help me,” sobbed Hermione before letting out another blood-curdling scream.

“Hermione!” he called back, punching the wall, but nothing helped.

A quicksand of fear was pulling him ever down down down. He wiped at his face, which was wet with something. Tears? Blood?

Where was he? Everything was dark… He couldn’t Apparate to Hermione! She needed him, or Crowthers would… Wait, she wasn’t there with him. He was alone… How… How did they get them all in Malfoy’s cellar again?

“I’m going to make you scream,” growled Crowthers.

He punched at the walls. He had to get to her! He couldn’t let Crowthers touch her!

He could see her on the other side, small and pale as she was dragged along the floor by her hair. She didn’t even flinch as she was thrown onto a stump and tied in place.

“Hermione!” He screamed and sobbed, but couldn’t get to her. His hands were bleeding as he madly scrabbled for her. “Hermione!”

Spiders of every size were crawling over him and he nearly vomited as their sharp little legs caught on his skin.

He tried to shake them off and get to Hermione, but blood was on the ground,slowly oozing towards him, and Crowther’s toxic breath was in his nostrils.

“Ron!” came an insistent voice from above him.

He shook his head. His mind felt flayed open, a rupture of raw hurt and confusion.

“Please answer me, Ron! What’s going on down there?!”

Suddenly Malfoy’s cellar was brightly lit, blinding him as he sobbed into the ground.

“Christ— he’s covered in Boggart dust! Put your shirt over your face or bubblehead charm yourself,” came a male voice.

There were murmurs, but the main thing he heard was Crowthers in his ear whispering, “tell me your name, pretty…”

A hand latched into him and he could see Fred, corpse pale, blood pooling down his neck and bits of brain falling onto the ground.

“It should’ve been you… George even said so,” said Fred without malice. He was right.

“Ron, don't let him kill me!” pleaded Hermione, tears in her eyes.

His head was wrenched back, and he threw an elbow trying to stop Crowthers. A stinging rush of something went up his nose. It had to be spiders crawling up inside his face scrabbling and tearing out his brain to lay eggs.

He was drowning and gagging as water flushed through his sinuses.

“Sorry, we need to get it all out of you,” a voice apologised.

“Get… What? Weneedta get Hermione…” he slurred. Another course of water flushed up his nose and down his throat, making him retch on the ground. He was sprayed down, and the cold made every muscle twitch.

“I needta stop ‘im… Crowthers!”

Hermione screamed in his ears and he struggled to get to her, not minding the sting of the cuts in his hands.

“He needs at least one more flush out once I pass him up to you,” said a male voice.

His teeth chattered as a spell lifted him into light.

“I’m sorry, but it looks like we need to do it once more, Ron,” someone said before water flushed through his sinuses a third time, stinging his eyes and even the inside of his cheek bones.

He coughed and felt snot dripping from his nose and hocked even more of it on the ground.

A warm hand was on his shoulder.

“You with me?”

He squinted up into the face of Neville.

“Nev?”

“Yes! Where are you?”

“I’m…” Ron blinked around the dark cavernous room. It wasn’t Malfoy Manor. It was well-lit compared to the hole he’d been in. Hermione wasn’t there. Crowthers wasn’t there… Fred and the spiders were gone… “The… The C.R.E. In a tunnel.”

“That’s right,” he nodded, giving a tight grin. Neville had the film of a bubblehead charm around his face, and Ron belatedly discovered he had one as well. The charm slightly distorted his view and made his breath feel hot on his face.

With a sudden realisation he scrambled for the hole they’d just lifted him from. “Oh fuck, we need to get Harry!”

“We’re getting him. It’s going to be okay, Ron,” said Neville, gently pushing him back until he was lying against the wall.

For some reason Ron started crying again. His voice was broken as deep sobs shook him. He wrapped his arms around himself. “M’sorry!”

“Don’t apologise. You all fell into an old Boggart breeding den, it looks like. That’s what Vyse said, anyway. There’s ‘Boggart dust’ everywhere. It basically makes you mad with fear and hallucinations until it works its way out of your system fully. Emotions of every kind will be intense for a bit, so we’ll stay here until you’re feeling up to moving.”

Ron looked over the side as he continued to cry.

The stones keeping Harry and Ramona imprisoned were floated aside.

“Spray down the area first, then we’ll get them individually,” ordered Vyse.

He could hear Ramona sobbing and screaming for her mother, but nothing from Harry. For minutes he waited, but he still hadn’t heard Harry’s voice.

Ron shook his head. “I need to help.”

“We’ve got it,” said Neville.

“No you don’t. Not with Harry.” Ron stood on wobbly knees and unshrunk his broom. They didn’t understand! Ron had seen Harry afraid before and he knew what he was capable of. He had been on the receiving end of punches as Harry was rent out of nightmares, and had seen his friend destroy an oak door because it slammed too hard.

He flew down to ground they’d cleared of Boggart dust. Ramona was sobbing on the ground, struggling against Theold as Vyse attempted to Aguamenti her face.

Harry was shaking, but otherwise limp on the ground, arm protectively grasping his shoulder with white knuckles. He was wet all over, a bubble charm in place.

“Ron? Shouldn’t you be up with Neville?” asked Kevin.

“M’fine,” he said, kneeling beside Harry. “Harry? You okay?”

“He hasn’t responded to any of us, and we’ve flushed him out like five times,” said Claudia, worry pinching her features.

For a moment Ron considered putting a restraint on Harry, but the thought of doing that to him after whatever he’d been forced to listen to was repugnant.

“Harry, I need to get some water into you again. It’s going to sting. Can you hear me?”

Harry stared ahead with open eyes, tear tracks or water running down his cheeks— Ron couldn’t tell which.

He removed the bubble charm.

“Aguamenti,” whispered Ron with a shaking voice. His own face was wet with tears again as he flushed Harry’s face with water and his friend barely flinched.

“Harry, wake up!” Ron said, giving his friend a shake.

“Flush him again,” he dimly heard Vyse say.

Ron performed another ‘aguamenti’ and with a start Harry flinched and vomited up orange tinged water on the ground.

“That’s it, get it all out,” Ron croaked.

Harry choked and spasmed before his bleary eyes caught Ron’s.

“R-Ron?” he whimpered.

“Yeah! Yeah it’s me,” Ron blubbered, unable to stop himself. Fucking Boggarts…

Claudia washed off Harry’s glasses and handed them to Ron. He put them in place and cast another bubble head charm on Harry.

Harry was pale and patted his hand along the ground for his wand.

“Here,” said Ron, handing it to him.

His friend took the wand, but didn’t try to move again. As Ron explained the Boggart dust, he could feel the wet tracks down his face and a gross itch at his nose. He wished he could wipe his face, but that might get more dust on him.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ron urged.

Harry weakly nodded, and limply let Ron guide him to a standing position.

“Here Ron, let me help,” said Kevin.

He put a hand on Ron’s back.

It felt like Crowthers was about to rut against him and he gave a small cry of alarm at the contact.

In an instant Harry wrenched away, his features twisting into an angry snarl. “DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Before anyone could react, a spell hurtled through the chamber, a destructive projectile hitting Kevin squarely in the chest. The large recruit flew into the wall with a gut-wrenching crunch before he vanished into thin air.

"Oh, shit!" Ron's exclamation mirrored the collective shock, his mind racing as panic and disbelief battled for dominance.

“What the fuck, Harry?” asked Theold, pointing his wand at Harry. All the wands were on Harry.

“Wait!” Ron said, standing in front of him. “It was an accident! It’s the Boggart dust. Don’t—”

Ropes were around Harry in an instant, and his friend let out an aborted cry before toppling.

“I’m sorry!” squeaked Claudia.

Ron knelt beside Harry as he shook on the ground, writhing like a mad man.

“Harry… Harry please snap out of it…”

“More water,” said Vyse, pushing Harry to a seated position. “You hold him, I’ll flush him out.”

Ron got behind him, putting Harry’s back against his own chest.

“Ready?” asked Vyse.

“Do it, already!” he said through gritted teeth, as Harry struggled and nearly hit Ron in the nose with the back of his thrashing head.

After what seemed like an endless stream of water Ron stopped them.

“Harry? You okay?”

“Wh-what?” came Harry’s voice, sounding so small it didn’t sound like him at all. “Ron? What… What happened?”

“You fucking spelled Kevin into the wall and now we’re down a man!” spat Theold.

“I… I what?” asked Harry.

He looked feeble and lost. Ron had seen Harry like this only a few times. When he spoke Parseltongue in second year. When he’d seen Cedric die. When he’d seen Dad nearly die. When Sirius was dead. When he’d held Dobby.

He might have been reliving those nights.

“It’s okay. He’ll be fine,” Ron assured him.

Harry’s eyes shifted his way, haunted, glossy and unsure. Then Ron’s arms were holding nothing. His friend was gone in an instant.

Ron stared at the spot where Harry had just been.

The vest had taken Harry out of the Exam.

“What the fuck?!”

“Looks like they realised he was a harm to himself and others,” snorted Theold.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, THEOLD!” Ron snarled.

A sear of vitriol scorched his insides until nothing was left but a burning hot coal.

Who were the Aurors to decide to take Harry away? Who was going to be there for Harry when he’d had to listen to Merlin knows what? They’d ripped him away and Ron had barely begun to comfort him. Had they put this snarl of Boggart dust on purpose?

Every bit of hate he’d felt now pointed in one direction: The Auror Department.

He was going to destroy them. He didn’t know how long it’d take, but he was going to dismantle them, and every one of their sick tests. He wouldn’t rest until every single person responsible for the fucked up nightmares he and Harry, and even fucking Ramona, had gone through, paid.

“Should… What should we do?” Claudia asked.

Ron glared at the group the moment eyes turned to him. “Stop fucking looking at me! I don’t know, okay?”

He stalked away from them.

He was sick and fucking tired of this stupid fucking exam, and all of them gormlessly staring at him every time they don’t know what to do.

