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thehalfbloodedwitch · 2 years

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His Scent All Over (R.w. x reader)

Pairing- Ron x Femreader

Summary- Ron has gotten detention from the potions professor, Severus Snape and now he has to go for his detention, but he rants to the reader about how unfair his detention was| Fluff

House- Gryffindor

Warnings- Cursing and a heated make-out session

Meanings- y/n/n= your nickname

Words- 1,706 words

Ron Masterlist Main Masterlist

Everyone hated the class of "potions," excluding Slytherins of course. Severus Snape was a professor who simply adored assigning innocent kids a shitload of homework and teaching the topics like a bullet train no one could catch, with Hermione being an exception.

However, the majority of the population detested potions, and you were among those who did. You, Harry and Ron your boyfriend, suffered the most in potions since Snape had issues with you and enjoyed assigning you more work, detentions, extra homework, challenging questions, and other things.

You were on your way to final class, potions, along with Ron, Harry, and Hermione. After that, you four separated into pairs; you sat with Ron and Harry sat with Hermione.

Ron sat down next to you as you were setting your belongings on your desk and remarked, "Well, at least Snape hasn't yet come." You sighed and replied, "Ron, he would be here in no time,"

He laughed and continued, "So, did you finish the potions homework?" Your eyes widened you hadn't completed your homework the previous class as well, which resulted in detention, but that if you did so again, you would be done for life.

“Oh, my Merlin! I forgot to do it again! Dammit!” you said and rested your hands on your forehead, “Wait, you aren’t joking? Y/n/n, are you kidding me?” Ron asked in a worried tone, he didn’t want his girlfriend to get another detention, you frowned and looked up at him and nodded.

As soon as Ron started to speak, Snape entered the room and greeted the students, "Good afternoon class," as he stood in front of them

"I am dead, I am dead," you thought to yourself as Snape continued, "I assume you all have finished your assignment which I had assigned to all of you, let's start with..."

He searched the room before turning to face you and saying, "Ms. Y/l/n? "When he approached your desk, your breath was caught in your throat and your mouth went dry. You couldn't just tell him you hadn't finished the homework again.

You took a deep breath and opened your mouth to respond when suddenly Ron spoke “Y/n, here's your potions notebook, you had left it at the...uhh..common room..” as he handed you a notebook, you then took it from his hand.

Snape asked you with an eyebrow arched, “So? Miss Y/l/n, have you finished your assignment?” You took a deep breath and opened the notebook and to your utter surprise, your assignment was complete.

Astonished you passed the notebook to Snape who checked it over, sternly nodded and then turned to Ron, “Mr. Weasley, have you finished your assignment?” to which Ron confidently replied, “No sir, I didn’t” Your eyes widened at the statement,

“Detention Mr. Weasley and 10 points from Gryffindor!” then he went to the other desks to check over their assignments.

"Ron, are you crazy? Why did you hand me your notebook and said it to was “mine”? You whispered to Ron, to which he laughed and said, "I didn't want you to get another detention darling, plus I love doing noble services like these, for you of course." You smiled at him and said, "Next time, don't do this, you got detention for nothing," to which he held up your hand and kissed it and said, "Anything for you baby." to which you giggled.

Snape shouted "SILENCE," you stopped giggling and focused on the work he had assigned.

After the tiresome period was finally over you and Ron made your way out but not before Snape yelled, “Mr. Weasley, stay back, we need to discuss your detention.”

Ron sighed and signaled you to leave and you then went and joined Harry and Hermione, “You hadn’t done your homework Y/n/n!! What happened?” Hermione inquired along with Harry who looked at you in confusion.

You then told them jokingly the story of ‘how great Ron is how he saved you from getting another detention to which Harry gushed, “Aww, Ron’s a sweetheart!” Hermione along with you laughed as you struck Harry's arm hard to which he yelled out, "Ouch, okay sorry!"

You and Harry chuckled along with Hermione as she said, "I have never seen Ron so soft for someone," and the three of you proceeded to the Gryffindor Tower.

After about 30 minutes, Ron entered the common room. When he saw you on the couch there, relaxed and working on your most recent homework for potions, he smiled and sat down beside you.

He then said, "Looks like people do learn from their mistakes," to which you retaliated, "Well, I never told you to help me!" Ron laughed. You gave him a tender kiss on the lips and inquired, "What's your detention by the way?"

Ron replied, "I have to separate the good from the flobberworms without protective gloves." “WHAT?” you nearly yelled, he grinned and continued, "You heard me, sweetie,"

Although flobberworms are harmless, you felt more guilty than ever. You looked at him with a frown and said, "Ugh, next time I will NEVER skip my homework," holding out your pinky. He linked his finger with yours and asked, "Promise?" You nodded and replied, "Promise."

Ron then came and gave you a soft kiss on the nose and said, "It's not that bad, but after coming back I would want to spend some time with you," and you rolled your eyes and replied, "Obviously you idiot" and started finishing your homework while Ron got his and completed his along with you.

For the entire time, you two conversed. Harry had stepped out his dorm to speak with Ron, but after watching how absorbed he was in your conversation and the way he was gazing at you with unadulterated affection, he grinned and decided not to bother him.

Your day was therefore over after all of your assignments and homework were finished. In your dorm, Hermione was waiting for you to tell her everything that had happened with you and Ron.

She was supportive of you two and was interested in learning more about your relationship, and you were more than willing to tell Hermione about your conversations with Ron and how gentle and sweet he is. Hermione and you had a conversation before getting ready for bed and sleeping soundly.

When the time came for Ron to depart for his detention, you were both in his room, curled up in his bed while he gently brushed your hair, and you inhaled his scent. It was so comfortable that you didn't want to leave and wanted to stay in this place forever.

You recalled that he had detention, so you jolted up and jerked him awake, saying, "Babe, you have your detention now, it's already four. Wake up baby” the moment Ron's eyes opened, he grinned and asked, "What darling?"

“Your detention!” you exclaimed as you rolled your eyes. Ron then responded, "Uhh, not now...5 minutes...please..," rubbing his eyes and furrowing his brows.

"RON YOU DON'T WANT TO BE LATE FOR YOUR DETENTION OR SNAPE'S GONNA KILL YOU," you yelled as you forcefully shook him. "Y/n/n, you should actually talk to me respectfully, I fucking saved you from Snape," he sighed as he awoke. "Yeah, alright," you rolled your eyes as you instructed him to leave.

Ron then got up and dressed in his robes and tie, his tie was dangling loosely around his neck, so you sighed and went over to fix it, “There, now it’s perfect” you said as you admired your work and Ron.

He then came and kissed you roughly, getting deeper and deeper into the kiss, he grabbed your neck and pulled you into him, completely exploring your mouth as you kept trying to dominate him.

Your hands grabbing his collar and pulling him closer and closer with each passing second, your tongues tangled into a hot mess while your mouths moved in sync.

To catch your breath you pulled yourself out, breathing heavily you said, "You have to go for detention Ron" to which Ron grumbled and attached his lips onto your neck, giving you a hickey while his hands rested on your waist.

“Could you walk with me till there?” Ron asked as his lips were pressing against yours, his breath was on your skin, and you nodded and grinned.

Then you took the coat out of Ron's trunk, put it on, and asked, "What are we waiting for?" and you both went to the potions classroom.

“Y/n/n, I don’t want to go” Ron whined as you giggled at his childish behavior and said, “I wish too, but Snape will murder you with just his bare hands if you don’t go”

Ron scoffed and said “I literally hate that man, I mean to go after the other people who didn’t do their assignments there were so many who didn’t do it! But no, he had to go for us, that bastar-” before he could finish his sentence you exclaimed “Ron!”

Ron rolled his eyes at you and said, "I still expect us to finish what we started back at my dorm after I come back."

You smirked back and said, "Yes, and if you come back early we could do something more.." to which Ron smirked. When you came to a stop in front of the potion classroom, he winked at you and entered the room while mouthing the words "Love you."

How the heck did you even wind up with such an amazing, charming, and loyal person, you wondered as Ron closed the door as you turned to head back to the Gryffindor common room.. You thanked Merlin for you to Ron.

Let's just pretend that you and Ron spent a long evening together back at his dorm. Ron, though, didn't find the detention to be too unpleasant.

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Tags- @blackthunder137 @slytherin-princess247 @miss-celestial-being @pottahishotasf @spring-picnics @eichenhouseproperty @e-m-christina

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sitp-recs · 11 months

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heyo! do you know of any fics with period-typical homophobia? i really crave that hurt/comfort yknow

Hello! Sure, I listed below some fics exploring external and/or internalized homophobia. Back in the day (2008-2014) many fics touched on this topic so older stories will likely have what you’re looking for. @writcraft often explores it in their work so I’d definitely browse their full catalogue for more treats!

Born Sick by Writcraft (M, 6k)

Draco has been raised to believe homosexuality is a sin. When he encounters an out and proud Harry Potter, his world turns upside down. He is forced to question his beliefs, his values and himself.

I'll never be your chosen one by Andithiel (E, 15k)

Draco doesn't know what exactly he’s doing with Potter, he doesn't know how their unspoken agreement even started, and doesn't know where it will end. The only thing he knows is: he's not in love.

Vanishing Cabinets by Romaine (E, 18k)

Take one Wizarding Family Values politician who has a secret life, and add one Auror who detests discrimination of any type, but becomes a bit obsessed with said politician, and you have enough sparks to ignite a Beltane fire.

Don't Stop It Before It Begins by mischieviolet (M, 19k)

“I don’t understand how this is of any concern to you, Malfoy,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. Draco blinked at the use of his last name, something that Harry only used with him in jest these days. “I’m merely spending time with my Auror partner, who is from another country, and has no one here. I would do the same if it were you.”

Secret Love Song by Writcraft (E, 22k)

If there's one thing Draco's certain about, it's that Harry Potter's hiding something. When he gets to the bottom of Harry's closely guarded secret, a flippant solution brings them closer together and forces Harry to confront his past.

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (E, 28k)

Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man.

Faint Indirections by ignatiustrout (T, 29k)

Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expects to turn up in Boston, Massachussetts. But now he's here, and he won't stop requesting books from the library where Harry works.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (M, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

War Wounds by SilentAuror (E, 30k)

Some wounds take longer to recover from than others. HP/DM, with background HP/GW. Themes of alcoholism, love triangles, and dubious fidelity.

All Roads by korlaena (M, 36k)

Draco hates his job at the Prophet. He hates it even more when he’s assigned to write an article on Harry Potter, who left the country three years ago after their falling out. Draco doesn’t want to face the truth about himself, but he’s stuck between Harry and his duty, and he’s out of options.

The Beauty of Thestrals and Other Unseen Things by Writcraft (E, 63k)

Harry has terrific friends, an amazing girlfriend and his job as Head Auror enables him to work on challenging cases and Ministry reform. He just wishes he could work out why he’s been so out of sorts.

You open always (petal by petal) by birdsofshore (E, 65k)

Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is.

Away Childish Things by lettered (T, 154k)

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

Things Worth Knowing by Femme and noeon (E, 164k)

After the Battle, Harry thinks he's left Hogwarts for good, but Minerva insists that all students return for an Eighth Year if they wish to sit for NEWTs in the spring, and Harry needs those NEWTs to go into the Aurors. Draco's just grateful not to be in Azkaban. Or the Manor. He's hoping he can steer clear of Potter this year and grapple with his own problems. Unfortunately for him, Potter appears to be one of those problems.

Changing of the Guard by Lomonaaeren (E, 210k)

Need a perfect stranger? Ask Metamorphosis. Harry Potter runs the business secretly and becomes whoever’s needed for each occasion. He’s not sure whether he should be more surprised, worried, or amused when Draco Malfoy comes to Metamorphosis and requests an actor who can play his boyfriend so that his parents will disown him.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #cw homophobia

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fanfic-lover-girl · 8 months

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Snape vs Hama - When a Victim Becomes a Villain

So I was thinking about how victims become abusers and how their victimhood does not excuse their crimes as abusers. It is a valid explanation and it should provoke some level of empathy but the crime should never be totally condoned just because the abuser was a victim.

Which made me think of Snape vs. Hama for some reason.

In Harry Potter, Snape is considered a grey character while in ATLA Hama is an outright villain. While many Snape haters and antis claim Snape is not a hero but a villain, Snape's actions were nowhere near condemned on the same level compared to Hama's actions in ATLA. But why is that? For me, the main difference lies in how they retaliated against their abusers or the ones who committed crimes against them. Let me start with Snape.

Snape

So Snape was bullied mercilessly by the marauders while in school. Some of their actions were outright criminal. Including attempted murder (werewolf prank) and sexual assault (Snape's Worst Memory). As an adult, he became a death eater but then turned to the good side when his actions, in part, led to Lily Potter, his former friend, being murdered. It does not matter how the redemption happened - the point is that he had one.

But just because Snape had a redeeming moment did not make him into a sunshine cinamon roll. He detested Harry, the son of the man who made his school days hell, and always made sure Harry knew his dad was vile trash. He picked on Neville for being a clumsy student. He degraded Hermione for being an annoying know-it-all student.

But despite all this...Snape ultimately did more good towards the ones who hurt him. He saved Harry's life multiple times despite Harry always mistrusting his intentions and Harry always being proven wrong about Snape. He protected Neville in book 7 from the Carrows. He diligently brewed Lupin wolfsbane potion despite Lupin almost killing him years back and borderline gaslighting their awful past when they worked as coworkers (always calling Snape by his first name like they are friends and calling past bullying an old schoolboy grudge). He carried Sirius back on a stretcher in book 3 like a decent person while Sirius indifferently banged his head against the wall when he levitated Snape in the same book. He acts civilly towards Sirius and Lupin despite showing signs of still being wary of them.

Snape was not a pleasant teacher and not what someone would call nice, but ultimately he was a good person. Or at least he was not evil.

Hama

Hama has a tragic backstory as well. More than Snape. She was taken prisoner as a young woman and kept in an inhumane prison for years/decades. She was cut off from her element and had little hope of ever returning home. You can also imply that she was probably physically and/or sexually abused as well even if the show never indicates so. It's a prison so the possibility is high.

Fortunately, she is able to use bloodbending to escape. She then settles in a small fire nation town. I do not know when, but she then begins to use her skills to kidnap people from the town during full moons and hold them prisoner. I do not know how long she did this or if she committed these acts in various towns, but it is long enough for villagers to be cautious and give warnings about the full moon.

What makes Hama villainous is who she is attacking. We could empathize with her if she went on a rampage attacking fire nation soldiers or other fire nation prison guards. Kind of like Red Hood from Batman. The fire nation committed a grave injustice against her after all. However, she chooses to attack innocent fire nation citizens. Citizens who likely played no role in her captivity and have minimal roles in the war. Fire nation citizens who are likely also struggling in their own way during the war. The fire nation citizens, the working class in particular, are war victims as well. Moreover, there was nothing stopping her from going home. There was even a theory that Yon Rah came to the Southern water tribe looking for an escaped Hama, not Katara! She chose to stay in the land that oppressed her and hurt people in acts of revenge. She never even appeared to free others as well!

