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whompingwillowy · 1 year
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flower(y) | a hinny microfic
@hinnymicrofic day 10 | prompt: flower
‘So.’
‘…so - ’
‘That was - ’
‘ - sorry it was - y’know - in front of everyone - ’
‘Be fair, not quite everyone. Just all our mates, my ex, my brother - the girl who drugged my brother - ’
‘I know - sorry - it’s just - you were right there - ’
‘Don’t be sorry. I’m not sorry. Are you sorry?’
‘No. Not at all.’
‘So - do you - shit, I’m still in my kit, I probably smell - ’
‘You don’t. Smell, I mean. I mean, you just smell like you.’
‘- I beg your pardon?’
‘You know. Sort of - flowery.’
‘I smell flowery?’
‘Yeah. I mean. I don’t know. You smell - nice, you always smell nice.’
‘I always smell nice - ?’
‘ - there's an echo in here - ’
‘Er, you do not get to take the piss, Potter, not when you apparently know what I smell like - ’
‘That’s weird, isn’t it. Sorry. Sorry, I’m bad at this - I'll get better - ’
‘I’m pulling your leg, you muppet. Will you stop saying sorry? You don’t need to be sorry, it’s me.’
Two dumb big grins behind a tapestry in a deserted corridor, faces on fire, hearts going the same way. She’s taking his hand, she's here, it’s real, this is real. Yeah, he thinks, it’s you.
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whompingwillowy · 1 year
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90s teens, Hermione, Ginny and Luna.
Love how this one turned out! 👽
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whompingwillowy · 1 year
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I know it's often debated how powerful Harry is meant to be (aVeRaGe vs ExTraOP) - but I just finished reading Goblet of Fire, where both Barty Crouch Jnr (implied to have struggled with this for years) and Barty Crouch Snr struggle with their Imperius curses (for months, and he is still struggling with it when Harry meets him in the forest).
And yet, Harry throws it off the first time someone tries it on him. And if the spell's strength lies in the power of the caster, Harry throws it off when Voldemort casts it on him. It's not something the book draws attention to as much, but this little feral boy is a force.
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whompingwillowy · 2 years
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harry potter and the goblet of fire (2005) dir. mike newell
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whompingwillowy · 2 years
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Unbearable
[charlie weasley x hermione granger] ▪️ summary: charlie has always had a thing for her, but this was a new low, even for him... but what if he had a chance to help her out? Would he take it, even if he knew it would be torture? ▪️ warnings: charlie has a panic attack. ▪️ words: 3.6k+
Part 1
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He paced back and forth in front of his parents’ fireplace, loosened his cravat, and groaned. The ceremony was due to begin any minute, not to mention that he was supposed to stand up beside his brothers! But how could he? How could he stand up there and pretend to be perfectly calm when she was there?
Of course, she’s there. She had always been one of Ron’s closest friends… and that was the problem. Always leading Harry and Ron around, always invited to Weasley events. He just couldn’t manage to avoid her. Going to Romania on assignment? Only made him miss her laugh. Her appointment to the Magizoology department of the Ministry made his infatuation unbearable, stoked by the fact that she actually oversaw approval for his projects. They spoke several times a week, and she often visited the Sanctuary. And why did her face have to pop up in the Prophet all the time? Ridiculous. He wrung his hands.
It was just a stupid crush from childhood--well, her late teens, and Charlie’s early twenties. Which made it all the worse! It was so innocent! And because he had always admired her from afar, especially during her courtship with Ron, he never could squash the feelings.
But he normally behaved with professionalism… until the crush started getting to him, just listening to her--when she talked about how much she loved her work, what new book she had discovered, what flowers were growing in her garden… when she got agitated over conditions for the animals in her care. Hermione was vibrant and he could not get away from her. Thus, he had no choice but to panic, in his best robes, on this, the day of his youngest brother’s wedding. Charlie knelt down and braced a hand on the stones.