They were still watching him in anticipation.

“Why don’t you come up with some ideas, eh? The one person who always knows what to do got fucking tortured and ripped out of here to wherever the fuck, and I’m—” He gripped his arms around himself and squeezed until his ribs ached. “I’m no one, and you’re looking at me like I have answers! I don’t have any fucking answers! I’m fucking tired and this is fucked. We’re fucked and —”

He stopped himself, seeing their faces for the first time since Harry’s disappearance. They were watching him with large eyes, not one of them moving.

They were scared.

He couldn’t stay angry.

Harry was supposed to be invincible. Hell, to them, they probably thought Ron was a bit invincible too— which still felt like putting on a jacket two sizes too small. Ramona was one of their toughest and she was still crying and rocking on the ground.

They were all shook by it.

And now that he’d yelled at them, they probably were a touch worried they’d need to have Ron in ropes like Harry.

He let out a sigh. “Okay…”

He rolled his neck, trying to buy a moment to think.

“I’m sorry… It’s okay, we’re not fucked.”

He fleetingly wished he could touch his face. He hadn’t realised how often he wiped his hands over his face and through his hair as he thought. He wanted to push on his head and hopefully wring out a wild hare idea like one would a wet towel.

“We need to get out of this hole in the ground.”

“And we’ll need to take a moment to recover,” said Vyse with a tiny nod at Ramona.

“Right,” said Ron, taking a steadying breath. No one knew what she’d been through, but he had the closest idea of it.

He didn’t like her. Not one bit. She hated him and Harry for no reason and was surly, rude, prideful, irrational; just about everything he disdained… but she’d clearly been through something terrible.

“You lot go on up. I’ll sort things out here.”

All the recruits quickly did as he said, leaving him with Ramona; All, save Neville.

“Nev…” Ron began.

“I’m only here as back up,” he said, putting his hands up and wedging himself in the far corner.

He wasn’t sure how much Neville could do if Ramona were to go full feral on him at close proximity, but he appreciated the gesture.

He decided approaching Ramona like a wounded animal was best. He’d been around a skittish animal or two over the years. He wasn’t great with beasts, but he could try.

Despite knowing she’d probably hate him more for it, he knelt down beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. She twitched but let it remain as sobs continued to shake through her.

“They got the powder off of you, right?”

She nodded and gave a vociferous sniff.

“I know it may be hard, but you need to stop thinking about things from the past. Think of right now, this moment.”

Her face seems to crumple further and her eyebrows scrunched together.

“Don’t try to be nice to me! You hate me!” she cried.

“I don’t hate you,” Ron said, but couldn’t stop himself from adding. “I don’t particularly like you- but—”

“No- you should hate me,” she said with a shake of her head, scowl turning ugly and slightly unhinged, “because I hate you! You and Potter.”

“Shock and horror, what a surprise!” Ron feigned, rolling his eyes.

“I’m only sorry they didn’t kick you out with crazy Potter.”

Ron immediately dropped all pretence of politeness.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” He looked to the ceiling. “Was your Dad a Death Eater or something? Fucking hell…”

A sharp, almost manic laugh escaped from Ramona's lips. "My dad isn't anything anymore."

Ron's confusion deepened, his anger momentarily clouded by her cryptic statement.

"Okay?" he responded, concern and exasperation uncomfortably mixing together.

She brooded on the ground, no answer forthcoming. Fuck it.

“At the end of this exam, either I never have to see you again or we’re going to be co workers. Either way, I’m over this. What is it, Ramona? You said you hate me and Harry— so why? What the fuck have we ever done to you?”

Ramona's gaze bore into his, her eyes holding a world of pain and resentment.

“You’ve never done anything!” she yelled, acid and venom in every syllable.

“What does that mean?!” he roared back.

“It means you are the biggest disappointments I’ve ever had to meet!” she bit. “September first last year. Do you remember what you did that day?”

Of course he remembered. Every instant he could perfectly recall, until he was splinched; then it all got rather blurry.

He nodded his head, but began to dread what might come out of her mouth.

“You lot saved the Cattermoles. The Joneses. Cynthia Dooley. Robbie Reins. And more! I know the name of every person you saved that day,” she said with a sniff. “My parents are both Muggleborn… And my Dad reported to the Muggleborn Commission Registry September the first, but he didn’t escape.”

Ron’s stomach dropped.

“When we realised Dad wasn’t coming back, the rest of us ran for it. My Muggle-born mum, myself and my little sister…” Her voice trembled with emotion.

“I was so stupid… I really thought you might help my family like you did the rest. I kept telling my little sister you three were going to end the war. That we’d be safe. You’d save dad eventually!”

She turned her head down to her lap.

“They captured my sister and took her back to Hogwarts. That’s when they killed Mum,” she said, almost conversationally.

“I listened to Potterwatch every day hoping you might do something to help. Maybe free prisoners from Azkaban, strike the Ministry again, or free everyone from Hogwarts. Anything to help!”

Big tears formed in her eyes.

“But you never did.”

Shame wasn't a new feeling to Ron; he felt it daily for over a decade. It was a heavy cloak he'd worn since his earliest memories, a cloak woven from threads of poverty, indifference, and perceived inadequacy.

Growing up poor in the cramped Burrow, he had often felt the sting of shame as his hand-me-down clothes bore the marks of his older brothers' wear. There was an ever-present whisper in the back of his mind, telling him he was the unwanted sixth boy when his mother had secretly yearned for a daughter. The weight of shame had pressed even harder when he compared himself to his accomplished siblings and friends. And there were the insecurities he carried with him into adulthood. The gnawing fear he was never enough, not as a wizard, not as a friend, not even as a person. The lurking doubt he was merely a sidekick to Harry, forever in his shadow. The dread he'd never live up to the expectations of his friends, his family, or himself.

A litany of inadequacies played in his mind every day, echoing the voices of those who had ever doubted him.

Ramona's tears fell, and her words found a familiar dwelling place among the many shadows of shame that already haunted him. He wanted to explain, to tell her how much he'd wanted to do all those things she'd hoped for, but the words caught in his throat.

He had a wider group of people he’d let down than ever before. How many more people were out there cursing him for not doing enough?

Neville, who had been listening quietly, interjected, “Ramona… They did help. They were the most responsible for ending the war.”

“Not in time!” Ramona pressed on, her words heavy with pain. “My sister was tortured in that school— Dad got a Dementor’s kiss a couple of weeks before the Battle at Hogwarts. If they’d done something my dad might still be… be my dad.”

“Ramona…” Neville insisted. “It’s terrible what happened to your family. But this is not on Ron or Harry or Hermione. They’re just teenagers and it was a — ”

“Just teenagers?” Ramona spat, eyes falling to Ron. “I thought maybe… maybe you were ‘just teenagers’ when I finally met you at the first exam. I thought maybe I had been delusional, thinking anyone as entitled and lazy as you could be a hero… But then I saw you duel, how you flew, and how you lead…”

She shook her head.

“You’re not ‘just some teens!’ I’ve seen you! You’re amazing in the field. It’s like watching real-life superheroes… You broke into the Ministry, and Gringott’s and Hogwarts and saved so many families. You’re good and smart, and I had to watch as you helped family after family, but never mine!”

“That’s enough!” Neville said standing up. “You know that’s not fair, right? To expect them to save everyone?”

“They could've saved my family!” Her hard look crumbled and Ron wondered how young she was. She looked small and he found all the lingering anger at Ramona became brittle as tears welled in her eyes. “S-someone could’ve…”

Ron slowly slid down next to her.

"I’m sorry…” said Ron, not exactly sure what he meant by it. It was everything and nothing. It was a condolence for someone who had lost so much. It was an apology for not doing enough to end the war sooner. It was empty words to soothe someone whose anger and mourning he could endlessly empathise with. It was a place holder so he didn’t shout at the injustice of it all, or the injustice of being blamed. “I’m sorry we couldn’t do more.”

“Don’t apologise, Ron,” said Neville, voice surprisingly stern. “You did what you could, and it was so much… You don’t have a thing to apologise for.”

Part of Ron wanted to agree and tell Ramona off for her delusions. What did she think he was? How could she think him capable of saving her family? It was completely demented!

But… But he still wished he could’ve done it. Even if it was barmy and unrealistic and impossible…

And he had to wonder, how many other families had they let down? How many other people died or had their lives destroyed because they took too long gathering Horcruxes?

“So…” Ron managed to say through a tight voice. “Is it just you and your sister, now?”

“My dad’s not dead… I take care of him when his nurse can’t. That's why I was late for this exam—we’d run out of catheters and it was a huge mess, and then he puked, and I couldn't leave my sister alone with that. His nurse didn't show up because of a flat tire, and— and…”

“That sounds like a lot," Neville's voice cut through, a mix of understanding and sympathy. If anyone could understand ‘losing’ a parent, but they’re still alive, it was Neville.

Ramona nodded, her tears continuing to fall, and for a moment, amidst the pain and regret, a fragile connection formed between them all.

“Shall we join the others?” asked Neville.

Ron nodded while Ramona bit her lip.

“I don’t know how useful I can be, right now,” she said, voice smaller than he’d ever heard it.

“Ramona,” said Ron, standing up with a small groan. “You’re strong; tough as shit and mean as a fucking bag of rabid badgers. Let’s use that and end this exam, okay? Then you can throw darts at my photo or whatever you do in your spare time.”

Somehow that made her snort and a small smile flickered across her face.

“So… are you ready to kick arse?” he asked, finally noticing how sore his shoulders were from stooping.

She nodded and accepted a ride on his broom to the surface level.

“All good?” asked Vyse as they squinted into the sunny street.

“Yeah,” said Ron, giving his body one more Aguamenti before removing the bubble charm.

They were expectantly watching him, but this time he had a plan, a clear mind, and a fiery coal of hate against the Ministry keeping him going.

“Claudia, did you put a tracking mark on the Squid?”

She nodded the affirmative and did a Point Me spell.