Unlike Snape who chose a different path once confronted with the consequences of his actions, Hama only doubled down and tried to bring Katara down with her. Even when Katara beats Hama, Hama suffers no remorse and laughs as she is led away by the townspeople.

Conclusion

I feel sorry for Hama. It's obvious her time in prison broke her. As for Snape, life dealt him a bad hand. Both were victims but only one chose to make her life's mission to hurt people. In the end, most of Snape's offences boil down to harsh words. Hopefully, Firelord Zuko was able to give other waterbender prisoners the justice they deserved.

PS: I think Hama should have just murdered all the guards, freed the other prisoners, and then gone back home or settled down in a quiet town.

For Snape, he should have left Hogwarts long ago. If possible, he should have transferred to another school because all Hogwarts did was lead him into a cult and turned a blind eye to his suffering. He should have played no role in the war at all and tossed Lily aside permanently. Harry should have never been Snape's problem. Maybe opening up his own potion business and leaving the country entirely, far away from Hogwarts and Cokesworth. Voldemort and Dumbledore both did not give a crap about him.

That's just my take.

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urupotter · 2 years

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“…and then there was another flash, of light and I landed on the bed again!” Ron grinned, helping himself to sausages.

Hermione had not cracked a smile during this anecdote, and now turned an expression of wintry disapproval upon Harry.

“Was this spell, by any chance, another one from that potion book of yours?” she asked.

“Because it’s probably not Ministry of Magic approved,” said Hermione. “And also,” she added, as Harry and Ron rolled their eyes, “because I’m starting to think this Prince character was a bit dodgy.”

Both Harry and Ron shouted her down at once.

“It was a laugh!” said Ron, upending a ketchup bottle over his sausages. “Just a laugh, Hermione, that’s all!”

I think I know what Mulciber did to Mary McDonald.

“We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging round with! I’m sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber! Mulciber, What do you see in him, Sev, he’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald the other day?”

Lily had reached a pillar and leaned against it, looking up into the thin, sallow face.

“That was nothing,” said Snape. “It was a laugh, that’s all — ”

Those last lines are... eerily similar. Makes it seem like a rather intentional parallel. There's more:

“Dangling people upside down by the ankle?” said Hermione. “Who puts their time and energy into making up spells like that?”

“Fred and George,” said Ron, shrugging, “it’s their kind of thing. And, er—”

“My dad,” said Harry. He had only just remembered.

“What?” said Ron and Hermione together.

“My dad used this spell,” said Harry. “I—Lupin told me.”

This last part was not true; in fact, Harry had seen his father use the spell on Snape, but he had never told Ron and Hermione about that particular excursion into the Pensieve. Now, however, a wonderful possibility occurred to him. Could the Half-Blood Prince possibly be—?

“Maybe your dad did use it, Harry,” said Hermione, “but he’s not the only one. We’ve seen a whole bunch of people use it, in case you’ve forgotten. Dangling people in the air. Making them float along, asleep, helpless.”

Harry stared at her. With a sinking feeling, he too remembered the behavior of the Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup. Ron came to his aid.

“That was different,” he said robustly. “They were abusing it. Harry and his dad were just having a laugh.

Snape isn't Ron, so while they're paralleled, Ron is defending the harmless version of the Prince he knows, while Snape would be defending the more... dubious uses of Levicorpus in this scenario. This would even explain why Lily laughs in Snape's Worst Memory, even though she clearly disapproves of the behavior on display. She's amused at the irony of Snape now suffering from the same behavior he excused earlier. In fact, her amusement seems specifically at Levicorpus:

But too late; Snape had directed his wand straight at James; there was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of James’s face, spattering his robes with blood. James whirled about; a second flash of light later, Snape was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of graying underpants.

Many people in the small crowd watching cheered. Sirius, James, and Wormtail roared with laughter.

Lily, whose furious expression had twitched for an instant as though she was going to smile, said, “Let him down!”

James and Mulciber would also be a parallel in this scenario, as established by how Hermione says that "maybe your dad did use it" thinking of a more inoffensive scenario (like Ron and the Prince), while the real version is much more dubious, and Harry, who actually knows the truth, compares the behavior to that of Death Eaters. Mulciber would later become a Death Eater.

#james potter #mulciber #severus snape #lily evans #snape's worst memory #hp meta #hp #harry potter

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randomshyperson · 3 years

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The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 23 - The Witch's Cabin (Part Two)

Thanks to my gif maker and friend of course, @abimess.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. || Chapter Warnings: +18, smut.

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Chapter 23 - Part XXIII - The Witch's Cabin (Part Two)

You weren't sure if Wanda wanted some time from you as well, as you watched her walk through the garden, sit alone on one of the benches while looking at the rocky mountains in the distance.

What you were sure of was that she was distressed. So much so, that even as she blocked out her emotions, strands of her discomfort escaped, and you felt your body shiver slightly.

Sighing, you put your hands in your pockets, resisting the urge to join her as you watched her from the balcony.

"Here, Miss." It is Charles who says beside you, with a mug of reheated tea. You raise your eyebrow in confusion, and he smiles tenderly. "I thought a hot drink would bring you some comfort." He explains, and you mutter a thank you as you accept the cup.

Charles stands beside you, watching the landscape in silence for a moment. When you take the first sip, and sigh lightly, he asks, "Did it help?"

"Not much." You reply. "I appreciate the intention, but I won't feel good over tea until she is."

It's a simple statement. And Charles just murmurs in understanding, not needing you to explain further.

There is another pause, before he speaks again.

"Then I think you should talk to her." He says.

"She said she needed some time alone." You retort, scratching the back of your head with your hand quickly, and placing the cup on the large one on the balcony. "I'm giving her space."

"Oh, I see." He murmurs. "Are you sure that the alone time included her protector?"

You give a short humorless laugh. "You know, people have weird ideas about this whole thing. We're still two separate people. Wanda can have her time without me."

"Of course she can." Charles agrees quickly. "Forgive me, I think I expressed myself badly. I didn't mean to say that you two aren't independent, or to put me on the same level as sensationalist wizards who don't know anything about ancient magic." He speaks, causing you to frown. "I only meant that it is my understanding that scarlet witches and their patrons have a special relationship. If I remember correctly, it is written that the patrons bring a profound sense of safety and comfort to their sorceresses when present."

You feel your cheeks flush, and you look away quickly. Charles doesn't seem to notice, or if he does, he says nothing.

"So...do you think she'll like it if I talk to her?"

" Well, she's your sorceress, you know her better than I do, Miss Stark." Jokes the man. "Don't let an old book tell you what you must or mustn't do."

You bite the inside of your cheek, lingering your gaze on the crestfallen figure of Wanda meters ahead.

"Thanks for the tea, Charles." You mutter before starting to walk toward the gardens.

To avoid frightening her, you make a noise with your steps, but Wanda only lifts her head when you are practically at her side.

And you swallow dryly when you notice the tears on her face, approaching calmly to sit beside her.

You don't have to say anything really, and you don't mind waiting for her to tell you whatever she needs to. But Wanda just waits for you to sit down, and then she leans against your body, sinking into your embrace as you run your hands around her.

She relaxes immediately with your touch, sighing. You think Charles was right after all.

Her tears cease, drying against your shirt, and she inhales deeply against you.

“Thank you.” She whispers, making you smile shyly, as you run your fingers through her hair.

"For what?" you whisper back, half-joking, not knowing exactly what you've done.

"For staying."

You sigh, hugging her tighter as your fingers gently scratch the back of her neck, and Wanda shivers against you, before relaxing completely. "I told you I'm never leaving."

You stand like that for a few more moments, until Wanda starts to move again. She pulls her face away to look at you, and you just smile at the intense way she does so.

"I'm sorry." She says, and you frown in confusion. She straightens up before continuing, taking a deep breath, as if she is finding the right words. "With everything Agatha showed us, I finally understood that I never had a choice on my fate. And before, when I was going to erase your memory, how angry you got, I didn't understand why. Because to me, I was making the right thing, sparing you somehow. But now, I understand." She confesses quickly, gesturing as her eyes fill with tears. "It was your choice. And I don't think you would ever forgive me if I moved on without you, when you chose to stay with me. And as much as I hate how dangerous this is, and I don’t want you to get hurt, you have the right to choose to stay by my side if you want, because those are your feelings and I had no right to try to take them away from you."

You nod, sighing, and raise your hand to her face, caressing her cheek.

"It's okay, darling." You say. "I haven't been angry in quite some time. But I appreciate that you apologized."

You move closer, kissing her softly on the lips before pulling away. "I guess in the end I broke my promise about not touching you before the apology." You joke making her smile. "I couldn't help it, you're just too irresistible."

Wanda laughs shyly, raising her hands to your neck, looking at you fondly.

"Do you want to talk about what we saw?" You ask next, and she sighs, nodding.

You spend the next few minutes talking. Wanda feels bad about the whole thing. About all the lies, schemes, and about never having had a real choice. No matter what would happen, she was always going to become the Scarlet Witch. And no one asked if she wanted that.

She didn't talk about Natalya, and you respected her time.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive Agatha completely for the things she did." Wanda confesses a moment later, you two are sitting side by side, looking at the mountains. "But a part of me will never be able to hate her entirely. And I detest that."

"It doesn't bother me that she matters to you, Wanda." You say. "Even with everything that happened, she really believed she was doing the right thing. And now she's helping us. And I know you've spent a lot more time with her than I have." You clarify quickly, and Wanda looks at you with a slight frown. "I just mean that even with the pain she caused me, it's okay for you to still care about her. I won't hold a grudge over it."

Wanda nods, reaching your hand up on the bench. She entwines your fingers together, and moves closer to lean against you, resting her head on your shoulder.

"Can we stay here just a little longer?" She whispers. The sunrise is approaching. You were going to say you would stay as long as she wanted, but your speech becomes a yawn halfway through, and she laughs softly. "Maybe the bed would be better."

You laugh softly too, and Wanda squeezes your hand before moving to pull you back into the house.

When you go through the kitchen, Agatha is there. She and Wanda exchange a look, but neither of them says anything, and you just follow the brunette in front of you upstairs.

You think you'll sleep until lunchtime at least.

//-//-//-//-//-//

You grunted in pain as you fell to the ground.

"Everything okay there, Stark?" Agatha's softly teasing voice made you give a wry laugh.

"Perfect." You grumbled as you stood up, wiping the dust from your pants. "Again please, and try something stronger this time, Agatha, I think you're starting to go soft on me."

The witch laughed, raising her wand quickly. The next spell hurt more than the first.

It had been eight and a half weeks since you had been in Agatha's house.

Things were going well, if you could put it that way.

After that day when Agatha showed the memories out of the pensieve, she and Wanda were on thin ice, and no memories were shared again. They treated each other politely, with occasional sharp pins, but nothing ever too aggressive.

Meanwhile, Agatha was really helping the two of you to become better sorcerers.

You think you never learned so much magic at once, but you weren't complaining.

Even Charles was helping you with potions, a passion he seemed to share with Erik.

And with the intensity of your studies, Agatha hoped that soon you would be worthy of pulling Rowena's diadem out of the hat, but she never seemed to find the right spot, and it was making everyone slightly frustrated, even if no one would admit it.

You haven't heard from the order.

With Fury's death, the radio went silent. You believed that no one but him had been arrested, or killed, because nothing was said in the Daily Prophet. But it wasn't easy to ignore the tightness in your chest at not knowing for sure.

Now that you were practically considering yourself a master at dueling, even if Agatha wouldn't admit that you had far more knowledge in defense against the dark arts than any other witch your age, you expected her to continue the lessons in Occlumency and Legilimency that Erik never managed to finish.

"You're not ready for that yet." She replied, for the third time you brought up the subject, and you sighed impatiently.

"But professor-"

"Erik taught you the basic level of that magic, Y/N." She interrupts, moving her hands so that the objects in the kitchen begin to prepare lunch around you. Wanda is in the house library, studying with Charles, and you had spent all morning practicing dueling spells, and learning to become more resistant to them as well.

Your whole body was sore from the times you fell to the ground when you were hit by stupefy and the most common duelling spells , but it was better than being knocked out at the first attempt if you had never practiced before.

"A master of legilimency would be able to dominate the minds of an entire city at once. You're not ready for that kind of magic yet."

"But I don't need to control an entire city, Agatha." You argue back, following her through the kitchen around the house. "You can just continue from where Erik started and-"

"Enough." She interrupts by turning to you, but she doesn't look angry, just impatient. "You won't leave me alone if I don't agree won't you?"

"No."

She sighs. "I can teach you Occlumency, Stark. But I won't teach you Legilimency, it's...against my vows."

You frown in confusion, "Your vows?"

But Agatha gives you only an insinuating look, and you understand.

As Legilimency is directly considered a forbidden, and dark magic, it would break her vow to only do the right thing by the scarlet witch, her promise to Natalya.

You've never been more curious to know how Agatha got around the perpetual vow for so many years, but the way she’s back walking tells you she's not going to share that with you anytime soon.

"Charles is a master legilimens." She continues talking, moving downstairs where the library is. You in her trail. "He can teach you."

"Really? That 's great!."

As you arrive at the study room, the huge piles of enchanted books surrounding you, your gaze immediately seeks Wanda's.

As Agatha tells Charles to teach you, you approach the girl, finding her distracted with a reading. You smile at how lovely she looks, and can't help but move quickly closer, and steal a surprise kiss from her that makes her sigh.

"Hey, you." You say as you pull away, and she giggles as she relaxes.

"Hey, you." She repeats as she stops you from moving away by holding you by your arm, pulling you back to kiss you properly.

"Hey little love birds, your first lesson in Occlumency is going to be tonight." Agatha warns in a tone of teasing, as you give an embarrassed chuckle breaking away from Wanda, leaning on the pilaster next to the chair she is sitting in. "And you, Miss Maximoff, can practice your natural legilimency skills with Charles on the same schedule as well."

"Yes, ma'am." You and Wanda answer together, and Agatha gives a warning sneer before turning, squeezing Charles' shoulder gently before leaving.

The man turns to you. "Miss Stark, please do not spill mud on my parchments."

You look down to your clothes immediately. Well, it wasn't your fault that Agatha had knocked you to the ground so many times. You were a mess, and you raised your hands in a sign of surrender.

"Sorry, Charles." You mutter as you walk away. "I just came to give my beautiful girl a kiss, I'm going upstairs to take a shower. See you two at lunch."

You give Wanda a wink of goodbye before walking away, being careful not to bump into books along the way.

//-//-//-//

You grumbled softly in pain as you removed your tangled sweater, realizing that perhaps you should have asked Agatha to go easy on the spells instead of challenging her.