This is pathetic , he thought. She’s just a girl--woman. A woman! Just a woman. And you, Charles Gideon Weasley, are a man. You’re allowed to admire a woman without being consumed by her. You enjoy her presence! You may have had one or two naughty dreams--but you never acted on them! You do not have to lose your mind--
The patio door slid open. “Are you alright? Gads, Charlie.”
He froze. He pressed his eyes shut. If he didn’t move, maybe she’d go away… a small hand grazed his shoulder.
“Charlie?” Hermione said, more forcefully. “Come with me, you look pale! ”
“I am p-pale,” he stuttered. Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him into the kitchen, where she shut the door and then pushed him to sit. He did so, with his head in his hands.
“Not your normal ginger pallor, smartypants,” she said. He looked up at the ceiling in utter exasperation. Hermione pushed gently on the back of his head. “Just lay your head down.”
Charlie pressed his eyes so tightly together that lights began to dance behind his eyelids. He breathed slowly in through his mouth and held it, hoping to suffocate. To no avail; Hermione’s soft hand on the back of his neck, pulling his hair back, made him blow out suddenly.
“What’s got you so riled up?” she asked softly. She kneaded the nape of his neck with her knuckles. Charlie’s toes curled up in his boots.
“Nothing,” he murmured. He almost choked when her thumb brushed his cheek.
“I don’t believe you,” she sighed. “You’re panicking. Tell me why?” She sat beside him on the bench and rubbed his back between his shoulder blades. Charlie didn’t dare look at her or he thought he might vomit.
“There’s someone...” he breathed, pushing his fingertips into his temples.
“Someone you want to avoid?” she finished for him. Charlie nodded. “Oh, bollocks. I’m so sorry. Does Ronald know that this person bothers you?”
Charlie shook his head. “He hasn’t the faintest idea.”
“Why didn’t you tell him so they wouldn’t be invited?”
He scoffed. “That wouldn’t have happened,” Charlie said. “They’re important…” To absolutely everyone, including him, Merlin be damned.
“I see,” she said. “Then you’re sort of stuck, aren’t you?” She rubbed his shoulder and then pulled one of his hands from his face. “Can I confide something?” she asked, squeezing his hand. Charlie’s hand spasmed in hers and she held it fast. Charlie nodded, looking down at their clasped hands. She was always so touchy… always hugging him and touching his arm, taking his hand. He’d long since given up on not flinching.
“I dreaded coming,” she said quickly. “Lavender is the one he went for right after we broke up. And I sort of… became okay with that because I deluded myself into thinking she was just a rebound and that it wouldn’t last. That he wouldn’t find someone before I did, let alone… you know. Marry her. So.” She sniffed, brushing away a single tear before it could find purchase on her cheek. Charlie pressed his eyes shut at the thought of her being in pain and covered their clasped hands with his free one. “I’ll be fine once things get rolling,” she said brightly. She laughed, despite herself. “Honestly, I think my heart is going to be just fine. But I’m kind of… jealous that he did it first. Is that pathetic?”
Charlie sighed. He dared a glance up at her. Her eyes were tracing freckles on the back of his hand and she smiled. “No. At least you didn’t have a panic attack.”
“I sort of did… s’why I came inside, and then--”
“Me.”
“You,” she agreed. “Thanks for that.”
His brow furrowed. “For having a breakdown minutes before my brother’s wedding?”
“For distracting me,” she said sweetly. She brushed his hair off his shoulder absent-mindedly. “Weird idea. Don’t know if you’d even be into it…”
Charlie internally rolled his eyes. He would streak stark naked through the ceremony if it would help. And then die of embarrassment. Both of their problems would be solved! “Shoot.”
“Partners in crime for the night?” she suggested. “I could use your stoic solidarity in my corner and I think maybe you could use a distraction. Just… sit next to me, dance with me, keep my wine glass full… help distract your old friend.”