“Brilliant. Okay we can hunt it down properly, now,” he said looking at his map. “When we were underground we weren’t able to hurt the Squid, except the red window. Harry managed to crack it. We need to break it to pieces and get the Aurors to leave the Squid.”

“Why would they leave it?” asked Ramona. “It can defend everything we throw at it.”

“Only if the arms are moving,” he said. “For a second, as the tunnel collapsed, an arm got stuck. If we get its arms stuck and bust through the window, we can get them.”

“It burrowed into the ground last time. Is there a way to prevent that from happening again?” asked Vyse.

“At the corner of the map,” said Ron, expanding the shrunk map from his arm for all to see and pointed to a spot. “Harry and I got to the edge and hit an invisible barrier. I’d wager the Squid can’t get past it either.”

“And once we get the Aurors out?” asked Theold.

“We need to split the Aurors up. If we get them in the open, we might stand a chance.”

“If they’re an easier target out in the open, we are too,” noted Neville. The corners didn’t offer much cover either.

“Then we’ll have given them a bloody good show for their money.”

The group grinned at one another.

“That’s all they want anyways,” Ron added in an undertone.

In minutes, the plan was in motion, and the recruits were positioned. Vyse and Ramona soared through the air on their brooms to strategically herd the Squid toward the designated corner of the map.

Ron, Neville, Theold, and Claudia waited with bated breath for the moment the Squid would come their way.

The waiting was absolutely interminable, and soon bated breaths turned to sighs and huffs.

The high sun had shifted and the shadows were growing long across the alley.

Standing at the ready in their buildings made his shoulders ache and hands twitch for something to do. The stillness of waiting let his exhaustion slowly take over. He was counting bricks to stay awake, when a tiny lone beetle landed on the sill.

The black beetle marched along, swaying to and fro as a small breeze tried to buffet it about. Its little legs made it positively waddle.

He let out a snort, and Claudia began to watch it too, an amused look on her face.

The two let out a small laugh as the beetle tripped over a nail and fell over, its small legs wildly flailing for purchase.

“Oh no,” Claudia let out, trying to poke it off its back without touching its little insect legs. Her compassion for the little bug reminded him of Hermione; she was always cooing at gross little things.

He told as much to Claudia as he pushed the beetle over for her, not minding touching it. Somehow beetles weren’t the same as spiders.

“She had a soft spot for Kreacher even, and he’d been calling her slurs for years!” laughed Ron.

“How did you and Hermione get together?” Claudia asked, a sappy look on her face he’d seen girls get about anything remotely romantic.

“Dazzled her with my good looks and charm,” he joked, watching the beetle nestle down and take a rest, no doubt exhausted from its time flailing.

Neville let out a snort.

Claudia watched Ron expectantly, a broad smile on her face.

“Well, maybe it wasn’t entirely those,” he conceded with a small laugh.

“Those two were dancing around each other for years,” said Neville with a rueful shake of his head. “We thought sixth year it’d happen. Dean, Seamus and I had a betting pool and everything.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” said Ron. “Eventually I got my head out of my arse… ”

“How long have you been together?” asked Claudia.

“Only a month or so, but I’ve been mad about her for years. I mean, she’s brilliant and beautiful and has this wicked passion about every single thing she does. And she’s fucking brave, it’s unbelievable. She sacrificed so much during the war, but even before, she’s the most kickarse witch I’ve ever met.”

Theold rolled his eyes while Neville and Claudia grinned at him.

His cheeks reddened as he realised how much a gushing sap he was being.

“Anyway, that’s part of why I’m joining the Aurors; so I can help her out when we get our signing bonus.”

“That’s so sweet!” Claudia sighed, her curiosity sated.

“Didn’t you win the Order of Merlin?” asked Theold. “You get thousands of galleons with that— no need for a piddly signing bonus.”

Ron’s head swung round to look at Theold. He didn’t seem to be joking.

“Yeah, my gran said something like that,” Neville confirmed with a nod.

“Oh…” said Ron, not sure how to respond. Did he not need the Auror money after all? The thought of having his own money was nice… but he wasn’t sure he liked it coming from his time in the war…

“How ‘bout you? Why are you joining up?” he asked Claudia, happy to have the attention away from his money matters and his soppiness for his girlfriend.

Claudia gave an embarrassed look.

“I don’t know… I just… The war was terrible, and I didn’t feel like I got to help the way I wanted.” Her posture slowly fell.

“How so?” asked Neville.

“When I read history books, I’d sometimes sit and think ‘ohhh if I had lived in that time period, I would have helped lead a rebel cause, or saved people!’ I thought very grandly of myself… But I didn’t do much of anything and didn’t know how to. I only worked at a farm with rescue animals. I wasn’t part of anything…”

“What kind of animals?”

“All kinds of magical pets— cats, owls, goats, rats— you name them. During the war there were so many animals homeless or hurt. That’s how I got good at tracking spells, and it didn’t hurt with my flying either. We’d get a floo or owl telling us about an abandoned animal, and I’d go in to retrieve it then rehab the animal, if needed,” she said with a shrug. “But I wasn’t like you or your friends. I didn’t save anyone.”

“Sounds like you saved a lot of someone’s pets, though,” said Neville. “I’m sure all those pets’ owners would be happy to know they were in good hands.”

She glumly leaned against the window.

“Not everyone is going to be on the front lines, but you were where you were needed,” said Ron. “If something happened to me, I’d want to know my little Pig was okay.”

“You own a pig?” Theold asked.

“Ooo really?” squealed Claudia.

“Oh! No, that’s my owl,” Ron snorted. The rest of the recruits shared grins. “Don’t look at me like that, my little sister named him.”

“I didn’t say anything!” she laughed.

“Pushover,” said Theold, a vaguely amused look on his face.

“You know… You’re a lot less scary than you seem in the papers,” said Claudia.

“I seem scary?” Ron asked, flabbergasted that anyone could find him intimidating, let alone that he had a reputation for it.

“Mhmm!” she brightly hummed. “The pictures all make you look brooding, and the papers all write about ‘eight foot tall Weasley and his terrible temper’— how you were like a fearsome bodyguard for Harry.”

Bemused, Ron continued to look at the beetle. Him? Brooding and fearsome? He’d only skimmed a few articles before chucking them in a fury, but hadn’t imagined something like that…

“I mean, you are unreasonably tall,” added Theold with a snort from the corner.

“And you definitely can be scary when you’re mad, but… You’re nice. And smart. They didn’t say anything about that.”

He gave a small grunt. Of course they didn’t. “Maybe they called me a smart arse.”

“Your plans have been smashing,” she said with certainty. “If I don’t get to be an Auror… It’s been nice getting to know you.”

“I’m sure you’ll pass. You’ve done really well.”

“Nothing like you.”

Unsure of how to answer, Ron looked to the ceiling. It was cracked and peeling.

He wished he knew how to comfort her, but as usual he wasn’t sure what to do. Ron wasn’t good with words. Funny asides he was okay at… With Harry and Hermione at least.

“If I learned one thing,” he began, trying to comb out a good way to say it, “comparing your achievements with others only leads to heartache. Believe me, I had six siblings and Harry fucking Potter as measuring sticks for years.”

She let out a small laugh.

“Okay, that helps,” she acknowledged. “What about you, Theold? Why are you joining?”

“Because I’d be awesome at it.”

“Come on! Why really?”

He gave a shrug. “Sometimes it’s not that deep. I would be awesome at it.”

“Theooold,” Claudia complained.

“Ask Longbottom.”

“Fine! Neville? Why are you joining?”

Neville thought about it in silence before answering, “this seems like where I’m needed.”

Neville and Ron shared a smile.

“See? Not everyone is a mushy sap like Weasley,” said Theold with a sly smile.

Ron was about to protest when their wrists heated.

‘Nearly there! -Vyse’

Ron shooed the beetle away. “Get out of here, little guy. Don’t want you getting crushed in the upcoming duels.”

With a few pushes of his finger, the beetle buzzed off.

Wands at the ready, they crouched. His thighs twitched like coiled springs, and the agonised suspense took over him. A strange cocktail of fatalistic relief and a blaze of resentment surged within him as the Squid approached. He hated every person in that thing…

He heard the Squid before he saw it. Each step it took viciously crunched into the ground.

Through a small crack in the wall he spied the tiny figures of Vyse and Ramona weaving a path behind the Squid on their brooms like a pair of herding dogs in a field. The moment the Squid turned down an alley, they’d zip to the other side and head it off.

The earth trembled into a chaotic dance as the Squid stampeded down the alley, its metallic appendages thrashing.

“NOW!” Ron's command cut through the chaos, and the recruits launched themselves into action.

Cobblestones exploded, and rubble flew as Ron and Claudia threw forward their ropes. The thick cables wrapped along the length of one of the Squid arms. Its arm was secured to the concrete barriers in the street.

Meanwhile, Theold and Neville did the same to the other side, leaving two arms of the Squid stretched tight.

The ropes strained and the bestial Squidroom thrashed and groaned at the effort.

The ground-recruits fled as Vyse and Ramona flew around the remaining tentacle-like legs and tied them off.

“GET CLEAR!” Neville yelled as he and Theold set off the explosive spells.

The percussive blast sent rubble flying, and if not for shield charms, Ron might have had his skull split by a flying chunk of cement the size of a quaffle.

The buildings on either side of the Squid remained standing for only a moment before collapsing in a sea of dust and particulates, locking the Squid in place.

He could barely see the Aurors inside, but none were standing after the impact to the Squid.

This was their chance.

“THE WINDOW!” Ron bellowed.

As one, the recruits aimed their spells at the blood-red glass. Unable to dodge or deflect spells, the already cracked window shattered.

The recruits continued the assault on the jagged window, but soon spells met theirs, and the Aurors emerged.

A white-hot spell snapped through the air and nearly hit Ron in the temple. He pulled his head back and nearly lost his balance behind a pillar.