Distracted, you startled when you heard knocking on the bathroom door, but relaxed completely when you saw that it was only Wanda, who smiled and leaned against the doorframe, looking up at you.

"Hey, babe." You greeted her, working to remove your shoes. "Do you want anything?"

"No, I just decided to take a break from the books." She replies. "But I would like to know how you convinced Agatha to teach you Occlumency so easily." She comments in a mixed tone of teasing and impressiveness and you laugh softly as you kick your untied shoes away.

"With my charm of course." You return, making her laugh.

When you motion to remove the shirt, Wanda bites her lips. "Allow me."

You stand still then as she steps up to your front, looking at you with the same tenderness that you look back.

Wanda works on the buttons of your shirt, and when she is finished, she pushes the material away, sliding it down your arms until it falls to the floor. You blush slightly under her curious gaze, but say nothing, letting her move the straps of your bra, and then open the clasp, soon the garment falls too.

She moves her fingers down your waist, to reach the zipper and buttons of your pants, and unzips them. You move timidly to remove the item as well, taking your panties with it.

Wanda gives a soft giggle, and you look at her curiously.

"What?"

"It's nothing." She says shyly. "It's...I just realized that it's the first time I've seen you naked."

You blush, but respond. "I wish I wasn't covered in dirt."

"I wish you weren't covered in bruises." She retorts sharply, and you swallow dryly. The purple marks around your body are a result of the spells, but you don't care about that. The pain isn't exactly strange after all.

"It was worth it, though." You retort softly, and think that part of you is really referring to getting stronger, learning new magic. But the other part, the part that knows it's all for the girl in front of you, adds, "You're worth all the effort."

Wanda looks away, swallowing dryly as well. "Don't say that."

"It's the truth, Wanda." You say simply, and she sighs, straightening her posture softly.

"But you don't have to say it."

"You want me to lie then?"

"I just don't want you to say it so proudly." She retorts almost scoldingly, and you bite the inside of your cheek, not wanting to argue. She sighs, and puts distance between you, turning toward the exit.

You clear your throat, and call out to her. "I don't want you to be angry." You murmur. "I can't help it to say things like this, you know that."

Her expression softens. "I'm not angry, darling." She assures you. "I'll just get a towel for myself."

She leaves before you understand what that implies. Wishing you didn't look like a complete mess, you quickly step into the tub you left ready as soon as you arrived in the bathroom, and sink against the hot water, waiting for Wanda to join you.

Wanda doesn't take long. She leaves the towel in the sink, and smiles at you before she starts to undress, right there in front of you, as if she had done it a thousand times before.

You blush, but don't look away. And she doesn't seem to mind that you follow every movement of her hands, although her cheeks redden when she has her breasts exposed in the air.

Soon, she steps into the tub with you, taking the seat in the opposite corner, smiling softly as you hug your legs, looking up at her.

"I'm sorry I said that, I know you don’t like it and I shouldn’t have." You mutter. But Wanda just shakes her head, steeling herself to move closer, her hands touching your forearms.

"Don't worry." She says. "It's the truth after all. You are my knight in shining armor, and I can't do anything to change that."

You laugh softly, and Wanda smiles, stroking your skin with her thumb.

"I want to try something." She says next, making you look at her curiously. "Something I read about it this week. Can I?"

"Of course, darling." You say, and then she is pulling your forearms gently so that you stop hugging your legs, and you sink your hands into the water, waiting, as Wanda moves her fingers, guiding you so that you sit properly, and she sits between your legs. "What are you going to do?"

You ask curiously, even half embarrassed to have her so close, but Wanda just smiles, moving her hands out of the tub, where she makes the soap magically fly to her.

"First, I'm helping you get clean, babe."

She says, dipping the soap in the water before bringing it to your skin, lathering your shoulders gently. You relax under her touch, looking at her intently.

"Can I do the same to you?" you ask in a whisper, and she smiles.

"Of course."

Wanda raises the soap at face height, and with a flick of her hands, the item doubles itself to another. You raise your eyebrow. "Show-off." You tease, making her chuckle, as she hands you the other soap.

For the next few minutes, you help each other soap up amidst giggles, and stolen glances. Wanda's touch is as gentle and affectionate as her gaze, and you are so comfortable that you don't even have time to think about how intimate the whole moment is.

As you finish washing off the soap, Wanda begins to run her fingers along your shoulders. "Will you stay on your back for me?" She asks lowly, and you murmur in agreement before shifting to obey.

Without seeing her, your curiosity makes you tense up, and Wanda smiles as she moves closer, her hands on your waist. "Relax, darling." She asks against your ear, her fingers moving up your skin slowly as you obey.

"Do you remember last summer?" She begins, and suddenly you are feeling soft twinges on your skin. It's Wanda's magic. You don't know what she's doing, but it feels good. Little shocks around your back.

You just murmur, relaxing against her hand.

"When Papa taught you about mirroring magic, I mean." She continues, her tone low and soft. "So that you could take my damage from possible attacks."

"And you were so upset about my wrist breaking when you fell off a broom that you put me to sleep in Pietro's bed." You complete making her laugh.

"But I didn't send you away because I still wanted you in my house." She retorts and you laugh in agreement.

"Yes I do, darling." You say next. "I remember everything I went through with you."

Wanda bites her lips, blushing at your statement. But she continues to talk beyond that.

"There is another kind of spell like that." She says. "Charles was reading with me a line that said If the protector can take the pain, the witch must learn to heal the pain as well. You understand what I mean?"

You sigh softly as you feel the pressure of her fingers increase on the points where you knew you were injured. But it's not discomfort that you feel. It's a different sensation, like an electric shiver that turns into a gentle tightness.

"Yeah, I think so. You'll be able to heal my wounds now, right?" You ask with your eyes closed, instinctively leaning even closer against her hand as the pressure increases, and Wanda just murmurs in agreement, concentrating on her task. "That's pretty cool."

"I still need to learn it properly." She continues. "And I don't want to have to practice."

You chuckle softly at the comment. Of course she doesn't. For her to learn to heal your wounds, you would need to hurt her so she gets to practice, and that possibility is horrible for Wanda.

"I'm sure we'll find an alternative to that, Wands." You murmur lazily, so relaxed against her touch that you begin to feel sleepy.

Wanda continues for a few more minutes, and when she finishes, she goes around your waist with her hands pulling you gently against her, making you sigh.

"How do you feel?" She asks with her face resting on your shoulder, her arms hugging you as you relax against her.

"I feel incredible, love." You reply with your eyes closed. "Thanks to your magic fingers."

Wanda giggles, turning her face to kiss your neck, her lips touching your skin softly and making you smile and sigh.

"Can I make you feel even better?" She asks as she returns her mouth to your ear, playing with the lobe between her lips and teeth, making you hold your breath. "I could use my magic fingers."

You bite back a smile, nodding. Wanda inhales softly, settling herself better against the tub.

Her hands go around your belly with her fingertips, moving upward. You gasp when she reaches your breasts, stimulating your nipples between her fingers.

You let out a satisfied murmur, and your body gradually warms up.

When your nipples are hardened enough, and Wanda has you shivering, she wraps your breasts with her full hands, pressing the flesh against her palm, and you gasp, throwing your hips forward unter water.

"Wanda." You sigh softly as she continues to play with your breasts. "Don't tease."

"I'm not teasing darling." She murmurs back, returning the gentle caress against your nipples. "I'm just getting you wet."

"Just... touch me." You whisper, starting to move back into her, the tightness in your belly growing, and all she did was touch you softly. "Please."

Wanda lets out a sigh, like a giggle, and you don't have to look at her to know she's smiling. "I didn't know you were the begging type, babe."

You grumble under the teasing, but Wanda finally lowers her hands, and you shiver in anticipation, forgetting to respond.

She runs her hands down your inner thighs, but never where you want her. And when you sigh impatiently, she chuckles against your ear.

"Say pretty please again." She teases and you feel your cheeks burn, quickly turning your face to the left, putting distance between her mouth and your ear. All Wanda does is chuckles again, but this time, her fingers go straight to where you want her, caressing your entrance and you gasp.

“M-more.” You ask but she just stands still, her fingertips against your clint while her mouth kisses your shoulder and her other hand goes up to your breast, to repeat the moviments from earlier.

You have trouble keeping your eyes open, and when you try to force her finger against you, she just moves them away with a giggle while you grumble of dissatisfaction.

“Wanda.” You warn, but her hand just rests against your thigh.

“C’mon, babe.” She says. “You sounded so hot when you said please. Do it again.”

“No.” You retort stubbornly, but your affected tone makes her smile, her fingers moving closer to your warm center but still not touching and making you clench your closed fists.

"Say, please fuck me." Wanda whispers against your ear, and you feel a sharp, tightly pulsation in your belly, sighing heavily. "And I will."

But you didn't want to give Wanda a taste of victory, even as you came so close to begging for her touch. All you did was press hard against her, your ass fitted against her hot core, and she gasped in surprise and arousal, digging her nails into your thigh.

"Cheater." She murmured breathlessly, making you smile, but your advantage was short-lived when she pressed your breast into her palm, and without any warning, slid a finger into you, entering easily through both the water in the tub and your arousal.

"Oh." You moaned loudly, one hand gripping the edge of the tub as Wanda moved slowly inside, making you squirm. "More, babe. Please."

Wanda chuckles at your hopeless tone, but obeys, inserting another finger now. It slides between your edges with ease, and you bite your lips to avoid being loud. But when Wanda presses her palm against your clit as her fingers move in and out of you in a slow, torturous rhythm, you whimper, squeezing your hands on the edge of the tub until they turn white.

"You're so tight." Wanda whispers against your ear, her hot, wet breath sending shivers throughout your body. "My sexy baby taking my fingers so well."

You moan softly, becoming even more aroused by Wanda's words. She sighs against your ear, quickening the pace of her thrusts, and you begin to feel the tightness under your belly reaching the limit.

"W-wanda... I'm clos-oh" You can't maintain a coherent sentence, thrusting your hips in the same rhythm as Wanda's fingers move in and out of you, and Wanda grunts against your ear, her fingers sinking into you.

"Show me how it feels, Printsessa" She asks and you need to concentrate beyond pure pleasure to be able to share your sensations with her. When you do, Wanda moans loudly against your ear, the hand on your breast squeezing firmly, pulling you against her and making you gasp. "Is this how you feel with me, baby?” She asks with a breathless whisper. “It’s so fucking good." She whimpers, increasing the pace of her fingers, and now stimulating both you and herself, and you use your free hand to keep yourself from screaming, knowing that the noise would attract the attention of the other residents.

"I can't hold it." You whimper, your body beginning to spasm out of rhythm with the strokes, you are so close.

"So don't." She gasps back against your ear, and it's the next second that you come, your walls clenching against Wanda's fingers, and you see stars, your loud moan is muffled by her hand on your mouth when you can't keep the gesture and clench your hands under the water.

And you are barely recovering from your orgasm when Wanda reaches hers, sharing it with you, and you moan deeply, turning a complete mess against her, feeling your body explode with pleasure again.

You stand in silence, trying to normalize your breaths, Wanda's fingers slip out of you, making you sigh, but she keeps her hand on your thigh, until she joins the two at your waist, smoothing you better against her.

"I can't feel my legs." You mumble breathlessly, your body tingling completely from the intensity of the orgasms. Wanda just gives an equally affected laugh, moving one of her hands up to push her wet hair out of the front of her face.

"Too bad, I still want to taste you."

You grunt softly, feeling your face heat up. But you sure as hell won't protest when Wanda's hands start coming down again.

//-//-//-//-//-//

“It really worked.” You murmurs impressed, as you button a clear shirt up, getting ready for having some food since you and Wanda skipped lunch, being busy with things. The bruises that you once had, are all gone. A few red spots were seen, but nothing too remarkable as before.

Wanda bites her bottom lip, kneeling in the bed, still naked. The vision was a gift from heaven you could say.

“If you feel any pain, tell me.” She asks as she watches you dressing. “I could try to ease that too.”

“You’re too good for me baby.” You commented with a shy smile, getting closer to her again. Agatha liked well dressed manners, she said. That’s why almost every set of clothes she gave you had ties, and sweaters. You and Wanda teased her about being old.

And that's why you're knotting your tie, and Wanda is unbuttoning your shirt. Wait, what?

"Hey, hey." You quickly warn, holding up her fingers, as Wanda giggles with her gaze gleaming in mischief. "We can't stay here all day, sweetheart."

"Can’t we?" She retorts in a mixed tone of defiance, making a pout that makes you want to kiss her.

"You know we can't." You retort with a smile, caressing her cheek before buttoning the buttons she has opened. Wanda bites her lips as she watches you. "I can bring you something to eat, but eventually we have lessons."

"No, that's okay, I'll come down with you." She says but doesn't move from her spot, and you raise an eyebrow curiously, but Wanda was just waiting for you to finish buttoning your shirt before pulling you up by your poorly tied tie, rising to kiss you on the mouth.

You smiled against her lips, bringing one of your hands to her neck, kissing her firmly.

"Are you sure we need to go downstairs?" She murmurs breathlessly against your mouth, and you sigh.

"Maybe another ten minutes."

It takes another half hour for you to leave the room.

Wanda accompanies you, straightening your crumpled clothes before you head to the kitchen.

Fortunately, Charles had saved some lunch for you, and between smiles and stolen glances, you ate in silence.

And when Agatha asked you to join her upstairs, for her occlumency lesson, Wanda kissed you on the cheek and wished you good luck.

Agatha's private study room was dark.

Unlike the library, or Charles' offices, which were extremely cozy.

Here, you felt almost intimidated. But Agatha seemed relaxed, and you felt confident enough with your magic to enter.

"You know the fundamentals, Miss Stark, so let's not stall." She says as she walks over to one of the cabinets, working to remove her rings and place them on the wood. "Sit back and relax. And know that I'm going to try the real thing, Y/N. Just like an opponent would."

You swallow dryly, but murmur in understanding, walking over to sit in the armchair that Agatha seems to have left ready for you.

She turns around, and takes the seat in front of you. With a flick of her fingers, one of the books on the bookshelves in the room comes flying toward her, floating in the air, open at eye level.

She grumbles softly as she reads, probably checking the spells correctly, and then the book closes and returns to the bookshelf.

"In a fight, a wizard's mind can be their greatest enemy, Miss Stark." She begins, rolling up her sleeves, and you hold your breath in anticipation. "That's why you need to protect yours as best you can."

"Professor Erik taught me a few things." You mutter, but Agatha raises her eyebrow in disbelief, and you are almost offended. "Hey, I'm not that helpless."

"Is that what you think?" She challenges. "Look closer."

You frown in confusion, and try to understand what she means.

Then you notice the other figure in the corner of the room and almost jump out of your chair.

An illusion, Agatha never sat next to you, and she disappears the same second you noticed her.

"What the fuck....?"