You mean torture himself the entire night merely with her closeness, all the while anticipating touching her skin, basking in her laughter, being ravished by her wit… it would be his utter detriment and pleasure. To pretend that, for one night, he was the only person that mattered to her.
“You and me. We’re the only people who matter out there.” She squeezed his hand once more.
“I would be in idiot not to accept,” he said firmly, utterly melting into his seat at the sight of the grin that overtook her face.
“Marvelous!” She released his hand and clapped in excitement. “One condition, however.”
He was half in love with her, already, so what limit could she possibly put on him? “I promise not to vomit on your shoes.”
She laughed. “Thank Merlin. Just… walk me to my seat? It’s going to be very hard for me to walk down that aisle… given everything.”
He sighed. “You can do this.”
“So can you,” she smiled. She pushed up from the table and held out her hands to him. “Look at me like you enjoy my company, all right?” She meant it as a rib but it busted Charlie’s wall down. He shook his head and allowed himself to actually take her in. She had asked him to, hadn’t she?
Hermione was wearing a burgundy velvet gown, which fell off her shoulders and hugged her body until the skirt swirled around her feet. Autumnal goddess , he thought. Her hair was pulled up off her neck so the curls could balance in a halo around a starburst tiara. She had been spending time with Narcissa Malfoy in her research on Transylvanian Selkies and the influence was obvious. So was her disdain for the theme of the event, which was Pastel Faerie Dreamland. He smiled when he realized that her earrings were shaped like tiny golden skulls.
She blushed under his studious gaze. “All right, all right. Save it for the stage,” she said, pulling him out of the kitchen.
Molly was speaking to Ginny in the living room, in frantic and hushed tones. “Oh!” Molly shrieked. “There you are, dears! Charlie, your brother needs you upstairs.”
Charlie’s eyebrows could not have climbed higher into his hairline. “Shouldn’t Ron be in the garden by now?” he asked.
“Idiot’s drunk,” Ginny sighed. “I don’t have any Pepper-Up on me and Mum and Dad don’t drink anymore, so... “
“So?” Charlie scoffed. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” Hermione practically wrenched his arm off pulling him up the stairs. “We’ll have him down in five minutes, Molly!” She called. She held her skirts in her free hand and they climbed quickly to the third-floor bathroom, from which Ron was wailing a vaguely Irish-sounding Quidditch chant. “At least you can delay your torture a bit longer,” she said to Charlie, knocking on the bathroom door.
If only, he thought. His hand was sweating in hers.
“Ronald? Can we come in?” she said, opening the door a crack. The groom was prostrate on the rug in his powder-blue dress robes, sans trousers, cuddling a bottle of Firewhiskey, and singing to beat the band.
“Odin’s left one,” Charlie breathed. He let go of Hermione’s hand and knelt down beside the keening fellow. “Ron, you’re blasted, mate.” His brother looked up at him and a massive smile broke out on his face. Then, he realized that Hermione was standing behind Charlie and his face fell into a twisted grimace.
“Can’t see the Bride... before the wedding! I mean… I mean she can’t see me like this,” Ron said, covering his face.
“I can go,” she said, thumbing out the door. Charlie nodded. Hermione closed the door behind herself and leaned against the door frame, keeping a watchful eye for any second cousin who might be a bit too nosy.
Ron pushed himself up to sit with Charlie’s help. “What brought this on?” Charlie asked.
“Lav and I fought this morning,” Ron said softly. “ Why’d you even invite Hermione? Why does she have to come to everything? She hates me. Blah blah blah. She can’t get over it, Char.”
“I know the feeling,” Charlie murmured. “What did you tell her?”
“I love her. She’s my best friend. How could I get married without her?” Ron rubbed his eyes.
“I bet Lavender didn’t like that.”
“Well, too bad!” Ron exclaimed. “If she can’t… accept that ‘Mione s’part of my life…”
“Ron, it sounds like Lavender is just nervous to get married. Hermione is your ex-girlfriend. It is only natural for Lavender to feel self-conscious about her coming, but it’s up to you to help reassure her,” Charlie said.