He activated his watch:

‘Split up! -Ron’

Ramona and Theold converged like a whirlwind on Sealy-Pearce. Across the fray, Robards squared off against Vyse and Neville, a furious tempest of spells erupting around them.

Claudia ran towards Ron when a red spell hit her from behind. She gave the smallest of ‘eeps’ before her vest disappeared along with her.

Behind her disappearing form, wand raised, stood Musaad.

Spells blazed through the air, creating a kaleidoscope of magic as recruits fought tooth and nail against the fierce Aurors. And then there was Ron. He had no partner. It was him against the best dueller he’d ever met. He was on his own, and in the open.

‘Get to cover! Get to cover!’ raced through his mind.

He ran.

Ron scrambled across the rubble-covered cobblestones, his movements far from agile as he evaded the barrage.

He blindly cast a stinging hex. It must have hit its mark, for Musaad gave a grunt. Despite any injury, Musaad didn’t slow an iota.

Ron had to climb over a downed wall on all fours to avoid a crack of spells. The jagged stones clawed at his palms, but he ignored the discomfort, his sole focus on reaching the nearby building.

Spells crashed all around, and shards of debris tore and whirled around him.

He finally reached the building and hurled himself through the shattered doorway. The room was a dim, wooden chamber with peeling wallpaper, and offered minimal cover. He realised, with a sinking feeling, that he'd be a sitting—

‘DUCK!’ the command echoed in his ears as his instincts took over.

He dropped to the floor as a lethal bolt of magic snapped viciously beside him. The spell collided with the cracked wall, sending splinters raining down like deadly raindrops. A fair few punctured his arm and he let out a hiss.

Ron's heart raced as he scrambled to his feet, wand in hand.

“Fuck!” he let out as a purple spell was hurled his way.

He flicked his wand, barely conjuring a shield in time.

Musaad's assault rebounded off the barrier, unleashing a shockwave through the room's walls. Wooden beams groaned, and dust and debris filled the air like a choking fog.

The scent of scorched wood and ozone hung heavy in the air as Ron crouched behind his meagre flickering shield. He couldn't last long staying pinned down like this.

Seconds seemed stretched into agonising minutes as Ron tried to formulate a plan.

He didn’t have the element of surprise on his side. They weren’t trapped in the confines of a duelling ring — Musaad was free-range and relentless!

Ron’s breaths came in ragged gasps as the shield's surface flickered, its strength waning with every spell Musaad hurled his way.

‘Move it, Weasley!’

With a surge of determination, he threw the shield towards Musaad and cast a Conjunctivitus curse, temporarily blinding the man. Ron tried to bolt deeper into the building, but the floorboards creaked with each heavy step and Musaad quickly spelled him through an already crumbling wall, inches away from hitting a brick fireplace. Damn, he needed to avoid hard surfaces… Or did he?

His body ached and protested, but he pushed himself from the ground and ran further into the building. Ron managed to send a few spells back at Musaad. One spell grazed Musaad's shoulder, leaving a searing mark on his robe, while another sunk Musaad’s feet into a swamp-like mire, buying Ron precious seconds to widen the space between them.

If he could get Musaad in close quarters with hard surfaces, Ron might be able to beat him. If he missed with a precision spell, at least Musaad might get thrown into something that could incapacitate him.

"Where's... A... Fucking... Bathroom?!" he muttered to himself. his frantic search taking him from room to room.

Musaad's spells pursued him relentlessly, each one an intimidating reminder of his adversary's expertise. The gap between them was closing fast. Musaad prowled after his prey with precision and didn’t even seem winded, while Ron flailed and felt his lungs burning to shreds.

For an instant he dared to look back as he ran up the stairs.

“Weasley, you can’t keep running,” said Musaad, a glint of mirth in his eyes.

Ron burst through another door, finding himself in yet another narrow wooden hallway.

And then, at last, he found it.

An old, tiled bathroom stood before him, complete with a porcelain tub and sink; it was the perfect battleground.

Musaad sent a quick series of hexes Ron’s way, and he narrowly blocked them, but was forcibly thrown into the room across from the bathroom.

The room was cluttered with overturned furniture and shattered remnants of what once might have been a bedroom.

His breath came in ragged gasps as he regained his footing. With unsure movements he began to cast the unfamiliar spell. He’d just finished swiping his want through the air, when it was wrenched from his hand.

Musaad had taken up the doorway and disarmed him, easily catching Ron’s wand.

“Looks like you’re disarmed, Weasley.”

“Looks like it,” said Ron, slowly rising as Musaad’s wand was pointed at his chest.

“Hands up,” said Musaad, doing a small indication with his wand. Ron complied, slowly raising his hands, his fingers trembling with fatigue. Blood trickled from a small cut on his forehead, mingling with the sweat clinging to his brow.

“You’ve been a worthy opponent,” said Musaad, raising his wand and taking a deliberate step forward into the room.

Musaad’s foot landed on a floorboard that twisted and whipped him across the hall like a slingshot. Musaad crashed back-first into the porcelain tub, a loud groan escaping his lips as the wands slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground.

With a ferocity born of desperation, Ron ran at him. He didn’t bother going for the wands— he let his fist fly. Pain seared through his hand, and he was fairly certain he'd broken a knuckle, but the satisfaction of seeing Musaad's condescending smirk wiped away was worth the agony.

Musaad finally lay still, face punchdrunk and unfocused.

Ron tapped the shield badge on Musaad's chest with his trembling fingers, activating the portkey spell that would send his adversary to the same unknown destination Harry had been sent earlier.

As Musaad disappeared in a snarl of magical light, Ron spat a glob of blood onto the floor, his chest heaving with exertion and triumph.

He tiredly bent and picked up his wand.

There was a calming chime, like a muted gong. A disembodied female voice, much like the lifts in the Ministry Lobby announced, “The third Combat Readiness Exam is now over. Prepare for evacuation.”

He only had time to blink before he felt the twist and pull of the vest taking him back to the Auror Department.

He expected to see a room full of recruits and Aurors. He expected to see Harry and Kevin and Claudia waiting. He expected the mirrors watching him and quills recording his every move. He expected someone there to help with his plentiful, but thankfully minor, injuries.

Instead, Ron was met with a dingy dark grey room with a lone bed against the wall, a side table and a toilet in the corner. He tried the door, but it was locked.

He performed a series of spells but Anti-Apparition spells were in place and nothing he knew would work.

“Hello?” he hoarsely called through the door, hitting the door with the fat of his fist. “Anyone there?”

No one answered him, but a pitcher of water and a cup appeared on the small table.

Suddenly, the disembodied voice was back: “Greetings Recruit, Interviews for the Fourth and Final Combat Readiness Exam have begun. When your interview time is near you will be released into the antechamber.

“Fucking ‘course they think locking us in solitary is a good idea,” Ron muttered.

He glanced at his watch but it was dented and the time was stuck at one sixteen in the morning.

“Do you have any injuries, Recruit?” asked the voice.

“I don’t know.” he rasped. Only the sound of ‘no’ must have registered because no one responded to his answer. It took at least a minute before he felt in his body enough to know if he had any injuries. He had a series of splinters up and down his left arm

Ron went to the pitcher and poured a glass. It was then he realised his wand hand’s finger didn’t want to bend around the glass. He must’ve either jammed it or broken it; he’d never quite been sure how to tell one from the other. He could do spells with his left hand, but didn’t quite trust the non-dominant hand to do something like heal bones.

Too tired and angry to worry about the interview, he drank his fill, took a piss, then sat back on the bed, picking splinters out of his arm. He was filthy and in dire need of a shower. His clothes began to cool and stiffen with sweat, and soon he was shivering.

The grime of battle still clung to him, and he felt a desperate need for a cleansing shower.

Restlessly, he attempted to find solace in a thin blanket. It offered little comfort or warmth. Micronaps, brief and fragmented, beckoned like distant islands of respite in a sea of exhaustion. Each time he slipped into the realm of sleep, he awoke with a start, the remnants of his nightmares with the Boggart dust haunting him.

He couldn't discern how much time had passed when the door to his cell finally swung open, its hinges creaking. With wary caution, Ron edged closer to the doorway.

The room he entered was a stark contrast to the cold, featureless cell. Warm wooden panels adorned the walls, radiating a sense of comfort that felt foreign after the ordeal he'd endured. His gaze fell upon Neville and Ramona

"Hey!" Neville greeted him, offering a weary but genuine smile.

Ron nodded in acknowledgment. "Were you stuck in a grey cell too?

"They let me out a moment ago," Neville confirmed, his voice tinged with relief.

“What time is it?”

“Search me,” Neville said, holding up his own damaged watch. “Got smashed and I’m rotten at repairing anything with mechanics.”

Ramona held up Vyse’s lucky coin and a bit of string. “It’s not a watch anymore.”

“Who made it to the end?” asked Ron.

“We’re all that’s left,” replied Neville.

“They okay?”

Neville gave a helpless shrug. “I have to assume so. Vyse got hit with a spell, then zipped away. I don’t know what happened to Theold.”

“The Squid got loose and pinned him, then he disappeared,” said Ramona.

Ron walked around the room checking each door. He was concerned for everyone, but most of all Harry. There was no sign of life beyond long-abandoned beds and drinking glasses with sips of water left.

“I’m sure Harry’s okay,” said Neville.

Ron shook his head. “I wouldn’t trust the Aurors with the care and feeding of a rock…”

Ramona gave a small snort.

“Are either of you any good with episkey? I think I broke my knuckle on Musaad’s chin,” he said, holding up a purpling knuckle. His finger could only marginally wiggle, but couldn’t hold anything or go into a fist.

“That’s not the same hand as earlier, right?” asked Neville, holding up his wand.

Ron made a hardy attempt to temper his glare. “No.”

Neville said the spell, and Ron’s knuckle gave a gross ‘pop.’

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Ron hissed in pain, but soon it was only a dull ache. “How about you? Any broken bits you need healed?”