"Illusions, Miss Stark, will be the least of your problems if the dark lord has access to your mind." Agatha warns as she moves from the shadows of the room, her hands folded on her belly, looking at you, who was still in shock from the last trick. "But I will teach you to recognize and escape false images first."

The first lesson is not easy.

Honestly, it is so exhausting that by the time Agatha frees you, you are stumbling sleepily to your room.

You fall into bed still in your study clothes, and are almost closing your eyes when Wanda walks in.

"Hey, sweetheart, aren't you going to dinner?" She asks, but you don't even open your eyes, muttering that you were going to sleep.

Wanda walks over to you, gives you a kiss on the cheek, and turns out the lights.

//-//-//

It takes another three weeks for something to happen.

Technically, a lot has actually happened.

You have learned to break illusions, create them, protect your mind from mid-level invaders, lie in a way that rings true in your mind and fools any invader.

Agatha won't admit it, but you are a very talented Occlumens.

And Wanda, is quite the opposite of that.

Charles often comments that maybe it's the power of scarlet magic, but he''s never seen someone who could manipulate the mind of others so easily. Not since Agatha, and the witch makes a sarcastic remark, but has a proud smile as she goes out to harvest carrots.

Where you are expert at protecting the mind, Wanda is at attacking it.

She doesn't have the same strength as you in blocking Agatha, but you can't invade anyone's mind without putting in a lot of effort.

"I think it's an interesting thing, actually. " Charles comments next to you, in the fourth week of studying mind magic, with the four of you sitting in the room, and Agatha in the armchair in front of you, while you have your wand raised and try to get into her thoughts. "You balance each other perfectly, you know? Y/N can protect your mind while you attack, Wanda. It's quite useful."

"Great observation, Charles." Agatha congratulates impressed, not seeming to have any difficulty blocking you even while talking to someone else.

"Does that mean I can get inside your head through her magic?" Wanda deduces in curiosity, but didn't expect anyone to confirm, her eyes glowing red and connecting with your mind.

You choke, firming your touch on your wand, and because you were already trying the spell, you manage to get into Agatha's mind without any problems with Wanda’s magic.

A small girl is running down a hallway; it's Hogwarts.

"Freak!" " Weirdo!" are the whispers of the crowds of children she is passing through.

And then the whispers change to "watch out, she's the principal' daughter" "I heard she killed that Ravenclaw boy"

A mirror. Agatha must be sixteen now, she looks young. She stares at her reflection, and then punches the glass.

"You are a disgrace to this family." A woman says in front of her as the memory fades to another, looking at her with contempt. "A scandal like this. Our coven will recommend your expulsion."

"I never wanted to be a part of this, Mama!" Agatha exclaims in a mixture of anger and hurt. "I hate those old backward women, I want to learn everything I can and -"

The slap is loud. "Rules exist to keep everyone safe, Agatha. You're too selfish to realize that."

It gets faster, the flashes. You watch Agatha grow up, study in hiding, kiss a girl behind the candy store who pushes her away when the older schoolmates laugh, you listen to the cruel comments, watch her buy the cottage, meet new people, and many colored lights, the spells she has already cast blending throughout the memories.

"Please, daughter, forgive me" She pleads in a crying voice, but Natalya looks at her with contempt. "I will do the right thing this time, please, I-"

"Swear it."

You see a flash of the day she took the perpetual vow, her hands entwined with her daughter, and then you see more quick flashes of lost moments, until you focus on the day she was alone in Magda's house again, her hand on the cheek of baby Wanda, now asleep.

"Forgive me, I have failed again."

The memory shifts, you watch Erik crying at a memorial service, many other people dressed in black beside him.

She talked to Erik about the girl, asking if he had noticed anything strange.

Visiting a mansion, your home. You see yourself, about five or six years old, playing in the backyard with your brother, the emaciated image of your father talking to her in a low tone, delivering a letter.

More unclear flashes.

Agatha writing the acceptance letters from the school that year, the name Wanda Maximoff emblazoned on the paper.

The day Wanda and Pietro enter Hogwarts, Agatha rummaging back into her old journals and books.

Agatha starts to resist then. You see two more flashes of class, before she pushes you and Wanda out of her thoughts, and you choke breathlessly, stumbling away.

The teacher gets up quickly, aggressively throwing herself at you two, and you cover Wanda with your body immediately, but she calms down, because Charles puts his arm around her waist.

"Agatha, breathe." He asks softly, and she seems to come to her senses, shaking her head, and casting an almost embarrassed look at you, before muttering apologies and leaving the room.

You and Wanda are wide-eyed, in shock at all you have seen for long seconds, as Charles sighs and moves to organize the books you had messed up when the lesson began.

"She's going to need some time." He says turning to give you a tender smile. "But don't worry, I can continue the lessons with you two. For now, I suggest a cup of tea to everyone, and we can continue tomorrow."

"S-sure, that sounds great." You mumble awkwardly, turning your face to Wanda, who looks troubled. "Everything okay?" You whisper to her, and she forces a smile, nodding.

You won't push it, so you even squeeze her hand gently before following Charles into the kitchen for tea.

//-//-//-//-//

Agatha doesn't leave her room for six whole days.

Charles just says that she is tired, and brings her meals.

You only study next to Wanda; it's not as if you can feel guilty about something she has done to you so many times.

And then, as if no time has passed, the former headmistress comes into the kitchen in travel clothes, while you are eating lunch.

"Good morning?" You exclaim in surprise, and the teacher only murmurs with a nod, picking up an apple from the fruit tray and turning toward the front door.

You exchange a confused look with Wanda before the two of you quickly stand up.

"Agatha, where are you...?"

"Hogwarts." She replies without stopping walking, as you follow her down the hallway to the exit. "Stephen has hidden the darkhold in the spiritual plane of the castle. I'll get it, and read it to Miss Maximoff as promised."

"I-" Wanda starts half uncertain, but Agatha gestures quickly.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." She clarifies. "We'll need him to perform the ritual as well. Please help Charles with the house, and if possible don't damage my vegetables."

And on the porch, she apparated.

You and Wanda stared at the empty space for a long moment.

"What just happened?" You mutter.

"Did our spell drive her insane?" She retorts back, and you sigh, turning to go back inside, and close the door, Wanda following you inside.

"I have no idea." You say. "Let's let Charles know she's gone, and try to keep him from blowing up other cauldrons while she's out."

//-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-//

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#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x yn #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagines #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy

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snifflesthemouse · 3 years

Text

There's a sense of freedom that comes with anonymity of online interactions. This sense of freedom only exists because of the fact it's difficult for the real world to catch up with you in your real life. Unless of course, you go after the wrong one.

When a person goes after someone else solely because they think differently or have a strong opposing opinion, they often do so with a false gusto and bravery that only exists in the virtual realm. Like many say online, "You'd never say that to my face." And that's true for most people... but not all people.

And because of this anonymity, that affords all internet users the freedom to say whatever, a real life concern spawns from a virtual world. This real life concern is often referred to as "doxxing" where one internet user uses what clues and resources they have available to "expose" another internet user's real life. This has happened to many people I watch on YouTube. Some have even had to involve the real life police, as well as uproot their entire lives and move because of doxxing.

For example, Murky Meg has been doxxed a couple times now. She's had her real life threatened by doxxing. Terrifyingly, she wasn't the only target threatened because the douche flutes also brought her children into it. Yes, the same people who worship the Montecito Madam and preach the mantras of "compassion and kindness" and "leave children out of this" have gone so far as to go after Murky Meg's real life and real life children. And sadly, the threats and attacks never really stop. Especially when articles like the one I wrote about make the rounds. But Murky Meg doesn't allow this all to silence her; she keeps calm and carries on regardless.

Another example involves Yankee Wally. She was targeted repeatedly over copyright infringement on her YouTube channel, as well as having her social media accounts suspended repeatedly over the last few years. And even though Yankee Wally has never pretended to be anything or anyone else than who she is in real life, people have attempted to use her past as a weapon to discredit her. Those attempts are futile, though, because Yankee Wally has always been open and honest about her life. She's also been very clear to the people watching her that she will fight back if need be.

Then there's According2Taz. While Taz has gone through the same ringer that so many others have gone through (from doxxing to threats, harassment, and verbal abuse), she has also been attacked financially. Especially when it comes to her supporting good causes. Some twat waffles have sent her £0.01 via PayPal with notes attached. Notes that are grossly abusive, calling her fat and ugly, and saying her husband is cheating on her. Others have sent requests asking her to pay them £100 with notes attacking HRH Catherine the Duchess of Cambridge and her book. Murky Meg got a similar request, as well. But the most heinous impediment coming from the Montecito Madam's extremists, involved charity. Once, when Taz was raising money for Australian wildlife affected by the wildfires; someone reported her PayPal account and those funds were held up for some time before getting released for the cause. Then, again, Taz was targeted when she was raising funds to help an elderly woman who got robbed. Yes, the very same people, who stand on custom-made soap boxes emblazoned with the Sussex monogram, did everything they possibly could to marginally disrupt charity. Yet Taz does not waiver; she keeps going.

As bad as Murky Meg, Yankee Wally, and Taz have had it, they're sadly not alone. No, they are only three examples from a plethora of examples. Of that plethora, one more example comes to mind. That example involves DanjaZone (Ashli).

Ashli, who started her YouTube channel before the whole Megxit ordeal as a way to keep in touch with family, was even the subject of a blind item from CDAN (crazy days and nights). You see, Ashli and her family lost everything they had in a horrible house fire. Rumors swirled around the fire, but the most heinous comments came from the Sussex Squad's more prominent loudmouths. Some accused Ashli of lying about the fire in an attempt to scam people for money. Others called her white trash and trailer trash. So while Ashli was going through the loss of her home and everything she owned... while she was grieving the loss of family pets and irreplaceable family mementos... while she was down and out on her luck and trying to cope with all the pain and loss... while she was going through all of the attacks from doubters saying she faked the fire or was lying, that she was trailer trash... the disciples of the Duchess were laughing and celebrating her pain as a win. Never once considering the fact that Ashli has been in recovery for years now, and the stress from the fire coupled with the heartless, feckless attacks, could in fact push her over the edge.

No, the very same people, who scream via CAPS lock on social media that critics of Meghan should "leave her alone", that her critics drove the Montecito Madam to "suicidal ideation while pregnant" could care less about Ashli's mental health. Yes, the very same people, who lodged over 50,000 OFCOM complaints against Piers Morgan because he questioned their beloved's outlandish attacks during the Oprah interview, previously found no issues with attacking Ashli during one of the hardest times in her life. Yet, Ashli picked up the pieces and never gave up or gave into their attacks.

Again, these four examples are just the tip of the hypocritical iceberg. There are countless more examples out there. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people who criticize Meghan's and Harry's behaviors can all relate. Nobody is safe or off limits from this iceberg; from Royal Rota reporters, celebrities, and politicians to regular people who aren't rich, famous, or in possession of a global platform.

Yet nobody, and I mean absolutely nobody, in the media or in journalism ever cover any of this. You can find articles galore written with the intentions of exposing "Meghan Markle Haters". Articles like the one I wrote about attacking critics and reducing us all to the stereotypes of racist, misogynist, bigot, envious, etc.

What that does is send a clear, prominent message to the people who cling to every word of the Montecito Madam. The people who cling to the wind coming from her mouth, her "close friends" or fake "palace insiders" hear those dog whistles loud and clear. The dog whistles that say "It's okay, keep attacking and hurting people. They're evil, hateful racists. They deserve the abuse. You're on the side of good. Go harder!"

When in truth, the wind they cling to coming from their beloved's mouth or mouthpieces is actually falsehoods, lies, and manifestations of grandeur that is no more real than Netflix's The Crown. No, the wind they cling to really comes from the south mouth of their beloved. But God forbid anyone hold their little cult accountable.

We cannot have a society where sensationalism trumps truth. We cannot weaponize the press and use it against people simply because they criticize the Meghan Markles of the world. It is unacceptable for the press, media platforms, or anyone with a prominent influence on society, to celebrate defenders of the Meghan Markle faith without first acknowledging the truth.

The truth, which is often dream dashing and harsh, is that "Meghan Markle Lovers" could care less about compassion, kindness, charity, children, or community. The truth is, they could care less about forgiveness or loving thy neighbors. We don't have to look to their savior figurehead to prove this to be true. We only have to look at the comments section or Twitter.

Those of us who criticize or dislike Meghan and Harry because of their behavior know all too well the truth will never be written up on the front page of the Sun, the Daily Mail, or People Magazine. The mirage of us being the racists, misogynists, or detesting haters sells papers. And the papers don't want to be in that same category.

Maybe one day the press will tell the stories of people like Murky Meg, Yankee Wally, Taz, Ashli, and countless others in an effective way that exposes the real haters in the relationship. Maybe one day, the victims of the Montecito Madam's cult following will be doxxed, exposed, and sent a new message. A message that says, "We see you for the hypocrites you are. You may repeat the preachings of your Madam like it's the new woke gospel, but you don't practice it. You're a big reason why people loathe your beloved. You make her look worse. You aren't defending her, you are condemning her. Keep it up, because we see you and we will expose you!"

If only...

#murky meg #yankeewally #according2taz #DanjaZone #megxit

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syndromealice-blog · 3 years

Text

Why Lily was a bad friend

I always read something like: Lily was a good girl, the best friend, but Snape was a Death Eater and he was obsessed.

I didn’t notice her like a character at all, she was more a neutral to me, because everyone said, that she was so good and so beautiful and so awesome. She was Harry’s mother and I understood that she is an important for Harry and to some people. But then I read The prince’s tale. Oh, well. How can I start? The first thing, that I didn’t like: she used Severus even they were a children. He told everything about Hogwarts and Wizarding World. I think that was a reason why she wanted to be his “friend”. Lily lived with her sister, who hated her and when Lily realized that she is a witch, she was happy, because now Lily has some privileges.

When Lily came to Hogwarts Express, there was a scene:

"You didn't think it was such a freak's school when you wrote to the headmaster and begged him to take you."

Petunia turned scarlet.

"Beg? I didn't beg!"

"I saw his reply. It was very kind."

"You shouldn't have read " whispered Petunia, "that was my private ¨how could you ?"

Lily gave herself away by half-glancing toward where Snape stood nearby. Petunia gasped.

"That boy found it! You and that boy have been sneaking in my room!"

"No" Now Lily was on the defensive. "Severus saw the envelope, and he couldn't believe a Muggle could have contacted Hogwarts, that's all!

Okay, now it seems, like she actually defense Severus, but no. She said, that Severus did that. Severus saw, Severus found... why? She defense herself, not Severus. I had the same situation in childhood and I defended my friend and said it was my fault. Lily literally enjoyed this moment, when she can show to her sister who is a muggle and who is a witch.

Then in Hogwarts:

"...thought we were supposed to be friends?" Snape was saying, "Best friends?"

"We are, Sev, but I don't like some of the people you're hanging round with! I'm sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he's creepy! D'you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald the other day?"