“I don’t even know if I want to marry her,” Ron said, pouting. He hugged the bottle like a teddy bear. “Should’ve married Hermione instead.”
Charlie’s heart dropped into his shoes. Undoubtedly, Hermione was listening on the other side of the door, which meant that his hopes were dashed forever. He sighed. “Ron, why did you break up with Hermione in the first place?”
Ron seemed to consider this much longer than necessary, but he shrugged. “No spark. She’s so brilliant and I am an acorn. Tired of feeling like an acorn. She didn’t really want me, but she didn’t want to let me down… and that’s worse than feeling like an acorn, Char. Nobody should be with somebody because of pity.”
“And why did you decide to propose to Lavender?” Charlie asked, gently taking the bottle from Ron’s grasp and taking a swig of the liquor himself.
Ron’s face lit up. “She’s cute as a button. She laughs at my jokes. Everything is exciting and new to her. Even fountains. Dumb fountains! She thinks they’re so great. I love her like she loves fountains.” Ron hiccoughed. “Love ‘Mione too, but like… Ginny. But nicer.”
Charlie chuckled. “You want to be with Lavender. That’s why you proposed.”
“I want to be with her!” Ron grabbed Charlie’s arm in a vice grip. “That’s why I proposed!”
“It’s why you proposed!”
“It is! Oh,” Ron sighed. “You should be a therapist.”
A knock sounded on the door. “Yes?” Charlie answered.
“It’s Lavender,” the fiancee in question spoke. “Could I speak to Ron, please?”
Charlie looked at Ron for his approval and Ron nodded frantically. “Come in but I can’t look at you, Lav-Lav!” Ron called, drunkenly. He clasped a hand over his eyes. The doorknob turned slowly and Lavender’s tear-stained face peeked around the doorway. Charlie beckoned to her to take his spot on the floor. Charlie left his brother to his conference and shut the door.
To his surprise, Hermione was standing across the hallway in Ron’s room, leaning against his desk and smiling. She beckoned Charlie over to her. “She and I cleared the air,” she said simply, softly, as soon as Charlie was within arm’s reach. She held out a hand to him.
“Ron's a mess, eh?” Charlie asked. He set his hand in her outstretched palm hesitantly. She shook her head.
“I wasn't listening. I’ve done my fair share of eaves-dropping with that boy and it never ends well,” she laughed sadly. “I just realized that I don’t want to go on like this forever; hating being around them, but feeling obligated to attend every Weasley function, never ever getting peace. What a waste, when I could be enjoying myself.”
“So… you retrieved Lavender?”
“She was wondering why the ceremony was delayed… the opportunity presented itself.” She shrugged. Charlie studied her face. She was placid.
“Was it hard?” He squeezed her hand when she nodded. “Do you feel better?”
“Might do with a drink,” she said quietly. “But we still have our agreement to uphold for the evening, so I’m expecting you to make certain I have a glass as soon as the ceremony is over. I am assured it will be short.”
“You’re lucky that we’re not Catholic.”
Hermione laughed. The door to the bathroom swung open and Lavender exited, alone. She leaned into Ron’s room and smiled at the two of them. “He’s ready. Make sure he has trousers on when he comes down?”
“Will do,” Charlie confirmed. The bride escaped back down the stairs and Ron appeared, pulled together and seemingly sober. He tightened his own cravat and blushed.
“Uh… could I have the room? I have to put my trousers on,” Ron said.
“Everything all right?” Hermione asked.
“Never better.” He smiled at her and glanced at their clasped hands, their closeness. “I could change somewhere else if you two need the room--”
“We were waiting for you, together,” Charlie said, too quickly. “Concerned as we are for your well-being. But now, we can see that you are well so we will leave you alone. Sorry for bothering you, mate! We’ll just go downstairs.” Charlie could feel the flush creeping up his neck and his hands were clammy as Hermione led him from the bedroom. As soon as Ron’s bedroom door closed, they released each other’s hands and stood on opposite sides of the corridor. Hermione smoothed her gown, while Charlie stared at her feet.