Neville shook his head. “Surprisingly unscathed! Bruised as all out, but I have some okay bruise paste at home.”

Ron gave a grunt of approval, then looked to Ramona. She was wane and pale, but had a foreboding glare clearly telling him ‘fuck off and die terribly, if you please.’

“How about you?” Ron asked, despite himself.

Her glare softened the smallest amount. “The same ankle I hurt in the second exam is sore.”

“Need me to wrap it?”

She bit her lip, then nodded in assent.

He worked quickly and quietly. The ankle was swollen, but not nearly the purple mess it had been a few days prior.

“Thank you,” she quietly said as he was midway wrapping her ankle.

He nearly dropped her foot in surprise.

“Er… You’re welcome.”

Thankfully he had set her foot on the ground when she continued surprising him.

“You…” she began. “You helped me today. And the last exam.”

Unsure of what to say he opted to say nothing.

“That’s pretty par for the course for Ron and his friends,” said Neville, words more weighty than he let on.

A door opened and out came Sealy-Pearce, posture as straight as ever.

“Weasley. It’s time for your interview,” she said, face devoid of any emotion.

Neville gave his shoulder a squeeze and Ron promptly stood.

“Good luck,” said Ramona. She was unsmiling, but he could tell she meant it.

The corridor they went down was narrow, and his shoulder nearly caught on a torch as they passed by.

“Is Harry okay?” he asked her.

“He’s uninjured.”

That wasn’t the same as being okay, he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue.

Sealy-Pearce said nothing as she led the way, which was fine by Ron. He never was good at small talk with authority figures— not that they typically took much time with him anyways. Perhaps he hadn’t had the chance to practise.

Either way, he knew the simmering rage he felt towards the whole department wouldn’t be able to kept in check for long. It was best he held his tongue, grit his teeth and pushed down every swear and insult scrambling to break free.

They finally entered a small room that looked more like a place of interrogation than an ‘interview.’ It probably was an interrogation room. Behind a long wooden table sat Musaad, Robards, the Auror he had taken out on the roof, and another female Auror he didn’t recognize. They left an empty seat on the end Sealy-Pearce promptly filled.

“Take a seat, Weasley,” said Robards, waving a hand to reveal a wooden chair behind a small table with a pitcher and glass of water.

He sat, and immediately realised the chair was terribly uncomfortable. The back was too low, and the seat managed to slide back in an angle that made his tailbone hurt.

Ron stood, waved his wand and made it more his size and sat back down. If he was going to be fucked with, he’d at least do it without a sore arse.

“Water?” asked Robards.

“No thanks,” said Ron, trying to figure out where to lay his hands. On the table? In his lap?

“That was quite a show you put on in the exam,” said Robards, a wry smile on his face. “Quite a show… Musaad and Sealy-Pearce had said you were good, but I was impressed. We hadn’t heard much of you before this. Usually there are rumblings if someone has potential, but I didn’t hear anything about you from Hogwarts. Why is that?”

Ron clenched his fist and tried to convince his face not to flush. His face gave him the middle finger and slowly began turning him red, one centimetre at a time.

“I don’t know much about how ‘rumblings’ work,” Ron said, a small shrug.

He found himself rather impressed with his answer. He’d sounded sort of cool and nonchalant, in a way he rarely felt. The feeling of calm abated when he saw the unimpressed look on Robards face.

“Would you care to expand on that?”

Fuck.

“I dunno…” he said with a small cough.

He didn’t know what to tell them. All he could think of is things he probably shouldn’t say. Ron knew he probably shouldn’t say it was because he’d never been noticed a day in his life. He probably shouldn’t say he was useless compared to everyone else. He probably shouldn’t say they were putting him on the fucking spot and could eat a bag of dicks.

“Have some water, Weasley,” said Robards.

He promptly took a drink, and used it to buy more time. The water had a slightly acrid taste to it that made him wish for better water to wash it down with.

He had done things at Hogwarts… He’d never done them all that well, but he’d done things! He’d helped Hermione and Harry get across the chess board. He’d gone to the Ministry. He’d fought Death Eaters… He’d tried. And he’d obviously done alright in these trials.

“Maybe ‘rumblings’ aren’t much compared to people actually doing things?” Ron asked, scrambling to put his thoughts together and finishing off his glass of water.

“I mean, Neville’s obviously good enough to be an Auror, but I don’t think there were ‘rumblings’ before last year with him. But he was bloody brilliant at the Ministry in fifth year, and in sixth year he was there fighting off Death Eaters too.”

A few of the Aurors nodded, but Musaad bent forward. “This isn’t about Longbottom. This is about you.”

“I know that,” said Ron, irritation growing. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to tell you why I was underestimated by people. That’s on you, isn’t it?”

He nearly slapped a hand over his mouth. He had to say the wrong thing.

Musaad leaned back in his chair, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Your performance today suggests you have the skills," Robards conceded. "But being an Auror is about more than skills. It's about dedication, teamwork, and a commitment to upholding the law. Do you feel you’d be capable of that?”

“Yes… I mean, I hope so,” said Ron with a shrug. “I’m… I try to be there for people. And if a law is a good one, then yeah, I’d commit to upholding it.”

“Sometimes you’ll be asked to uphold laws you don’t agree with,” said Sealy-Pearce, her face unreadable.

“Like the ones Voldemort put in place last year?” Immediately scowls turned his way. Ron averted his eyes. “If the Ministry has just laws, I’ll do my best. If it falls to hell again… That’s a different story.”

“What would you do?” she asked.

“Probably the same as last year,” he said, squinting at her and leaning back.

“Would you like to tell us more about your actions in the last year?” asked Robards.

Ron knew he’d have to tread carefully. The last year had more secrets than he thought himself capable of holding.

“Erm… What part do you want to know about?”

“We know you didn’t go to Hogwarts last year. Had a clever ruse with the ghoul taking your place,” said Robards, a genial smile on his face. “Was that your work or Arthur’s?”

“My idea, but my dad helped a bit with the spells.”

A few of the Aurors nodded in approval.

“So before you were captured at Malfoy Manor, what were you doing? I’m assuming you were part of the Ministry break in?”

“I was.”

“Why did you break in?”

“We needed to retrieve an object.”

Ron’s fingers tightened into the slight folds on the side of his trousers.

He wondered how much they knew of what he’d been up to with Harry and Hermione. Was this line of questioning about Ron and further proving his abilities by describing his record?

“What was this object?” asked Robards, genial mood slowly slipping into something more pointed and eager.

Were they fishing for more information about Horcruxes? If they were, they were a fat lot of idiots because he would never tell them anything. He’d rather bleed out on the floor and let them have an inkling of anything they wanted.

“A h—” Ron stopped himself. What the fuck? He hadn’t meant to say a thing and he’d nearly said Horcrux. He must have been more tired than he thought. “An object to help stop Voldemort.”

“Was this a Horcrux?” pressed Robards.

“I didn’t ask it,” said Ron.

Robards expression turned glacial.

“You were pretty gabby in the transcripts of your exams, Weasley. Is there a particular reason you’re reticent now?”

“I’m answering your questions,” said Ron, struggling to keep his voice neutral.

Robards leaned forward, his gaze sharpening. "Tell me, Weasley, have you ever had any struggles with your mental health? Stress, anxiety, anything of that sort?"

He knew Robards was trying to throw him with a sudden change in tack. Unfortunately, it was working.

Ron's heart stumbled and he hesitated for a moment, his voice less steady.

“Y-yeah. Sometimes. The last few years I’ve been fighting Death Eaters, I’ve lost people, and my family and friends were in danger… I think I’d be barmy not to have stress and anxiety during that.”

“But what about after? Today you had an extreme reaction to the Boggart dust,” noted Musaad.

“Everyone did,” said Ron, crossing his arms.

“Well, at least you didn’t dangerously blast one of your fellow recruits,” Musaad conceded.

“That wasn’t his fault!” Ron protested, struggling to keep himself in check. “He’s been through more than anyone.”

“Apparently…” Musaad with a small snort.

“Watch it,” Ron warned.

“You seem angry.”

“Of course I am. You’re a bunch of sadists who tortured my friend!”

“We didn’t put Boggart dust in the field,” assured the rooftop Auror. “The breeding den had been underground for years, it seems, growing without our knowledge.”

“Oh like that’s better! You put a bunch of people in danger—”

“None of you were in danger from that Boggart den you stumbled across. The only danger was from your friend,” Musaad added.

“Stop saying that!”

“You could barely restrain him when he was going mad. Are you really saying you don’t think Potter is dangerous under those circumstances?”

“He was but—” Ron cut himself off. He hadn’t meant to say that.

“Have you ever seen Potter behave dangerously before?”

He had to fight to keep himself from saying yes. Why was it so difficult?

“Under the right circumstances anyone can be dangerous!” Ron growled.

“The problem is, you can’t always be there to restrain him.”

“I know that, but—” Ron grit his teeth to cut himself off again. He felt almost compelled to speak.

“And while your loyalty is admirable, as an Auror you’d have to put the needs of your team and your government above your friend. Can you do that?”

Ron was about to snap back ‘probably not,’ when the realisation hit. He let out a bark of laughter and looked to the ceiling.

“Something funny?” Robards asked.

“You lot…” Ron said with another humourless laugh. “You’ve put something in my water and are trying to get a rise out of me. What is it, some sort of Veritaserum?”

“You’re not on—”

“I am,” Ron said surely. He could tell when he had been fucked with. It had happened enough times; the brains when he was sixteen, the love potion when he was seventeen, and then the locket… Add in Boggart dust and he’d had enough of it for a lifetime. His mind wasn’t entirely his to control.

The table mutely stared at him, but Musaad finally answered, “it’s a variant on Veritaserum. Makes you more suggestible to tell the truth, but leaves the speaker able to express themselves with full emotions, and able to hold back the truth if they are very inclined to do so. It’s less detectable than normal truth serum and less unethical as—”

“Less unethical?” Rons snorted. “You lot are nothing but unethical from where I’m sitting.”