Lily had reached a pillar and leaned against it, looking up into the thin, sallow face.

"That was nothing," said Snape. "It was a laugh, that's all"

"It was Dark Magic, and if you think that's funny "

Yeah, Lily, it was a dark magic, but why you wasn’t terrifying, what James and Sirius did to your “best friend”? Or you are so good and so kind only to rich boys? Or maybe you just didn’t care.

Severus asked a logical question:

"What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?" demanded Snape. His color rose again as he said it, unable, it seemed, to hold in his resentment.

"What's Potter got to do with anything?" said Lily.

Oh, my God. Of course, you don’t know.

"They sneak out at night. There's something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?"

"He's ill," said Lily. "They say he's ill "

"Every month at the full moon?" said Snape.

"I know your theory," said Lily, and she sounded cold. "Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they're doing at night?"

He is obsessed? No, Lily, you are obsessed with defense. They bullied him all years in Hogwarts. Of course Severus hate them, it’s a normal reaction. I know, people can say, that Lily was a child, but when I was a fifteen years old, I wasn’t so stupid.

"I'm just trying to show you they're not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are."

The intensity of his gaze made her blush.

"They don't use Dark Magic, though." She dropped her voice. "And you're being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow, and James Potter saved you from whatever's down there.

“LILY, THEY TRIED TO KILL ME DOWN THERE”

They don’t use Dark Magic though

“LILY THIS MAN ON THE STREET TRYING TO RAPE A BABY”

He don’t use Dark Magic though

"I know James Potter's an arrogant toerag," she said, cutting across Snape. "I don't need you to tell me that. But Mulciber's and Avery's idea of humor is just evil. Evil, Sev. I don't understand how you can be friends with them."

A boy, who bully others not a bad, he is just a toerag. Mmmmmnmmmm

Then was a mudblood scene. She literally smiled, she didn’t help, she said: LeAvE hIm aLoNe. What? If my friend was hung upside down, I certainly wouldn't say leave him alone. I would curse the bully properly and go straight to the headmaster or at least to the teacher. Why Lily didn’t go to the headmaster or to the teachers earlier? She just didn’t care about Severus at all. Because I can’t explain, why fifteen years old girl, who sees every day, that James Potter bully her “best friend” and she does nothing. Then Severus called her a mudblood. I have one theory and I believe that’s a canon. Levicorpus was Severus’s spell. He created it. And why Lily had a successes in potions? I am sure, that Severus gave own book to her and she saw all spells. Levicorpus is non-verbal spell and no one can learn it just by hearing. So, Lily gave book to James. He read this spell and used it. If this is true (at least it seems logical), so Lily is a fucking piece of shit. She gave best friend’s book where were a hints to his bully.

Then Lily was angry and said:

Fine,' she said coolly. 'I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus.'

Later, when Severus try to apologize, she said:

To call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"

Yeah, girl. Like YOU, rich and beautiful human, said to poor, ugly friend wash your pants. It was a classism.

"It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends ¨ you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?"

Okay, if you already saw that he is so bad and awful, why you continued this “friendship” Why? Nobody actually forced you. Why? If he wasn’t good enough, just say: Sorry, but I think, I don’t want to be your friend anymore. That’s it. You literally can do this.

Three years later Lily was married with James, who was “ an arrogant toerag”. Hmmm, okay. Sirius and Remus said, that James didn’t bully anyone but Severus. Lily didn’t know about it. Sorry, I don’t believe.

Results:

Lily didn’t care about Severus and their “friendship”. She gaslighted him all the time. She saw how difficult was his childhood, she saw his abusive father and their life before school. She didn’t help when James bullied him. And no, saying LEAVE HIM ALONE is not a help. If she wanted to help, she did it. Lily used Severus in Potions, before school, when he told everything about Wizarding World and then she gave his book to his bully. She is not a friend. She is just a girl, who wanted something from Severus. And yes, everyone say: IT’S NOT HER JOB, HE BECAME TO A DEATH EATER AND USED DARK MAGIC. She knew that all the time. If this was a problem, she could leave. If she was terrified about death eaters shit, she could talk with him. She knew how difficult life he has. It’s not her job, that’s right. Or maybe she is just a shitty friend?

#harry potter #pro snape #anti snaters #severus snape #anti lily evans #anti lily potter

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amazingmaeve · 3 years

Text

Neck kisses ━ p. parkinson

─ “i love it when you kiss my neck.”

summary ─ y/n loves it when pansy kisses her neck

request ─ a pansy smut requester with the numbers 22 27 29 please 🥺

warnings ─ smut (18+)

a/n ─ love writing for pansy!

word count ─

tags ─ @chokemepansy @faerabella @amourtentiaa @inglourious-imagines

Soft kisses flutter against Y/Ns shoulder as she stares at herself in the mirror. Her hands explore Y/Ns body as she leans her head against Pansys shoulder. Y/Ns breath hitches as Pansys hands trace the top of her skirt. This wasn’t how this started with tender touches; it was much worse.

“I love it when you kiss my neck,” Y/N remembers saying to the Slytherin girl who was too preoccupied sucking and kissing her neck.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be for Y/N and Pansy. With Pansy being a pure blood with pure blood family who didn’t like muggles, which is what Y/N Y/L/N was. Pansy believed everything her parents told her, until she met Y/N. A bright witch the same age as her that made her heart flutter. Pansy didn’t know why she was feeling like that but she did.

Y/N and Pansy hated each other when they got to Hogwarts, with Pansy being friends with Draco and his little group and Y/N being friends with the golden trio. They despised each other so much that Y/N almost casted a hex on her in their third year when they were saying some crude comments about Harry.

“God I can’t believe how pathetic Potter is,” Y/N heard Pansy say loudly to his friends as she walked down the hallway. She tried her best to ignore them but they just kept getting louder and louder.

“Yeah and his mudblood friends along with the Weasley who looks like he can’t even afford the clothes on his back,” Malfoy smugly retorted looking at Y/N who’s temper just hit ten and felt like she was about to explode at the slytherins. They crossed the line when he mentioned her and Hermiones blood status.

“I know it's too bad those dementors didn’t take them away,” Pansy faked a dreamy sigh Y/N clenched her teeth walking over to the slytherins and took her wand out and pointed Malfoy but Pansy stepped in front of him. “Are you gonna hex me,” She mockingly said.

“Don’t test me Parkinson,” Y/N hissed gripping her wand tighter but deep down she knew she wouldn’t do it and she knew she shouldn’t waste her time on them but they just make her so angry.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall gasped out of shock at seeing one of her prime students about to hex one of her peers. “What is going on here,” She separated the two girls.

“She was gonna hex me,” Pansy faked a cry as crocodile tears cascaded down her cheeks. Professor McGonagall furrowed her eyebrows in confusion; she knew that Y/N wouldn’t have done this without reason but according to rules she had to be punished. Before Y/N could get a peep out McGonagall stopped her.

“Miss Y/L/N follow me,” McGonagall sternly said then walked away leaving Y/N to glare at the girl in anger before she swiftly followed behind the professor leaving smug slytherins.

That wasn’t their only fight. Over the years they kept making snide comments to each other which led to detention for both or one or the other, depending on the teacher. If it was Snape he would allow Pansy to walk off scott free and Y/N expected it with that teacher knowing he favored his own house.

The attraction towards Y/N didn’t start until their fifth year when she saw Y/N studying in the library. Butterflies erupted in Pansys stomach as she stared at the girl she detested for so long.

Pansy tried to shake that feeling off her since her parents would hate it if she got together with a muggle. But Pansy couldn’t stop staring at Y/N longingly as she studied in the library. The way that she bit her lip in concentration and she flipped the page and jotted notes down for the class. Pansy looked in awe but it soon turned to disgust as she thought the revolting things. She couldn’t like her. She spent these years hating her.

Y/N’s attraction towards Pansy started later that year (5th). She had just finished practice with Dumbledore's army and she caught Pansy looking at her. Once Pansy caught her a blush painted the cheeks of the girl who was starting which made Y/Ns stomach flutter. Why? Y/N thought to herself why is she feeling this way towards a girl she loathed for years.

It kept happening, Pansy staring at her and Y/N staring back which made Pansy look down in embarrassment.

“You’ll be doing this assignment in pairs,” Y/N heard Snape's cold voice which broke her concentration. Snape started to list off the pairs with his usual harsh tone. “.....Parkinson and Y/L/N,” Snape lists and Y/N’s head shot up when she heard her name being said. Of course it was with Parkinson. Once Snape stopped listing everyone went to their respective places while Y/N went to sit next to Pansy who had a sour look on her face.

“Don’t be so mad about it and let’s get this done and over with,” Y/N sneered a glare painted on her face as she got out her book and started to list some of the ingredients off while Pansy just rolled her eyes.

“Can’t believe I got paired with you,” Pansy muttered under her breath and even though under everything she knew that she was kind of happy to be working with Y/N but just didn’t want to admit it.

“You think I’m jumping for joy having to work with you,” Y/N says sarcasm dripping in her voice as she looks up to meet Pansys green eyes. “Because believe me I’d rather work with anyone but you,” She hissed.

For the first time in a while Pansy felt a pang in her heart. She knew she liked Y/N and hearing her say those words made her feel hurt. Like when she got in trouble for messing around with the golden trio but this made her feel even worse.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Pansy muttered her eyes focused on her paper as Y/N looked at her confused. It looked as if she had been sad but what would Parkinson be sad about, they’ve been squabbling ever since first year so why would this hurt her.

Over the next few days Pansy and Y/N have been meeting up for this project and Y/N felt like she was getting closer with the girl. They were joking around more often even though still making snide remarks. Y/N felt her heart race when she had to meet with Pansy.

Her friends often asked if she was okay working with Pansy and she always responded saying that she could handle her.

When the last sessions of them studying Y/N felt almost disappointment as almost though that she would miss working with Pansy. She met with Pansy at her dorm this time instead of her own. Everyone was gone at their classes or in the common room. But Y/N never got over the eerie feeling from the Slytherin common room.

She sat next to Pansy on her bed with green blankets as they finally had finished the assignment the Snape gave them.

“Finally,” Y/N yawned, stretching her arms, feeling her elbows crack. Pansy gave her a tight smile. Before a thought entered her mind this was the last she was going to see Y/N with nice formalities at least. So she decided to make the best out of this situation and lean in and kiss her.

The kiss surprised Y/N as she felt her kiss her, she didn’t respond at first which made Pansy retreat in disappointment but Y/N grabbed the back of her neck and gave her a kiss which surprised her. Of course Pansy kissed back as she put her hands on her hips tenderly massaging them.

The two of them caught for dominance as Pansy finally won and slipped her tongue to let it massage Y/N’s. Y/N moaned into her mouth feeling elated by this kiss. She has never kissed a girl and she has to say it's the best kiss of her life.

“Wow,” Pansy and Y/N said in unison shock going through their veins as they stared at each other with smiles. Pansy hid a smirk while Y/N shyly smiled. They both giggled and started to kiss each other again. That’s as far as it went for that a moment in time they just kissed.

Their first time was much more special.

Pansy and Y/N just kept sneaking around so nobody would catch them. Pansy stopped picking on Y/N and her friends but that didn’t stop Malfoy from doing it though. Even though on opposite sides of their friend group that didn’t stop the passionate moments between the two.

The first time was special to the both of them. It was one night where everyone went out to honeydukes leaving the two of them alone with a few wondering students who were minding their own business.

It was a magical night and after it all laid under the covers pleasured looks on their faces as they intertwined their hands smiles painting their lips. Y/N would never forget that night and neither would Pansy.

Which lead them to the almost the end of the year as they were cooped up in Pansys room where Y/N stood with Pansy behind her kissing her neck. Fingers tracing the hem of her skirt. A happy smile was draped onto Y/N’s as she enjoyed her touch. The tests this year were harder and which made her more stressed. So after every test was done Pansy and Y/N finally got some alone time.

“I just want to please you love,” Pansy whispered in Y/N’s ear making a shiver go down her spine as Pansys fingers finally seeped underneath the fabric of the skirt. Y/N was already soaking from all the teasing that Pansy had done and she smirked feeling her arousal.

“Can you feel what you’re doing to me,” Y/N whimpered as Pansy’s fingers began to circle her clothed clit. Pansy hummed feeling the wetness come in contact with her fingers. She trailed her fingers under the panties and began to softly circle the swollen nub.

Y/N moaned when Pansy made contact with the sensitive part. She hated the effect Pansy had on her. Pansy began to rub faster and faster as Y/N could feel her orgasmt about to approach.

But then abruptly Pansy stopped and removed her fingers from her panties bringing them to her own mouth sucking the juices off them.

“You taste so good love let me get a better one,” Pansy seductively smirked bringing herself to her knees pulling Y/Ns panties down and throwing them across the room and she smirked at Y/Ns shocked reaction. Pansy rubbed Y/Ns thighs soothingly as Y/N herself clench around nothing feeling herself get more aroused. “You ready princess,” She whispered letting her breath fan across her pussy. Her skirt was lifted so it covered Pansy’s head.

Once Pansy’s lips wrapped around the swollen nub Y/N moaned loudly grabbing the back of her head and pulling on her hair. She breathed and moaned loudly as Pansy kept sucking hard on her clit. She trailed her fingers to the inside of her thigh and circled her entrance as Y/N closed her eyes from the pleasure.

Pansy entered her fingers and curled them so they hit her g spot and Y/N almost lurched forward as her fingers came in contact with that spot. And all the while her lips still around the sensitive nub. But not for long as she released her lips and pushed her skirt higher so she could see Y/N’s reaction and what she was doing to her pussy. Y/N clenched around her fingers as she felt herself getting closer and closer.

Pansy kept thrusting her fingers in while her thumb made its way to her clit and began to massage the sensitive nerve.

“I’m gonna cum,” Y/N whined as Pansy rubbed her clit at the perfect pace while her fingers kept thrusting in harder and harder and still kept hitting her g spot.

“Cum all over my fingers like the dirty girl you are,” Pansy said with a smirk on her face while she kept thrust and removed her thumb and brought her lips back to her clit and began to suck as well. That’s all it took for Y/N to moan out Pansy’s name loudly and to see stars

Pansy lapped at her sensitive nerve as Y/N came down from her high. Y/N let out a happy sigh as she finally reached her high. Pansy kissed up her body and made her way towards her mouth.

She wrapped her hands around her cheek and leaned in and kissed. As Y/N kissed her she tasted herself on her lips which made her clench around nothing.

“Don’t worry love we’re not finished yet.”

#pansy parkinson smut #pansy parkinson imagine #pansy parkinson x reader #pansy parkinson #pansy x reader #pansy parkinson blurb #pansy parkinson one shot #pansy parkinson headcanon #pansy parkinson x you #pansy parkinson x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter smut #harry potter #harry potter imagine

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wlntrsldler · 4 years

Text

unrequited (draco malfoy/cedric diggory series)

PROMPT: You and Cedric grew up together. After the tragedy of the Triwizard Tournament, you’re left feeling empty without your best friend. Draco Malfoy steps into the picture. Will the feelings be reciprocated? Or will it be unrequited?

WARNINGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, angst, fluff, sadness???

PAIRING: draco malfoy x reader and cedric diggory x reader; hufflepuff reader

WC: 2.2K+

UNREQUITED MASTERLIST

PART 1

“You know you're my best friend, right?” Cedric muttered from beside you, nudging the side of your rib with his elbow. “Always will be.”

The final stage of the Triwizard tournament was creeping up behind you. It was said to be one of the most dangerous obstacles in history. Cedric acted smug about it, acting like the idea of death didn’t phase him one bit. In front of other Hufflepuffs, he let out an empty chuckle, declaring that the TriWizard cup would be home on the mantle of the Hufflepuff common room by the end of it all. But during the moments where only he and you existed in the world, his lips quivered and his breath was broken as he explained to you how much he loved you.

During Cedric’s first two years at Hogwarts, he would come home and tell you all about his year. He would teach you spells in secret and make potions with you so by the time you entered as a first-year, you were already ahead of everyone else. He would spend his days and nights with you when he wasn’t at Hogwarts. Fellow students would make fun of him for how often he would receive owls with your name attached to the back of the envelope.

Cedric was your best friend. Always will be.

“Of course, I know, you silly man.” You huffed, turning your head to face him. He was staring at you, eyes twinkling under the soft glow of the lonely moon. The air was crisp and the winds were quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the soft whispers between the two of you and if one were to focus enough, the incessant beating of Cedric’s heart rattling in his chest and the breaking of your heart in yours. “Why are you telling me this?”

He sighed, gulping down any sign of false bravado. He knew he never had to fake with you. You always did understand him, better than anyone ever could. “Y/N… Tomorrow’s obstacle is said to be deadly. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you in case it’s the last thing I’ll ever say to you.”

“Nonsense,” You replied, waving a hand in front of his face. You shook your head, not accepting the venomous words that slip past his lips. You blinked away the tears pricking your eyes, fearing that if you even let one drop slip, it might become a reality. “You’re Cedric Diggory. Nothing can break you.”

Cedric laughed a hearty laugh, startling the small animals finding sanctuary within the bushes that stayed static beside your bodies. His finger absently traced the scar on your hand, one that you got a few years back as you hid behind the Whomping Willow before you knew of its capabilities. Cedric rushed over to you once he heard you yelp in pain, a few meters away from the irritated creature. You ended up with Madam Pomfrey for a night and a half and the scar was the constant reminder you had of the memory. “Can you at least say it back?”

“Fine,” You playfully rolled your eyes, grinning at the sound of his laugh. It was your favorite thing. “You, Cedric Diggory, are my best friend. For now and for always.”

Cedric beamed and slowly started to sit up. You followed his actions and took his arm once he offered it to you. He led you a few steps towards the secret passageway that you both took most nights to get away before stopping. You cocked your head to the side, shooting him a puzzled look. He suddenly hugged you, tightly as if you were his lifeline, and mumbled incoherent, sweet, nothings into your ear. Cedric placed his chin on the top of your head, a single tear landing on your crown, making you shiver. “I’m scared, Y/N.”

You let out a broken sigh, digging your fingertips into the muscle of his back. You feel his warmth radiating on the side of your cheek, suddenly feeling wet. You hadn’t noticed the tears slipping from your eyes. It was quickly, too quickly, starting to feel like a reality. “Me too, Ced.”

“What do we have here?” A smug voice sneered from behind you. You and Hermione twisted your heads to look at the man harboring the posh voice. Malfoy. “A Hufflepuff and a mudblood. Pathetic duo, if you ask me.”

The boy was dressed in all black, a hint of emerald green in the silver pin that he sported on his vest. Crabbe and Goyle stood behind him, smiles reaching their eyes as they followed the Slytherin prince around. Draco’s hair fell perfectly to frame his face, loose strands looking intentional as they landed on the areas that made him look ethereal. It was unfair really, how beautiful Draco Malfoy was. He was like straight out of a painting; pale skin, soft hair, pink lips, that often contrasted his dark exterior and his detestable character.

“Get out of here, Malfoy.” You spat, narrowing your eyes at him. “Why are you even here? I’m sure all of us would have a lovelier time if you went on your merry way.”

“You’re a courageous little Hufflepuff, aren’t you?” He teased, words dripping with distaste. “I’ll have you know that I’m here to watch Potter crumble into pieces. Although, I’ll also settle for Diggory if it comes down to it.”

You let out an angry huff, “Oh, you little shi-”

“Y/N, don’t.” Hermione placed a hand on your shoulder, holding you back. “He’s not worth it.”

Draco chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “A mudblood telling me my worth? Comedy. Where’s your boyfriend? Did Dumbledore finally get tired of housing the neverending line of Weasley scums?” He turned to Crabbe and Goyle. “Took him long enough.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Malfoy.” Ron chirped up from behind the three boys, three butterbeers in hand. “But I’m still here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Draco rolled his eyes but left without another word, the two boys following him as soon as he took his first step. Ron took his spot beside you and Hermione, passing you the butterbeers. The three of you looked down to where Harry and Cedric stood, the two boys in deep focus before the final round started.

Cedric’s eyes wandered the arena, stopping when his met yours. He smiled, teeth uncontained behind his lips and raised a thumb up. You mirrored his actions, raising your butterbeer in celebration of him making it this far. Dumbledore called for Cedric’s attention, letting him know that it was soon to begin. He nodded and got ready. Before the sound of the cannon, he turned to look at you one last time and mouthed, “I love you.” Just as you were going to reply, the cannon went off and Cedric disappeared into the darkness.

You heard disgruntled mumbling from a few people beside you. You turned and saw Draco with his eyebrows furrowed, staring at you. His cheeks were dusted with the mellowest shade of pink when he saw that you caught him staring. He quickly turned away, bottom lip caught between his teeth. You continued to stare, unable to decipher the look on the boy’s face. His eyes darted back to look at you, awkward under your intense fascination.

“Y/N?” Hermione’s voice pulled you out of your daze. She waved her hand in front of you, growing concerned. “Hello, Y/N?”

You snapped your attention back to her, blinking a few times to adjust your view. “I’m sorry, what?”

Ron laughed, taking a sip from his butterbeer. He motioned to where Cedric stood earlier, “She asked if you finally told Cedric how you felt about him.”

You shook your head, eyes growing wide. “I told you guys. I’ll never tell Cedric how I feel. It’s not like he’ll return the feelings anyway.”

“Have you seen the way he looks at you?” She asked, a slight irritation to her voice. “Sweetheart, that’s how every girl wants to be looked at. He’s so in love with you. It always baffled me how you never noticed.”

“Hermione,” You groaned, staring at your stubborn friend. “He doesn’t look at me in any way. He sees me as his best friend, nothing more.”

“Are you bloody stupid?” Ron responded, backing Hermione up. He ran his fingers through his ginger hair, tugging at the ends in frustration. “We’ve known the two of you for a fraction of the time you two have known each other and even we can see that you two are madly in love!”

“We agree.”

You looked past Ron’s shoulder to see the Weasley twins, grinning and nodding in agreement with their brother.

“You two don’t even know Cedric.”

Fred cocked an eyebrow, “We’ll have you know, we have Potions class together. He always wants to partner with us.”

“So yes, dear Y/N. We do know Cedric.” George chimed in.

“Well perhaps you do know him,” You trailed off. “But that doesn’t mean you guys know what he’s feeling. You’re just guessing.”

“It’s not guessing when he said it himself.”

Your eyes widened at the twins’ revelation. As you were about to question the two boys, a loud commotion caught everyone’s attention. All of you turned to the source of the sound to find Draco and a shattered glass of butterbeer pooling at Crabbe’s feet. His eyes narrowed, shooting daggers in your direction.

He spat, “Are we here to gossip or are we here to watch the Triwizard tournament?”

All of you remained silent, not knowing the reason for his sudden outburst. The words that the twins let slip danced in your thoughts the entire time. Everyone’s patience ran thin as the competition seemed to drag on. People left and returned upon hearing any sign of movement. You stayed, however, no matter how long it took for anyone to come back. You looked down at your yellow sweater, the initials “C.D” embroidered on the left sleeve.

Cedric got you the sweater the summer before your first year at Hogwarts. He picked it up at a shop at Hogsmeade, in yellow, confident that you were going to be placed in the same house as him. He knew you were always scared that you were going to be separated into a different house so he did little things to put your mind at ease. ‘I’ll be by your side no matter what happens but in your heart and mine, you’ll always be a Hufflepuff.’

You smiled at the memory, rubbing your thumb over the golden thread. You looked up at the sound of shuffling feet, moving away from you. You saw Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle making their way out, growing impatient with the lack of gore, you assumed. The blond boy disappeared behind the doors, slipping away from your line of vision.

You were on your third butterbeer, eyes slowly fluttering closed when you heard an audible gasp coming from everyone in the crowd. Your eyes shot open and watched as Harry and Cedric appeared in front of everyone. Harry’s body was covering Cedric.

You stood up, wanting to get a better look. You couldn’t wait to hug Cedric and congratulate him. Then you heard someone wail. Mr. Diggory.

Your knees buckled as you heard him yell and scream as he rushed down the steps to meet Cedric. The breath was knocked out of your lungs as you leaned against the barricade for support. You felt Hermione and Ron hold you up, stopping you from falling through. You were breathing unevenly, chest rising rapidly.

“Y/N?” Mr. Diggory called, head twisting in every direction trying to look for you. “Where’s Y/N?”

You shoved Hermione and Ron away, apologizing in your head for your roughness and ran down to meet him. You tripped over your own feet a few times, eyes not being any help as tears clouded your vision. The cold air was hitting your overly bitten lips, the cracks and scars growing sensitive with each breath. You pushed past everyone and fell to your knees when you got a good look at Cedric.

“Y/N…” You heard Harry say. “I’m so sorry.”

“W-why are you apologizing, Harry?” You questioned, stuttering over your words. “He’s okay. He’ll wake up.”

You didn’t realize that Ron and Hermione followed you until you heard Hermione’s broken cry after you said those words. You turned around and saw her face buried in Ron’s shoulder, a protective arm wrapped around the small of her back.

“Y/N…” Harry tried again, reaching out for you.

You pulled away, nearly crawling over to Cedric. You leaned close to him, a broken smile on your face. You whispered, “Ced, I’m here. Wake up, Ced. You did it. Ced?”

“Y/N..”

“No!” You yelled, shaking Cedric's body. “Ced, wake up.”

“Miss Y/L/N.” Dumbledore called for you, looking down at your pleading face. His eyes pooled with tears. “He didn’t make it.”

You crumbled into Cedric’s unmoving body. His eyes were still open, blankly staring back at you. The love and adoration that once swam in his pupils were gone and replaced with a gray smoke. Death. You sobbed into his chest, clinging onto his lifeless limbs. Your piercing cries shook everyone to their core, the entire arena falling silent as Mr. Diggory wrapped his arms around you and his son.

You placed your left arm under him, clutching him closer to your body. His blood stained the embroidery of his initials on your sweater, a painful memory overpowering your once sweet one.

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afeb · 4 years

Text

Draco Malfoy - Detest

I walked aimlessly around the garden, brushing my hands over bushes and flowers. The sky was a light blue, the sun just peeping over the horizon before it dipped down completely. I came to a large fountain, a tall snake coming out the middle of the circular pond, water spouting out of its mouth.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” I turned around to see Draco standing where I had come from, hands deeply shoved in his pocket.

I rolled my eyes and sat on the edge. “A bit obvious, don’t you think?”

He chuckled and slowly began to stroll around the fountain. “Maybe, but still pretty.” He said. “Why aren’t you in the house?”

I straightened my back. “I detest this place,” I grumbled. “I only come here because my father makes me, I think he hopes I’ll join your side one day.”

Draco nodded along. “Do you think you will?”

“I’d rather die.”

“We could arrange that.”

My eyes narrowed on his before I got up, Draco following as I walked deeper into the garden. “Why aren’t you in the house?” I asked, stopping to admire a large rose bush.

He came up behind me, leaning across to gently touch the petals, chest brushing my back. “Fresh air,” he deeply breathed in, nose bumping the back of my head. “Particularly sweet today.”

“Don’t be a creep.” I scoffed as I moved on, walking along the cobbled path to a small gathering of trees.

“I’m not being a creep.” He defended, still following behind me. “So you wouldn’t join us?”

“I don’t know how else to say it.” I snapped. “I’d never join you.”

“I suppose you love Harry Potter and muggles then, do you?” He teasingly asked, rounding to stand in front of me, blocking my way.

I crossed my arms. “And what if I did?”

I kept still as he took two large steps, heading dipping down to peer into my eyes. “One night with me, Little Girl, and I’d make you forget about him soon enough.”

My mouth fell a little. “Y/N! Dear, where are you?”

I stumbled back at the sound of my fathers voice, hurrying past Draco and back to the house. He followed behind me again, humming a small in innocent tune as we went.

“Yes father?” I asked as I approached him on the grand steps outside the mansion.

“Dear, Lucius has kindly invited us to stay the night.” My father happily said, stroking my hair.

I groaned. “But father I don’t have anything to wear to bed.”

His fist tightened in my hair. “Did I ask if you wanted to stay?” He lowly asked.

I peered at my feet. “No.”

I was aware Draco was watching us. “Very well then.”

My father left, a blush creeping on my cheeks as I turned to look at Draco. Rather than a smirk I was expecting to see, he had a deep set frown on his face. He slowly climbed the stairs, his hand stroking the same part of hair my father had.

“I’m sure we have something you can wear.” He soothed.

I nodded and moved away, making my way into the mansion. Dinner was quiet, my father and Lucius talking up a storm as my mother and Narcissa were caught up in their own conversation. Draco didn’t speak to me much, simply watched me from the corner of his eye as I slowly ate the extravagant meal that had been prepared.

“Y/N,” Lucius grabbed my attention. “I’m sure a lovely girl like you had many men asking for her eyes.”

I cleared my throat. “I don’t pay attention to any of that.” I sweetly smiled.

He frowned. “Why?”

I shrugged and warily looked at my father. “There are more important things in this world than a man.”

I saw Draco smirk. “I’m sure you’ll change your mind when you meet the right person.” Lucius said. “My boy Draco here isn’t seeing anyone.”

“Nice.” I awkwardly said.

Lucius simply eyed the two of us with a small smile and went back to talking to my father. “He’s not wrong.” Draco whispered in my ear.

I turned to glare at him. “I’d rather date Lord Voldemort than you.” I snapped back.

Dracos eyes flicked down to my lips. “Sure.”