“Well done, then,” she said, finally.
“Shall we go down?” he suggested.
“Let’s.”
They took the stairs together, not touching but feet reaching the same step at the same time… every time. It became amusing by the last step--Charlie jumped down first and Hermione remained on the last stair, pleased to be at eye-level with him.
“Here,” she gestured for him to come back to her. “Let me fix your cravat.” Charlie stepped closer to her again. Hermione went to work on tying the scarf just so . She smoothed the shoulders of his robes once she was finished. “Very handsome,” she said, absent-mindedly. When she realized what she had said, she blushed, but she raised an eyebrow and dared him to take the compliment. Charlie made a move as if to loosen his tie again and she grabbed his hand to stop him. “You tosser,” she laughed. “Keep it tied until photos are done, at least.”
He held out his arm to her and she curled her hand into the crook of his elbow. “This look of yours,” he murmured to her as they approached the sliding patio door. “Is it intended as revenge?”
“It’s armor,” she whispered back. “Though I did sort of hope to elicit some interest from certain parties. Make him a little jealous.”
“It’s working,” he said, nearly inaudibly. He couldn’t be certain that she had heard him because her face remained pleasant and lovely, but she did squeeze his arm as they approached the massive garden… which was utterly packed with impatient guests, who kept turning around in their seats to see why the ceremony was so late … which meant that absolutely everyone was scrutinizing them.
And there didn’t seem to be a place for her to sit.
“There aren’t enough chairs,” she breathed at the end of the aisle. “What if I just don’t watch the ceremony?”
“Nonsense,” Charlie said. “You are important. Come on.”
“Where are you going?” she asked through gritted teeth as Charlie lead her up the aisle towards the front of the seating. Sure enough, there were no available seats, but that didn’t seem to deter Charlie from pulling her all the way to the front row. Hermione could feel two hundred sets of eyes on her neck. Charlie leaned down to the man at the end of the row on the Groom’s side and spoke softly in his ear. The man nodded pleasantly and leaned over to his wife. The woman lifted the toddler beside her into her lap. Charlie gestured for Hermione to sit, but not before turning toward her. He kissed her cheek.
“There. Now you’ll be up here, with me.” He smiled at her brightly. Hermione shook her head in happy disbelief, taking her seat beside the little family. The toddler tried to hand her a slobbery griffon toy. She beamed at Charlie as he took his place beside his four other brothers, each in their matching grey dress robes. He looked away, as if he couldn’t handle her looking at him, but he was smiling.
“It’s lovely to see Charlie with such a beautiful woman!” the wife leaned over to Hermione and smiled. “He’s always been the most wonderful nephew.”
“Oh, we’re not together,” Hermione said. Her face was hot. She fanned herself.
“Aren’t you?”
Hermione shook her head. “We’ve been friends for a long time.”
“He’s so good with his cousins,” the woman said, pointing to the child in her lap. The toddler was laughing at Charlie, who was making faces at him. Hermione shook her head. Charlie glanced at her and winked. She got hotter.
The lilting music of violins began to play and Hermione felt her heart leap. She must’ve looked nervous because Charlie mimed a deep intake and mouthed the word Breathe . She nodded and took a ragged, deep gulp of air. The ceremony was beginning. The entire throng of guests turned to watch the party march up the aisle.
First, Harry led Ginny up the aisle to her place as Lavender’s maid of honor, followed by a stream of Lavender’s bridesmaids, all bedecked in various shades of pink and blue. Then, Ron followed with Molly on his arm. Hermione suddenly regretted her place up at the front where Ron could see her, but he did not look at her. Instead, he and everyone else lit up at the sight of Lavender at the end of the aisle. The crowd stood. Hermione turned back to face the front, looking up at the clouds, which were charmed to remain perfect, fluffy poofs. Then, she looked back at Charlie. He was watching her with a queer sort of look on his face.