“Oh?” Robards asked.

Ron could feel it— the need to tell the truth— the need to tell them off with everything he had. They said he could hold it back if he was very inclined to do so.

Too bad he had no inclination at all to hold back.

“This whole things has been needlessly fucked up. You didn’t properly check the place for dangers like the Boggart dust—”

“No one was in danger—” began Robards.

Ron had so many emotions going through his mind, it was hard to pick just one. He decided on livid.

“Mental stuff is dangerous, okay!?” growled Ron. “People’s heads being fucked with is dangerous! And you lot have done it every single exam.”

“As Musaad said, you can hold back what you want to say if you’re so inclined,” said Robards, jaw clenched.

“I’m not, but thanks for that reminder,” Ron said with a shake of his head. “Do you have more questions for me, or can I go?”

Robards gave a supremely displeased look.

“Do you even want to be an Auror?”

“After seeing how you treat recruits? Not really,” Ron curtly replied.

“In that case, do you have any final questions for us?”

Ron thought and stared at the floor before letting his eyes meet theirs.

“I’ve known three great Aurors in my lifetime, and they were all in the Order. Where were you lot? Why didn’t Dumbledore trust you? Were you even helping fight in the war?”

They stonily stared at him, except Musaad who looked away.

“There were many ways to help in this war,” Robards quietly said. He had a glower that should have made Ron nervous, but he didn’t care anymore.

“Right, well, I’ll take my Order of Merlin and shove it, shall I?” he said, rising from his chair. “How’s that for ‘rumblings?’”

“You haven’t been dismissed,” barked Robards.

“You saw what I can do. Either you think I’ll be good at this, or you don’t. I don’t reckon anything I say will change your mind for the better when I’m on truth serum-light. I’ve had enough of this. I’m off.”

Ron went to the door and realised he had no idea how to leave.

“I’ll escort you,” said Musaad, a wry grin on his bearded face.

Ron begrudgingly followed the man out the door, and pointedly ignored the barbed looks the rest of the table were giving him.

He’d utterly ruined his chances of being an Auror, but he felt strangely lighthearted about it. Theold had said he would get money for the Order of Merlin— that could cover his expenses along with his pub job until he could get employment he enjoyed and was proud of.

They were a few metres into the hall when Musaad let out a laugh. Ron stopped walking and stared at him.

He’d let his temper ruin his chances to be an Auror and now Musaad was mocking him. It felt like a most fitting end to a most imperfect day.

“And Robards thought you gave quite a show in the exams,” Musaad laughed. “I must say, Weasley, you’re one of the most interesting recruits I’ve ever met.”

“I’m on truth serum or whatever so you might want to shut up,” said Ron, fists beginning to clench.

“I am not trying to provoke you anymore,” said Musaad, putting his hands up.

“Okay…” Ron crossed his arms and looked down at Musaad. He’d seemed an intimidating figure, but Ron realised just how much smaller Musaad was than himself. “How was Harry, really?”

“I can’t reveal anything from his fourth exam, that’s confidential,” said Musaad, but he continued before Ron could protest. “Right before the exam it was reported to me that he was quite distraught. They sent someone in to check him over for any remaining spores of Boggart dust. He was able to gather himself after knowing Kevin Gunther was fine.”

It wasn’t fully relieving news, but it was better than not knowing anything.

“Thank you…” said Ron. He gave a forceful exhale through pursed lips. “Have I… Did I ruin my chances back there?”

“Oh you want to talk to me now?” asked Musaad.

“Might as well.” Ron shrugged and waited.

Musaad continued down the hall a few paces before he spoke. “Your performance in the first three exams was excellent. The only red flags we had for you were a wild case of insecurity, and you have a tinge of disrespect for authority. Nothing too major, especially given the circumstances… You were probably a shoe-in after exam three.”

“And now?”

“Well, Robards is a proud man… Deserves to be. He did quite a lot to help our side win this war, but from the inside. He has an impeccable record. And you chose to question it in front of his peers and throw your Order of Merlin in his face…”

“So I’m fucked,” Ron said, rubbing his left arm.

“Well, it’s hard to say how he’ll react. We are very hard up on recruits, and it doesn’t hurt that your best friend is one of the most politically powerful people in the Wizarding World. Potter was a bit of an upstart too.”

“He saved everyone’s arses. He deserves to be.”

Musaad nodded, holding Ron’s gaze. “One could argue you deserve to be too. We’re alive and able to interview you both because of the steps you took to end this war. That won’t be forgotten. And I won’t let your very fair reaction to our tests affect your chances if I can.”

“Do you have anything to do with this decision?” Ron asked, a tiny bit of hope scrambling its ways to the front of his mind.

“Yes. I do,” said Musaad before giving a laugh. “And despite how much you very obviously disdain me, I find I like you.”

Ron narrowed his eyes.

“I like what I saw in the field,” Musaad continued, not the least bit intimidated by Ron’s glare. “You’re the kind of person I would want beside me in a battle, and nothing you said in the interview convinced me otherwise. But, at the end of the day, I’m just one vote.”

He stopped walking, and looked Ron in the eyes.

“If this somehow doesn’t work out, feel free to contact me. I want to make sure you have a position somewhere for your skills. I could, perhaps, write a letter or talk to someone. That’s the least you deserve.”

Musaad put out a hand for him to shake, and despite everything, Ron found himself shaking it.

“You’ve got a good nose for tactics. It’s a pretty rare thing in someone so young. It’s been a privilege,” said Musaad, firmly shaking his hand before letting it go and leaving Ron in the locker room.

He changed, but the whole time he had unsure footing similar to when he’d just played a Quidditch game and finally landed on the ground. Everything felt slow and unsteady as he took each step and changed his clothes. The world around him felt like it was vibrating. The tensile pulse still rang in his ears, but he had no idea of where to move and nowhere to walk.

He felt the inexorable urge to run and run until he was far from this underground torture chamber.

He didn’t know if he even wanted to be an Auror anymore… But he didn’t want them telling him he couldn’t be one…

He wished he could say goodbye to the Recruits. He wished he knew how they all did on the exam. He wished to go home and check on Harry, to throw himself into Hermione’s waiting arms, and to maybe have some of his Mum’s cooking. He wished… He wished a lot of things, actually…

But most of all, he wished to sleep in his own bed and wake up not regretting a thing.

“Fat chance of that,” Ron mumbled to himself as he stumbled towards the lifts.

--------------------------------

author's note:

Thank you to everyone who reviews- you all really help motivate me and make me feel tied to other people. Sometimes it's hard to feel a sense of community in my life, but you really give that to me and it means so much!

Next chapter Hermione's POV again.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

A Dream Within a Dream

So, all of those drabbles that turned into a story? I have started to add them to Ao3. The first two chapters are posted, with editing and some small additions!

Summary:

They say the creation of everything started with Chaos. That amongst the nothingness, within its vast void was undifferentiated and indistinguishable. For Hermione, it started with a bang. A jolt to her heart that was so strong and violent that she felt it throughout her entire body, heard it in her ears like the deafening bang of a gong. Or In which Draco turns Hermione into a Horcrux.

[verybadatwriting]

A Strange Pair

Lestrange!ReaderXFred Weasley

Summary: Fred Weasly and Y/n Lestrange make things work, despite the familial differences

Warnings: Descriptions of reader’s hair, unsupportive parents, abusive parents, probably mentions of mass genocide, bad eating habits/food scarcity, nightmares, dislike of self (specifically hair)

Notes: Your dad in this story looks just like you do in real life, I just wanna make it abundantly clear that you look like you. IDK if I’m explaining it right. I tried to keep it gn, as usual.

Part 2

Gn!reader

Word count: 3,547

In all but two ways, you looked like your father. Same skin, eyes, everything. The two things that didn't line up, and that people always immediately noticed, was that you had your mother’s smile and her hair. Thick, curly, and quite untamable. Since your first year at Hogwarts, you’d been told both were too reminiscent of her.

Many people had serious grudges against your parents, especially your mother. That was completely understandable. You had never really liked her. Or maybe you loved her. Sometimes even you didn’t know. There were times when she was a monster, and others where she wasn’t quite loving, but better than the monster. It didn’t make sense, to you or to anyone else. 

Outsiders thought you would be just like her. A monster. Teachers included. All the (secretly) loyal Death Eaters thought you were too soft and not at all like the woman they’d fought alongside, and who had gained the Dark Lord’s attention. In your own family that was the sentiment. Not good enough. Too soft. Not Slytherin Enough.

When you were a toddler, you’d made the mistake of asking if she loved you.

“No.” She had replied simply, then elaborated, “You’re my flesh and bone. Even that’s not enough to make up for your nature. Additionally, love is a distraction. A distraction from the one thing that truly matters…” 

You’d run crying to your father, who simply told you that’s the way she was. That was the last time you cried. Later that day, you were sitting with your aunt Narssissa and her newborn son. As you listened to her baby-talk to him, you started to resent your mother. You once overheard her say she expected you to be one of the small burned marks on the Black Family Tree. 

That resent didn’t pass during the war, or your parent’s sentencing for the torture of the Longbottoms, it only grew. For four years you lived with the Malfoys. Draco saw you as an older sibling, and you saw him as a tragically misguided child. In those four years you became disillusioned with the Death Eaters, mainly after more research into the attack on the Longbottoms. 

During your first two years at Hogwarts you befriended the Weasley twins, who were in the same year as you. Fred liked you and vice versa, and by your fifth year you were a couple. His mom didn’t approve, and you doubted your mother would either. You didn’t care, nor did he.

The outside observer couldn't fathom why you were together, you seemed like complete opposites. He was the life of the party, from a big family that fought on the right side of the war. In fact, the only thing you seemed to have in common was the nack for getting into trouble, especially with that wretched new pink-clad teacher. Umbridge.