As soon as I was able to left the table, Kreatcher showing my room for the night. It was large, a fire place and four poster bed the most notable things in the room. There was a desk and chair, small sofa and expensive looking rug on the floor. It was cold and impersonal, no paintings or photos anywhere.

I sighed and sat on the bed. The door knocked. “Come in!”

My mother popped her head round. “You seemed quiet at dinner,” she noted, coming to sit beside me on the bed. “That horrible boy isn’t being nasty to you is he?”

I shook my head. “I just want to go home.”

She coaxed my hesd to rest on her shoulder, arm wrapping warmly around me. “I know, my lovely. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“I hate it here.”

“You could make friends with that boy.” She suggested. “Might be less lonely.”

“I’d rather play in that fireplace than that.” I scoffed, to which she laughed.

“It’s only one night, you’ll survive.” A swift kiss on my forehead and she was gone.

I stayed tucked away most of the night, finding and interesting book on the history of witchcraft. Kreatcher came in to drop off an old looking nightgown. It was porcelain white and came to just above my knee, the silky material feeling nice against my skin. The sun had long set, my mother coming in again to bid me goodnight before shutting the door.

I waited a couple more hours before sneaking down the desalte hallway. I gazed up at the paintings of the Malfoy and Lestrange family. All of them looked cold and uninviting. I trembled as I looked at Bellatrix before quickly going down the stairs.

I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for as my bare feet padded across the hardwood floors, just anything to occupy the time until I could lay in my own bed. The halls seemed never ending as I wandered for what felt like hours, looking over old relics and paintings that scattered the house. I found myself back in the main dining room, gazing out of the floor to ceiling windows.

“Snooping, are we?” I jumped and turned to see Draco. He was only wearing pyjama bottoms slung low on his hips, broad chest out bare.

“I couldn’t sleep.” I mumbled back as I looked out the window again, gazing at the moon.

“Why’s that?” He strolled over to me.

“I don’t trust anyone in this house.” I shortly said back.

“Believe me, I know the feeling.” He was closer now, but I didn’t dare turn to see where he was.

I jumped as a hand landed on my waist, tugging me back into his body. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to have you alone?” He darkly whispered in my ear. “And not to mention in something to revealing.”

He daintly fiddled with the thin strap of the nightgown, inching it down my arm and sponging a kiss to my bare skin. My arms remained crossed over my chest as my breathing grew heavy.

“Do you want this?” He asked lowly in my ear. When I didn’t respond he nipped my lobe. “Answer when I speak to you.”

“Yes.” I sighed, mind cloudy from the lack of sleep and Dracos voice.

He spun me around and gently cupped my face, smiling down at me before pressing his lips to mine. My hands landed on his waist as his tongue dominated mine. He led us over to the table, pressing me against it and kissing down my neck.

“Get on the table.” He ordered.

I pulled myself up and blushed as he spread my thighs, standing between them.

He hummed in my ear, I frowned as he took a seat in front of me. “Lay back and put your feet on the table.”

I did as I was told and leant back, my legs still tightly pressed together. I gasped as he pried them apart, putting me on display for his.

“Good girl,” he hummed. “No underwear.”

He simply looked at me for a moment before slowly moving in, letting his hot breath fan over me. Small, chaste kisses were pressed against my thighs, his hands still holding them apart. His tongue darted out and wet the crease between my thighs and where I wanted him.

Suddenly, he licked a bold stripe up my centre. My hand clamped round my mouth as my eyes squeezed shut, desperately trying to contain my moans. Dracos skilful tongue lightly flicked over my bundle of nerves before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. My free hand moved down to gently tug his hair, bucking my hips up to meet his lips.

He moaned against me and pinched my thighs. “God you taste better than I imagined.” He pulled away and stood, peering down at me with a glint in his eye. “Sit up.”

I looped my arms around his neck as I kissed him, tasting myself on his tongue. My hand skimmed down and rubbed over the tent that had formed in his trousers, Dracos low moan bouncing off of the walls.

“That’s is, take care of Daddy.” He said, pulling himself out and guiding my hand to stroke him.

I flicked my wrist slowly, looking at him. His eyes were squeezed closed, jaw tensing occasionally as he started to breath heavy. His hands were flexing on my waist, leaving deep indents in my skin. His eyes flicked open as his mouth gaped, lips slowly tugging into a smirk.

“I want to be inside you.” He growled, tugging my hand away.

He pulled me to the edge of the table, spreading my legs again. He pinned my arms above my head.

“Don’t move.” He warned.

I nodded and gasped as he sunk into me, moaning along with Draco. His hand came to wrap around my neck, ring offering something cool against my hot skin. My hands remained above my head, Draco moving his hips at a bruising pace.

“You like the way I fuck you, Little Girl?” He asked, squeezing my neck. I nodded. “This is my little cunt isn’t it? I get to abuse it whenever I want.”

“Daddy!” I moaned, hand breaking from where they were meant to be and wrapping around his forearm.

He chuckled darkly. “That’s it, let everyone know who your Daddy is.” He moaned. “Go on baby.”

“You’re my Daddy, Draco.” I sobbed.

“Fucking right I am.” He strained, wrapping his other hand around my neck as well. “I’m gonna cum inside you Little Girl, I’m gonna empty myself inside you.”

“Please.” I begged, his cock tipping me over the edge as I came with a small shout.

His hips stuttered, hands loosening around my neck as a deep groan left his lips. His mouth fell open as hot ropes of cum leaked into me, filling me up. He fell, head resting on my chest as he breathed deeply. My hands soothingly combed through his hair, his long arms wrapping around my middle and pulling me up to his chest.

“Merlin.” He whispered. “We definitely should have done that sooner.”

“Definitely.” I giggled.

He peered down at me with a smile, thumbs running over my lips. “Do you detest this house so much now?”

I blushed. “A certain someone made it better.”

#draco #malfoy #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #Tom #Felton #tom felton angst #tom felton fluff #Tom Felton smut #harry potter #draco malfoy fanfic #harry #potter

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drarrymybeloved · 3 years

Text

Love in a Five Part Act

my third entry for the summer writin challenge! prompt: crashing a party, trope: fake dating & craft: reverse chronology. many thanks to @the-starryknight for holding my hand through this one <3

Harry is pacing. He’s walking in tight circles in the entryway, drawing curious glances from everyone passing through. He tugs at the collar of his robes, the same ones he bought with Draco. No cravat this time, though.

Draco likes to show up to these things twenty five minutes after the indicated time – “You mustn’t seem too eager nor must you be tardy” – so Harry’s been pacing for the last twenty minutes.

His stomach is a shivering ball of nerves and there’s the slightest of tremors in his hands. He could have just written a letter, or shown up at Draco’s house, but Draco likes grand gestures and Harry’s the all-in sort of guy, so here he is. Pacing.

The main doors open just then. Harry looks up, gut tightening. Dressed in peacock blue with hints of dark green, Draco looks gorgeous. Harry’s nerves calm for a second as he takes in the familiar sight – despite everything, Draco feels like home. And then Draco’s eyes find his and the nerves are back tenfold.

Draco’s mouth drops open a bit and his brow furrows before he quickly schools his features into a polite mask. He approaches Harry and asks without preamble, “What are you doing here?”

“Attending the ball?” Harry attempts feebly. He hadn’t bothered to think of exactly what he would say to Draco. Not one of his finest ideas, in retrospect.

Draco arches one unimpressed eyebrow. “Obviously, Potter. I meant why are you here?”

“Draco,” Harry whispers, giving up on a heartfelt speech and letting the one word encompass everything he’s feeling.

Draco’s eyes widen, surprise making his mask drop. He takes an uneven breath in. “We agreed, remember? We don’t need this,” he pauses and looks around before continuing in a lower tone. “This arrangement anymore. You got what you needed and so have I.”

“Yes,” Harry agrees. “I got what I needed. But what about what I want?”

A moment passes. The silence between them stretches and swells, the din of the nearby party falling away.

“And what do you want?” Draco asks finally, his voice nothing more than a whisper. His hands are restless, the tips of his fingers coming together in patterns only he’s privy to. Harry remembers Draco doing this before, when Skeeter wrote a vicious article on how “Malfoy’s Death Eater nature” was going to “corrupt our Saviour.” He remembers wanting to catch those fluttering hands in his own, to tell Draco no one listens to Skeeter anymore, tell him that he likes having Draco around and to hell with Skeeter and her ilk.

Harry allows himself to reach out this time and gently laces his hands through Draco’s.

“This,” he says, heart pounding but voice sure. He squeezes Draco’s hands once. “For real this time.”

Slowly, a smile blooms over Draco’s face, his body relaxing. “I’ve been told I’m high maintenance,” he says slightly breathlessly.

Harry laughs, relief flooding through him. “Nothing I can’t handle, I’m sure.”

“No, you did rather well,” Draco murmurs, genuine under the banter.

Warm with fondness, Harry presses a kiss to his cheek before gesturing to the ballroom. “Shall we?” he asks, offering his arm. Draco smiles and tucks his hand securely in the crook of Harry’s elbow.

They are yet again subjected to stares that have not gotten any subtler and conversations that keep prodding at personal boundaries. But none of that matters because this time when Draco calls Harry “darling” he’s not holding anything back, and when Harry calls him “love” it’s because he wants to and not because he’s fulfilling a role.

-----

Harry steps through Draco’s Floo into his living room, letting the bright space settle the apprehension he’s been unable to shake off ever since he got Draco’s letter. He loves this room, with its neutral toned furniture interrupted with colorful cushions and throws. It suits Draco. The kitchen was more of a surprise. When he had first come here, about a week into their arrangement, Harry had been expecting modern fittings and a minimalist layout. Instead, Draco’s kitchen has exposed brick walls and buttery yellow cabinets. A honey oak table stretches through the length of the space and potted plants sit in the windowsills. Now that he knows Draco’s penchant for baking and how he likes to unwind by immersing himself in time-consuming recipes, Harry thinks nothing could suit Draco more.

“Malfoy?” Harry calls out. He’s Draco now, really, but only in the privacy of Harry’s head.

“Kitchen,” comes the answer.

“Hey,” Harry says, smiling a little at the sight of Draco in a cozy jumper bathed in warm afternoon sunlight. “Is this about the gala day after tomorrow? You think we should attend it?”

An uncertain look crosses Draco’s face before he takes a deep breath. Harry feels his smile slipping.

“Yes, I think it would be a good opportunity to meet a few people I’ve been hoping to talk with,” Draco hedges, and Harry can hear the “but” coming from a mile away. Sure enough, Draco continues. “But, I think we’ve done enough damage control, both in terms of everyone’s opinion of me and your situation with the press. I can’t keep pretending–”

He cuts himself off and presses his lips together, hands clutching the counter behind him. He’d look almost relaxed if it weren’t for the tension evident in his shoulders, his pronounced knuckles. Harry remembers kissing those knuckles, tipsy on champagne, and spinning Draco to some fast number.

“Right,” Harry says hoarsely, unable to formulate a response over the echo of “I can’t keep pretending” in his head, a mocking symphony.

He can’t think beyond the roiling in his gut and the ice pooling at the base of his spine. This was coming, it had always been coming, so why is he so surprised?

“So, that’s it then?” he asks, even though he knows the answer.

“Yes,” Draco says stiffly. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Harry nods woodenly. Manages a “You too,” before he turns and leaves.

-----

Harry hears the Floo flare from downstairs. A second later, Malfoy calls out, “Potter?”

“Yeah, up here, second floor,” Harry answers from his room, wrestling with the complicated tie – “It’a cravat, Potter, honestly” – Malfoy had him buy for the Ministry event they’re attending tonight, along with a whole new set of dress robes.

He hears an annoyed huff from near the doorway before Malfoy comes to stand behind him.

He meets Harry’s eyes through the mirror. “What on earth are you doing with that? Here, let me.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but starts to turn around. Malfoy stops him, holding onto his shoulders to make him face the mirror again.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks, steadfastly ignoring the quickening of his heartbeat at the brief contact.

Malfoy shrugs. “It’s easier this way,” he says, reaching around Harry’s chest to tie the cravat, the movement bringing him tantalisingly close to Harry.

Harry stays perfectly still, painfully aware of Malfoy’s proximity. He can feel Malfoy’s body heat, can smell his sweet vanilla scent – one tiny step backwards, and his body would be flush against Malfoy’s.

Harry closes his eyes briefly, swallowing forcefully. He opens his eyes and fixes them firmly on Malfoy’s hands in the mirror, competently manipulating the cravat with slender fingers.

Oh Merlin.

“There we go,” Malfoy tucks the cravat into Harry’s robes and smoothes his hands down Harry’s chest in a perfunctory fashion, making gooseflesh erupt all over Harry’s arms.

“Thanks,” Harry all but gasps, stepping quickly away from Malfoy, hoping he can’t see the furious blush on his cheeks. “Let’s get going then.”

It’s been a while since he’s had any good reason to attend a Ministry function, but Harry’s been to enough of them to detest the entire enterprise. He’d much rather make his donations from the safety and privacy of his own home, thank you very much. So it’s with no small amount of trepidation that Harry enters the ballroom with Malfoy on his arm.

People immediately take notice, the whispers spreading like wildfire. Harry can already feel a headache building.

“We knew they would stare – let them. I’ll do the talking, you try to look like you’re not being tortured,” Malfoy murmurs at his side, smiling charmingly at the guests they pass.

Despite himself, Harry snorts. “Who says I’m not?” he whispers back, feeling a pleasant jolt at the genuine grin Malfoy shoots him before he turns the charm back on.

As the night progresses, Harry has to admit, he’s not being tortured. It’s definitely not his idea of a fun time, but with Malfoy there, it’s at least tolerable. Each time the conversation starts heading towards Harry’s personal life, Malfoy subtly changes the topic with a well-placed enquiry.

“Would you get a glass of champagne for me, darling?” Malfoy asks, turning towards him a little, a private smile on his face. Harry’s breath hitches. The endearment is a new addition to their arrangement. But of course, it would only be natural for Malfoy to use one, especially where others could hear them.

“Sure, love,” Harry answers, not deciding to use an endearment of his own until he had already said it. Along with Malfoy’s champagne, he returns with a glass of Firewhiskey for himself, letting the spicy warmth settle his nerves.

They don’t stay for too long – Harry had been adamant on no more than an hour and a half and was surprised when Malfoy had agreed without any complaints.

“That wasn’t so bad actually,” Harry tells Malfoy as they walk towards a secluded part of the lawns to Apparate home. Their respective homes, obviously.

“Yes, it went quite well, I think,” Malfoy responds with a bright smile. “I was a little worried people might not buy us,” he gestures between them, “together, but they lapped it right up.”

Something cold and heavy sinks into Harry’s stomach, replacing the tentative warmth that was glowing through him not a minute ago. Of course. In between all the touching and the endearments and Malfoy’s surprisingly considerate nature, Harry had somehow managed to forget that this was all a show.