Are you all right? She mouthed to him. She had forgotten that he needed bolstering to get through the wedding, as well… poor Charlie! He nodded once and tried to turn his attention back to the Bride and Groom.
Who must he be trying to avoid?
Most of the throng were Weasleys and extended family of the Browns, but there was a smattering of old school fellows and friends sprinkled into the mix. Hermione looked around at the crowd. Who could it be? It had to be someone other than a family member, and for the most part, Hermione could discern family from the friends at the party. But none of those friends really made sense because they were all Ron’s friends from school, who were several years behind Charlie and would have been too young to know him. Whoever this dreaded acquaintance was, they had to have spent enough time with Charlie for him to develop sour feelings of some kind.
It had to be someone with whom he was romantically involved--that’s the only thing that made sense to Hermione. Who? Who could it possibly be? As far as Hermione knew, he was only interested in women, which left very few possibilities. One of the Patil twins, perhaps… they both liked magical creatures well enough in school. Or Luna, who had gotten Hermione an interview in the Magizoology department in the first place--she had certainly been to the Romanian sanctuary where Charlie worked. But she was with Neville, and had been for several years, so… who could it be?
Then, it struck her like lightning. There was only one woman with whom Charlie would have spent a lot of time with who he wasn’t related to and could have developed feelings for:
Lavender.
***
Part 2
series masterlist - my charlie x hermione masterlist
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whompingwillowy · 2 years
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whompingwillowy · 2 years
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Why do you think Peter was put in gryffindor? Being brave is like the antithesis of who he is at his core
I appreciate greatly that you sent this immediately after I talked about maybe doing some discourse hours. that's commitment, and I admire you, anon.
I mean, the Sorting happens at eleven years old, so I think it's reasonable to say that at that point, Peter may have been a brave kid. He might have had the capacity for incredible bravery, even. Maybe, in his world, he had already been brave—maybe he stood up to a bully in his home town or was frightened to go to Hogwarts but still boarded the train, fears and all. Honestly, it's pretty brave to make friends on your first day, so that's one point in his favor.
Bravery, like so many aspects of the human condition, is about choice; you choose to face things or to run away, you choose to stand up for things you believe in. You choose to act despite fear. There was a point—or many points, or a gradual transition—at which Peter stopped choosing to be brave, and at that point, he stopped embodying Gryffindor, I suppose.
IDK. this is a super simple answer, I guess, but I just think that to say that bravery is the antithesis of who Peter was discounts the idea that it is the antithesis of who he became before 1981. He's a tough, unknowable character for me, and I often still find myself trying to figure him out.
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whompingwillowy · 2 years
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Frens 🥰
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whompingwillowy · 2 years
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Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire
“Lord Voldemort’s gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.”
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whompingwillowy · 2 years
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Neville changes letters in the book so Luna can read it, because the usual arrangement of letters is incomprehensible to her
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whompingwillowy · 2 years
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First (and only) love.
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whompingwillowy · 2 years
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Lupin and Tonks
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whompingwillowy · 2 years
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First kiss.
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whompingwillowy · 3 years
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“Dear Padfoot,
Thank you, thank you, for Harry’s birthday present! It was his favourite by far.”
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whompingwillowy · 3 years
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If there was one thing Sirius couldn’t refuse, it was Lily’s requests for him to play the piano whenever he visited them. 
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whompingwillowy · 3 years
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Lily and Marlene friendship
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M- They're such tossers! Marauders what a loosy name
L- Yeah! but he's cute though
M- Who?
L- Who what?
M- Who is cute?
L- All of them! Remus Lupin :adorable and Sirius he's gorgeous! Even Peter is a poppet.
M- And James?
L- James is passable i guess...
Lily isn't in denial, thank you very much.
And quoting our dear pads
''Nah, she didn't''
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whompingwillowy · 3 years
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Clumsy little Harry! Thankfully his father has some Quidditch reflexes.
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