You knew of the twin’s plan to set off fireworks and start a shop. The night before they enacted it, you and Fred were cuddled up on a couch in the Gryffindor common room, late at night. George sat across from you two.

“And then we’ll make our grand exit!” Fred said.

“Along with dropping fliers for our store.” George said.

“I think that Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes will be the most popular shop in Diagon Alley.” You said.

“At least among trouble-making youngsters.” George added. You three chuckled for a moment.

“Where are you going for the holidays?” You asked.

“We’ll probably stop by our mum’s house.” Fred said, “Unless she completely flips out about us deserting school and disowns us.” He realized what he’d said and sucked in a quick breath. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You said, “I don't think your mom would do something like that. Setting off a few hundred fireworks and leaving school isn’t the worst thing you two have done.” 

The twins laughed, and made sure not to be too loud. You were not supposed to be in their common room and someone finding out about the three of you meeting would have had disastrous consequences.

Around midnight George turned in for the night, and advised you and Fred to do the same.

“We will.” Fred said, “Just a few more minutes.” George went up the stairs, leaving Fred and you curled up on the couch together. After a few moments of silence, you spoke.

“If you and George want to stop by over Christmas…” You said, “Here’s where to find me.” You pulled away slightly to scribble down an address on a slip of paper and handed it to him along with an envelope with a key in it.

“It’s not the biggest apartment, but there’s enough room for three.”

“Thanks, love.” He kissed the crown of your head, “We really should get to bed, George and I need to be rested up.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Freddie.” You said.

“I will too.” He echoed, “Now that I have this,” He waved the slip of paper, “We’ll be seeing eachother often.”

The next few months flew by, like the twins had flown from Umbridge. You kept your head down at Hogwarts, and worked hard. Fred and George often sent letters, and you sent many as well. Over the summer, the letters were filled with invitations to visit them. Sadly, you had to decline. You were working your butt off to keep your apartment. Rent had gone up drastically.

You and your cat lived in an apartment in the Muggle side of London over the breaks. It was pretty nice, although strangely shaped. The entryway had a bedroom on the right, then it opened into a kitchen/living/dining room with windows. If you continued going forward from the door, the wall curved to the right ever so slightly, the bathroom’s on your left, and at the end of the hall is a second, smaller, bedroom.

It was always empty. It had furniture, chairs, beds, and such. All you brought with you each visit was a single suitcase enchanted against water, fire, and anything else you and Dumbledore could think of. That contained all your documents, money, a few prized possessions, and photos.

You had to save up enough to send rent while you were at Hogwarts, so that you could move back in during the breaks. All summer you worked tirelessly. Fred’s letters were what kept you going.

A lonely school year started in September 1996. After what felt like an eternity of studying and ignoring Umbridge, Winter Break finally rolled around. You briefly made eye contact with Mrs. Weasley on Platform 9 ¾. She glared at you, and you continued on your way.

You went home to your apartment, with arrangements to start work the next day. All you could do was head to bed. The next morning you woke up at five thirty to get to work. By six you were out the door. 

Six to six forty was commuting. Very different from Hogwarts, where you often didn’t have to leave the building. Crammed into the Tube, you didn’t even get a seat. After a hellish morning commute you got to the cheap chain restaurant you worked at every break.

Over your lunch break your boss pulled you aside.

“Hi Y/n.” He said, “It’s lovely to have you back, such a hard worker… Anyway! We’re cutting your hours.”

“What.” You said.

“We’ve learned to manage well enough without you.”

“Sir, we had an agreement.”

“I know…” He said, “Things change, plus we never signed anything official. I can still get you some hours, but they’ll be at odd times. Not enough people are signed up for the midnight to seven for tomorrow. I can get you that shift for sure and you’ll get at least seven hours a day.”

Somehow managing to not flip out at your manager, you politely nodded.

“Does today’s shift have the usual times?”

“Yes, you’ll get off at four.” He said, “Speaking of which, get to work.”

 

Hours later, after changing out of your slightly greasy uniform and folding it in the bottom of your bag, you left work to do two things. Get food for the week, and see if there was any way to make some more money. If you only got seven hours going forward there was no way you’d be able to keep the apartment.

Six pm rolled around and you walked into your apartment. You’d had no luck with getting a second job, especially since your availability during the school year was nonexistent. You did pick up a few packs of instant noodles and some cat food. At least your pet would be happy.

Turning the handle, your cat acknowledged you by lifting her head.

“Thanks for the warm welcome.” You said, “I brought dinner for you. It looks like it’s just us. Again.” You opened the food and plonked a bit in her bowl. While she ate, you thought about making a packet of the noodles, and decided against it. 

For all his failings, your manager was always alright with the workers sneaking a sandwich every now and then. You’d just eat in six hours when you got to work. That would have to do. You crawled into bed to sleep for a few hours.

Something woke you up. It was the sound of someone trying to navigate somewhere without being too loud. There was a knock at your bedroom door.

“Hey? Y/n?” A familiar voice said.

“What if we have the wrong house?” Said another.

“Then the key wouldn’t have worked, George.” Said Fred, “I thought my twin would be a bit smarter. Honestly.”

“Freddie?” You asked, opening the door.

“The one and only.” The two of you embraced in a kiss and stayed like that for a moment. Then you heard George bumbling around in the kitchen.

“Oh Merlin.” You sighed, “What on earth is your brother doing?”

“I don’t know.” Fred said, “Do we want to go find out?”

Turns out he was cooking. 

“Hi Y/n!” He said, “I’m making dinner. This fellow,” He motioned to Fred, “Was so set on getting here as soon as possible that he didn’t let us stop to eat! I’m making some for you too.”

“Oh George.” You said, “It’s fine, I’ll eat when I go to work.”

“That’s hours away!” He protested. “Do you just not like my cooking?”

“Fine.” You said, jokingly angry. “I’ll join you, but I’ve got to get to bed soon.”

“Why?” Fred teased, “Got a hot date?”

“No!” You guffawed, “I got the late shift at work. It starts at midnight.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, love.” He said.

“Y/n,” George said, “I suggest you get some rest. It’s nearly ten thirty right now and, with all due respect, you need some sleep.”

“Jeez, I look that bad?” You chuckled.

“Georgie,” Fred said, “I’m gonna go make sure they actually sleep.” He slung his arm around your shoulder. A few moments later, you were snuggled in bed together. He was the big spoon, and had one arm looped around your waist while the other served as a pillow. Silence settled for a while.

“Your hair’s in my mouth.” He said. This happened a lot when you were the little spoon. Another reason to hate your hair. You adjusted a little and that fixed it. As Fred was drifting off to sleep, he murmured something.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Freddie.”

Eleven thirty came about, and your alarm woke you up. Quietly, you tried to remove Fred’s arm and slip away without waking him up. You were unsuccessful. 

“Hmm?” He tightened his arm, “What’s going on?”

“I’m just going to work,” You yawned, exhausted.

“Do you have to?”

“Yes,” You replied, still gently trying to move his arm. “It’s how I can afford to keep this apartment.”

“Do you have to?”

“Do I have to keep my apartment?”

“Yeah.” He sleepily nodded.

“Fred,” You sighed, “It’s where I live.”

“I know, but that could change.”

“Where else would I go?”

“George and I have an apartment, a lot like this one, right above our shop.” He said, “There’s only two beds, but personally, I wouldn’t mind sharing with you.” You thought for a moment, not quite sure if this was the ramblings of a sleepyhead who wanted more cuddles, or if Fred was serious.

“Well.” You said, “My boss will wonder where I am.”

“Just call and say you’re sick.” He yawned, “Or say there’s a family emergency.”

“I suppose that could work. Either way, I have to get out of bed.” Reluctantly, Fred lifted his arm. Within minutes you were back, and snuggled next to him again.

Fred awoke to you suddenly sitting bolt-upright, soaked in sweat and looking really shaken up. He sat up next to you, and slowly took your hands in his.

“Hey Y/n.” He said, “You’re okay. You’re safe.” Your initial instinct was to pull away, until the more rational side of your brain took over and you remembered that Fred wasn’t a threat. 

“It’s okay,” He repeated, “Can you take some deep breaths, love? There you go. Good job.” You leaned onto him, relieved to have some form of comfort.

“Do you wanna talk about it, or lie back down?” He asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” You whispered.

“That’s alright.” He soothed, “We can stay like this.” And you did. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you until you were ready to talk about the nightmare.

“It was… Well not quite a flashback,” You said, “I was there again. The cold walls. The firelight. Everything was the exact same…” You trailed off.

“Same as when?” Fred asked.

“Same as it was the first time.” You replied. This only slightly confused Fred, you had mentioned the ‘times’ a whole lot, although you never went into detail. This time, you told him all of it.

“I was an infant.” You continued, “Crying simply because that’s what babies do. That demon – my mother – used Crucio on me.” 

Fred sucked in an involuntary sharp breath.

“I eventually learned to stop crying. For good.”

“Oh God…” Fred said, “Y/n. I’m…” He trailed off and hoped his message would get through as he pressed a kiss to your head. 

“Thanks.” You said, “Let’s lie down now.”

“Of course.”

You awoke late in the morning. At first you panicked, thinking you’d drastically overslept, but then you felt Fred next to you and remembered it was alright. George was cooking breakfast, and when he heard the two of you waking up he poked his head in.

“Morning love birds,” He said, “What do you want to eat?”

“Uh,” You said, “I don’t have anything here. Just a few instant ramen packets.”

“Psh,” George said, “Silly of you to assume we didn’t bring food. I suggest you have pancakes, there’s some from the first batch on the table.” He left the room.

Throughout the day Fred insisted you relax. You found out he was completely serious about inviting you to live with them. In the afternoon, you contacted your boss to say you were moving. He threw a hissy fit because you gave such short notice.

“Well, sir,” You replied, “You seemed to be getting along just fine without me. I had the option to completely ghost you and never speak to you again. I’ll be there to return my uniform later today.” And then hung up the phone. 

“Freddie?” You said, “I need to make a quick run to work and drop off my uniform, wanna come?”

“Of course.” He said, “Is George joining us?”

“Only if he wants.”

The three of you walked down to the nearest Tube station. You bought the twins their own cards, and showed them how they worked. Unlike your usual commutes, this Tube trip was enjoyable. Fred and George were amazed at the underground trains, and how scanning a flimsy piece of paper caused the turnstiles to open. 

That night you called the Knight Bus to get to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. On the ride you discussed their plans for Christmas. Their mom had invited them over Christmas Day. The only reason they weren’t there right now is because they were waiting for a reply. 

“Why do you need a reply from her?” You asked, “You’ve already been invited.”

“I wanted to know if you could come with us.” Fred said. “I expect there’s a letter waiting patiently for us back home.” 

Sure enough, there was a letter carefully slid underneath the door. It was from Mrs. Weasley, who begrudgingly extended the invitation to you.

‘If it is necessary for the Lestrange child to come too, I suppose it’s alright.’ She went on to threaten you with bodily harm if you stepped a foot out of line. After reading the letter, Fred lead you to his room. Or rather, your shared room. 

He showed you an empty bureau you could put your stuff in. To his surprise, you only had two extra shirts and pants. It didn’t even fill a single drawer. Later that evening, the three of you used the floo network to travel to the Burrow. 

Polite conversation filled the rooms. Mr. Weasley was very interested in the Muggle world, and was thoroughly enjoying listening to you, Fred, and George explain the underground train system. He had many questions, which bored his wife and helped her lose her death-glare at you. 

Over the course of a few hours she interacted with you once or twice, mainly saying things like ‘excuse me’ when she passed you in a narrow hallway. She did see you and Fred sitting together on the couch, and once again glowered in your direction.

“The way you two flirt is shameful.” She muttered, just loud enough for you and Fred to hear. In reply he simply wrapped an arm around your shoulders and continued the conversation like nothing had happened.

You met a woman named Nymphadora, who insisted everyone call her Tonks. The conversation started when she commented on your hair. With more than a little shame, you told her it was from your mother’s side of the family. It turned out you and her were cousins, although her mother was disowned.

“Oh that’s fun.” You said, “I’m disowned too!” Both of you laughed about it. 

“Yeah, that family really sucks.” Tonks said.

“Tell me about it.” You replied. Eventually the time came, and you went to bed. Through the thin walls you heard Mrs. Weasley fighting with Fred. Muffled voices attacking and defending you.

“I want that demon-spawn out of my house!”

A quiet reply.

“Well go and live with them then! See what I care.”

Fred replied again, just barely audible this time.

“But I love them.”

In the morning Mrs. Weasley looked more pissed than ever that you had the audacity to exist. Despite this, she made Christmas wonderful for everyone. The food was delicious, the spirit was there, blocking out the troubles of the outside world, if only for a little bit.

Evening fell. The next morning you would head back to the twin’s shop, just a few more hours without angering Mrs. Weasley any more and you’d be in the clear. Right as Tonks and Remus were saying their goodnights, a ball of fire rained down from the sky! Your cackling mother appeared out of a cloud of black smoke and the fire encircled the Burrow. As quick as she’d come, she disappeared over the wall of fire.

Harry tried to sprint after her, but you shoved past him. You thrust yourself through the fire, weapons drawn, and slung a knife at your mother’s shoulder. It hit with a sickening ‘thunk.’

“Your aim’s improved.” She said, withdrawing the knife and throwing it back, aiming for your torso. You nimbly caught it. 

“What’s wrong?” She teased, “Not happy to see Mummy?” You chucked another knife at her, this time she caught it midair.

“I see. Giving me the silent treatment.” She nodded. 

“Shut up.” You said, as you chased her further into the tall grass.

“Are you sure you want to stay here and play with me?” She asked, “Don’t you want to make sure your friends are okay? Fenrir sometimes plays a little rough…”

“I said shut up.” You lunged at her, and managed to get in a few good blows before she slashed you across the cheek and rolled to her feet.

“Any particular reason you’re not using magic?” Bellatrix questioned, “I always suspected you were a filthy squi-” At that moment, a jet of flame erupted into the air from the Burrow, and she used your distraction to escape, her cackles ringing in the air.

You rushed back towards the fire, only to see the whole group standing outside the now-burning Burrow. A heartbeat passed as everyone watched the blazing house, then Mrs. Weasley turned to you.

“You.” She spat, “You lead them to us. You are just like your mother. Sick! Get out. Now! Leave!” Molly was near hysterics, her husband was barely able to hold her back from attacking you. 

“Bye Freddie, I’ll see you at home.” You tossed a handful of Floo powder onto the burning Burrow and stepped in. The last word was directed at both Fred, and the fire. A whirlwind of green and you were back in the attic of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. 

“I guess this is home now.”

[celestialseawitch-ff]

🌹

Hermione couldn’t meet their eyes. It finally clicked in her mind, what she was feeling. The cold. The ice in her chest. Her eyes grew in horror. She hadn’t felt this unrelenting cold in three years. 

Ron turned to Harry. “How do we get home?” he demanded.

Hermione slowly lowered herself to knees as she began to cry.

“Hermione?”

“Hermione!”

Harry and Ron were crouched down by her. Their hands felt burning hot on her shoulders.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Harry pleaded.

“I- I can feel him,” she cried.

Harry paled. Ron stood and stormed away as he released a stream of curses. Hermione felt her tears begin to overwhelm her.

“No, no, no- Hermione.” Harry cupped her face in his hands. He pressed close until all she could see was the bright emerald green of his eyes. “Listen to me, stay with me. You’re okay. I’m right here. You can feel it right, feel my magic?”

Hermione sobbed as she nodded. She could always feel Harry’s magic. It smelled like wind and sage, and had the uncanny ability to wind around her in the softest, most beautiful way.

“Focus on me, love. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Mummy?” Teddy cried and pressed his face into her neck, clearly upset by her distress.

Hermione’s expression broke. Harry pressed a kiss to her forehead and Hermione felt his magic wind around her like a blanket, stronger and tighter than ever before.

She gasped in a shuddering breath.

“You need to block it out,” he whispered against her skin. “Just like Snape taught you. Block it out.”

“I can’t- he’s too strong.”

“You can. For Teddy, ‘Mione. Do it for Teddy.”

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as she cried. She forced herself to build up her occlumency walls. She hadn’t been strong enough when she was younger, but some sort of unknown magical protection had always kept her safe in the past. Whatever magic had been cast over her as a baby to hide her from her birth father had failed after their accidental time travel.

Hermione breathed in deeply and released it slowly. She felt her emotions settle. The ice thawed in her chest. The cold remained – as it always would while another was alive in her family magic. But it no longer consumed her as it had before.

Hermione opened her eyes.

“Okay?”

She nodded. “It won’t last.”

“No. But we’ll be gone before that happens.”

She shook her head.

Harry stared into her eyes. She could see the frustration in the furrow of his brow and the press of his lips. She saw the thoughts racing through his mind as if she were using legilimency.  Maybe she was a bit, she tended to slip up around him – especially when she was upset. He was remembering their time travel trip in third year, the things she’d told him about it.

“Time-turners are circular paradoxes,” he said.

“Normal time-turners,” she responded with a sniffle.

“And the one we used?”

“Red and gold. I’ve never seen a time-turner with red sand. I don’t know what that means, but… it activated without me turning it. And none of us were wearing it. And it’s gone now.” She held up her hand with the little crumpled note inside. “The note came with us but not the time turner.”

“Is it back in the… future?” Ron wondered, having come back to them again.

Harry slowly shook his head. “No, I think it exploded.”

Hermione’s brows drew together as she stared at Harry. “It activated when you brushed past. I think your… magical aura might have activated it.”

Ron made a face. “Harry’s magical aura is bigger than that.”

“But it’s concentrated closer on,” Hermione insisted.

“I didn’t do this,” Harry snapped.

“No,” Hermione agreed in a soothing voice as she gently rubbed circles into Teddy's back. “No, Harry, not on purpose. But if whoever sent this wanted this to happen, maybe it wasn’t just sent to me.”

“Keyed to Harry’s magic?” Ron wondered.

Hermione nodded.

[imagrindylow]

Duplicity - Chapter Index

Past Sebastian Sallow / Reader; Unrequited Ominis Gaunt / Reader; Endgame Garreth Weasley / Reader Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort - 24,847 Words (Individual chapters list other warnings.) After your long term relationship with Sebastian Sallow ends, you're left to lean on your friends for support. While you try to move on and find happiness again, you come to realize that not all of the friends helping you actually have your best interests in mind.

Chapter 1 - The Breakup Your relationship with Sebastian has come to an end and you need a shoulder to cry on, and a new date to the upcoming ball.

Chapter 2 - Options You prepare for the ball and get some good gossip in with the other girls.

Chapter 3 - The Ball It's time for the ball, you spend time with your friends, do a lot of dancing, and deal with someone trying to ruin your evening.

Chapter 4 - Taking Care Your date to the ball ends up drinking way too much, leaving you in a position where you feel you need to take care of them.

Chapter 5 - Intentions This chapter is a re-telling of Chapter 4, but from another point of view.

Chapter 6 - Breakfast After a night of heavy drinking, your date doesn't seem to remember much of what happened. a friend confronts them for being a shitty date.

Chapter 7 - The Confession Your date's guilt is eating at him for what he was devising the night of the ball, and he decides to come clean to you.

Chapter 8 - Apologies One by one, those around you come to apologize for their individual roles in the drama you're currently wrapped up in.

Chapter 9 - Girl's Night You and Imelda have a much needed girls night out, and she helps you work up the confidence to tell your crush how you feel.

Chapter 10 - Feelings You finally tell your crush how you feel about him.

Chapter 11 - Together You and your crush talk things out a bit more and take the next steps in your friendship.

Chapter 12 - Future You and your boyfriend go over your exam results together, celebrate the last day of term with your friends, and prepare for your future.