“Right,” Harry says, throat tight. “I think I’ll head home now, tiring night and all that.” He gives Malfoy the best approximation of a smile he can manage and Apparates away.

-----

They step out of the restaurant together, holding hands. The number of reporters camped outside had been steadily rising as Harry and Malfoy fed each other bites of food and exchanged fond looks — all carefully planned and executed of course.

The questions come hurtling at them from all sides, accompanied by bursts of camera flashes. Most of them are directed towards Harry.

"Mr. Potter, are you courting Draco Malfoy?"

"Mr. Potter, sir, did Ginevra Weasley leave you because you're interested in men?"

"Smile for the camera sir!"

“Was your relationship with Ms. Weasley a sham?”

Too much, it’s all far too much. Harry has never been good with dealing with the press, and he’s out of practice now. The flashes blind him and the questions echo oddly in his head. His chest burns with every sip of air he struggles to take.

He feels an arm snake around his waist, gripping firmly for a moment, before withdrawing to his upper back and rubbing faint circles between his shoulder blades. Malfoy steps forward, smoothly answering questions, appearing totally unruffled, while his hand continues to move over Harry's back. Harry isn't listening to a word of what Malfoy is saying. Instead, he focuses on Malfoy's hand on his back, letting the point of contact ground him, the repetitive movement soothing.

When they land on Harry's doorstep, Malfoy shoots him a curious look. His hand still rests on Harry's back — once he had answered all the questions he intended to, he'd neatly stepped back from the gaggle of reporters and Apparated them to Grimmauld right then and there.

Harry makes the mistake of looking at Malfoy. Caught up in his intense gaze and feeling a little discombobulated from the restaurant, Harry freezes. His mind is still stuck on the comfort of Malfoy’s hand on his back, of his solid grip on his waist, and his feelings are a tangled mess. Some of it must be showing on Harry’s face, because Malfoy’s expression changes and he turns more fully to Harry, the beginnings of a sentence on his lips.

Hot panic bursts in Harry’s chest. Hastily stepping away from Malfoy, he stumbles over his words. “I should, um– thanks for today, er, send me an Owl for next time,” he says, backing away towards his front door. He shuts the door before Malfoy has a chance to say anything, leaning against it for support.

-----

“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, Potter,” Malfoy insists.

Harry scoffs, turning back to stare at his tumbler of whiskey — the muggle variety. He rarely visits wizarding pubs now, not unless he wants to make the front page of the Prophet and every other godforsaken wizarding tabloid.

From the corner of his eyes, he sees Malfoy rolling his eyes.

“I know strategy hasn’t always been your strong suit, Potter, but do think for a minute. Ever since your break up with Ginevra Weasley, the media attention you receive has increased tenfold. You can’t even have a drink in peace, can you?”

Harry turns back to face Malfoy, raising a pointed brow. Disappointingly, Malfoy doesn’t take the bait.

“You want the media to stop hounding you about your love life and I want to not be undesirable number one,” he continues. “It’s a simple equation, Potter, put the two together and the solution is obvious.”

“And yet, you’re the only one who’s arrived at it,” Harry says flatly, ignoring the whisper of it could work, actually floating at the back of his head.

“Please, Potter, we both know who the smart one is in this relationship and it certainly isn’t you,” Draco says, smirking.

“I never actually agreed to this fake-dating nonsense, Malfoy.”

“Potter,” Malfoy deadpans. “It’s been, what, five months now since your relationship ended? The press isn’t going to stop any time soon. Not unless you do something about it.”

“Thrilling that you’ve been keeping count,” Harry mumbles into his glass before taking a healthy swig. Malfoy’s right and Harry knows it. He’s tried everything — polite non-answers, straightforward “no comments”, pointed silence, and even snarled insults to leave him the fuck alone. None of it worked. This might just be his only option. No, it is his only option.

Harry sighs heavily and turns to Malfoy. “You’re going to be really high-maintenance, aren’t you?”

Malfoy smiles, languid and satisfied. “You know it, darling.”

#drarry #drarry fic #2021 summer writin #fake dating #fluff and angst #getting together #drarry fic rec

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justauthoring · 3 years

Text

To Be Loved (6/?)

Prompt: Perhaps, you understand Harry Potter better then anyone else. Perhaps, it’s why, when your eyes meet his for the first time, you feel an instant connection. Perhaps, it’s why, you love him.

Based off of: The Harry Potter Series Pairing: Harry Potter x Black/Tonks!Reader, slight Fred Weasley x Black/Tonks!Reader A/N: OKAY! WE’RE FINALLY BACK!! I’m so happy to finally be continuing this series and I am so excited to see what you guys think of it -- especially come POA and on! I worked really hard on this chapter and I hope it was exactly what you guys were expecting.

Also, come the end scene with the house points, I lowered how many points Gryffindor has originally so it, you know, makes more sense.

Oh, how Ted and Andromeda would be disappointed in you.

You, who has never once acted out. You, who prided yourself on always being the best you could be. You, who had somehow found yourself wrapped up in detention with four others and for some reason, was a bit elated at the thrill of it all.

Of course, you’d never say that aloud.

Following closely behind Hermione, you eye the back of Filch with distain, rolling your eyes at his comment of “missing the old punishments” which was obviously a subtle-not-so-subtle threat. Because you highly doubted Hogwarts would ever approve of such teaching methods.

But then again, by the look of fear on Hermione’s face -- who were you to truly know?

“You’ll be serving detention with Hagrid tonight.” Filch explains, just as the group of you reach his hut, Hagrid himself stepping out. “He’s got a little job to do inside the Dark Forest.”

Maybe you were wrong about Hogwarts’ teaching methods after all...

“A sorry lot, this, Hagrid,” Filch calls sharply.

Glancing up at Hagrid, you frown at his lack of a reaction.

“Good God,” Filch huffs, exasperated, “you’re not still on about that bloody dragon, are you?”

You absolutely hate the smug look on Malfoy’s face.

“Norbit’s gone,” Hagrid sniffles, “Dumbledore sent him off to Romania to live in a colony.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Hermione doubts, shaking her head in confusion. “He’s with his own kind.”

“Yeah, but what if he don’t like Romania?”

Lips parting, you frown -- you guess, that was, sort of, hard logic to argue with.

“What if the other dragons are mean to him? He’s only a baby after all.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Filch cuts in, disgusted, “pull yourself together. You’re going into the forest, after all. Got to have your wits about you.”

You share a nervous look with Hermione.

“The forest?” Draco calls, all squeaky-voiced and panicked. “I thought that was a joke. We can’t go in there. Students aren’t allowed. And there are...” On que, just as Draco pauses, you hear a distant wolf howling. “...werewolves.”

You roll your eyes. Figures he’d be a coward when he came down to it. All talk.

“There’s more than werewolves in those trees. You can be sure of that.” And after a dramatic pause, Filch steps forward with the intent to leave. “Nighty-night.”

You turn to Hagrid expectantly.

“Right. Let’s go.”

Hagrid had split you off with Draco and Harry and while you detested having to be with Malfoy, it wasn’t so bad with Harry there too. You simply ignored the boy as he rattled off about his this was ridiculous and ‘servants work’ -- you’re sure he makes some sort of comment about ‘wait till my father hears about this’ but you don’t much care either way.

You stick close to Harry, keeping one hand on Fang along the way. Even if he was ‘a bloody coward’ as Hagrid so kindly put it, it felt nicer having him by yourself.

But the calm only lasts so long -- or what could be considered ‘calm’. The three of you halt to a stop at the sound of Fang barking, the action causing you to jump violently, your attention instantly being stolen by the sight before you. The injured unicorn Hagrid had sent you all off in search of, clearly dead now, with a cloaked, hidden figure hovering over him.

You blink, head turning towards Harry when he lets out a cry of pain. Your eyes widen when you realize he’s touching his scar.

“Harry, what’s--”

But you’re cut off by Draco screaming, loudly, and running off in the next second. Fang follows him, and the loss of him next to you causes you to let out a light whimper of fear, turning back in the direction of the hooded figure only to find it now looking directly in yours and Harry’s direction.

You stumble back, expecting Harry to follow you and the both of you to run off together. But Harry doesn’t ever break out into a run.

“Harry!” You whisper harshly, just as the cloak figures moves, almost gliding towards the two of you -- though it’s clear to both you and Harry, that he’s after him and not you. “Harry, we have to go!”

You pull on the sleeve of his cloak and he stumbles back, crashing into you. The two of you lose your footing, and a scream tears past your lips as you crash into the forest floor, eyes widening in terror when you realize just how close the figure has gotten.

But it does make it closer then that. In the next second, the sounds of hooves rattling echo above the both of you, and then there’s a massive shadow gliding over the top of your heads, landing directly in front of you -- thus blocking the hooded figures path to you and Harry.

Your eyes widen when the centaur easily scares it off.

Harry turns to look at you, and you share a baffled look back at him, just as lost. He stands, helping you up to your feet just as the centaur starts making his way towards the both of you.

“Harry Potter,” and you blink, “you and your friend must leave. Many creatures know you here. The forest is not safe for the both of you at this time. Especially for you.”

“But...” Harry whispers, astonished. “What was that thing you saved us from?”

“A monstrous creature,” he says simply, “it is a terrible crime to slay a unicorn.”

He gestures to the slain creature, and you frown at the sight of it.

“Drinking it’s blood will keep you alive even if you are an inch from death. But at a terrible price. For you have slain something so pure...that the moment the blood touches your lips, you will have a half-life--”

“A cursed life,” you finish, causing both pairs of eyes to fall on you. Flushing, you shrink into yourself. “Sorry,” you eye Harry, before turning to the centaur. “Something a friend told me once.”

“You are right,” the centaur nods gently in your direction.

“Who would choose such a life?” Harry whispers.

“Can you think of no one?”

“Do you mean to say that that thing that killed the unicorn...that was drinking it’s blood, that was Voldemort?”

You gasp at the sound of the name, “harry!”

“What?” He turns to you, wide-eyed.

“You can’t just--”

“Do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?” The centaur interrupts you, leaning so he’s right before the both of you.

And then it dawns on you, and by the look on Harry’s face, he’s realized it too.

“The Philosopher’s Stone.”

“--Harry!”

You blink at the sight of Hagrid and the rest.

“Hello there, Firenze,” Hagrid greets. “See you’ve met our young Mr. Potter. And of course, Ms. Tonks. You all right there, you two?”

Glancing at Harry, the both of you quickly nod at Hagrid.

“Harry Potter,” Firenze calls, stepping towards him, “this is where I leave you. You’re safe now,” he turns to you, smiling gently. “The both of you. Good luck.”

You watch in astonishment as he turns, galloping off.

“I’ve always heard Hogwart’s final exams with frightful, but I found that quite fun.”

Laughing gently at Hermione, you shake your head.

“Speak for yourself,” Ron snorts, before his attention is stolen by Harry. “All right there, Harry?”

Glancing past Hermione’s shoulder, you frown at the sight of the boy holding a hand to his scar much like he had that night in the forest.

“My scar,” he whispers, “it keeps burning.”

Frowning, you speak up; “it’s happened before.”

“Not like this,” Harry argues.

“You should see the nurse.”

“I think it’s a warning. It means danger’s coming.”

Just as he finishes speaking, Harry comes to a slow stop.

The rest of you follow, glancing at each other curiously. But before either of you can say anything, Harry’s mumbling to himself; “of course...” and then, he’s suddenly rushing forward. Right towards Hagrid.

“What is it?”

“Don’t you find it odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon...and a strange just happens to have one? I mean, how many people wander around with dragon eggs? Why didn’t I see it before?”

Equally as panicked as him, the four of you break out into a run, directly for Hagrid.

“Hagrid,” Harry calls, wasting no time for greetings. “Who gave you the dragon egg? What did he look like?”

“I don’t know,” Hagrid shrugs, baffled. “I never saw his face. He kept his hood up.”

Your eyes widen, turning to Harry; “just like in the forest.”

“You and this stranger must of talked,” Harry continues, nodding at you.

“Well,” Hagrid slows starts, recalling the moment. “He wanted to know what sort of creatures I looked after. I told him, “after Fluffy, a dragon’s gonna be no problem’.”

“Did he seem interested in Fluffy?”

“Of course he was interested. How often do you come across a three-headed dog? But I told him, ‘the trick with any beast is to know how to calm him’. Take Fluffy, for example. Play him music and he falls straight to sleep.”

The four of you look at each -- he just gave it away.

“I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“Do you think Ron and Hermione will be alright?”

“Yes,” Harry says quickly -- and it’s almost so quick, it sounds like he’s try to convince the both of you that it’s true. After that game of wizard’s chess, you were worried about Ron, and while you admired Hermione’s bravery and selflessness to stay back with him, you couldn’t help but worry at the idea of the four of you being separated.

Pausing to look at you, Harry nods; “they have to be.”

You nod at him, smiling faintly.

Then, the two of you stop in front of a door.

“What do you reckon’s next?”

“Quirrell and Snape are what’s left,” you whisper, shaking your head. “So, honestly, no idea.”

Harry let’s his hand fall on the handle, turning to you; “all right?”

You nod, “go on.”

He pushes it open and almost instantly a foul floods you. You pull at the sleeve of your sweater, pulling it over your nose to block the smell. Harry does the same, and the both of you eye the huge troll, with a bloody lump on it’s head with watering eyes. It was even bigger then the one from the bathroom.

“Quirrell,” you gasp, eyeing it with disgust.

“I’m glad we don’t have to fight that one,” Harry comments, pulling at your sleeve. “Come on, let’s go.”

The two of you quickly slip into the next room, staying as quiet as possible not to wake the troll. A sense of relief floods you as the foul smell no longer is invading your senses and you brace yourself for what’s next, only to find yourself puzzled by the lack of anything frightening. Just seven vials lined before you.

You take a step forward, and Harry follows, then, instantly a whooshing sound echoes.

You jump, glancing behind you, you eye the fire that now blocks the way you’d came with bafflement. It’s purple, not orange like a normal fire. And, glancing ahead of yourself, a black fire traps the both of you inside from the other end.

“Snape’s,” Harry says, “what do we do?”

“I...--” You eye the room with puzzlement, before noticed the scroll laying next to the bottles. “There,” you call, stepping forward and quickly unrolling the paper. Harry steps closer to you, leaning over your shoulder to read.

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, Two of us will help you, whichever you would find, One among us seven will let you move ahead, Another will transport the drinker back instead, Two among our number hold only nettle wine, Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line. Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore, To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: First, however slyly the poison tries to hide You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side; Second, different are those who stand at either end, But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend; Third, as you see clearly, all are different size, Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides; Fourth, the second left and the second on the right Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

“It’s a puzzle,” you mumble and Harry turns to you. “Purely logic,” you further explain. “A lot of wizards don’t have an ounce of logic, meaning they’d be trapped here forever.”

Harry huffs, shoulders falling. “So will we.”

You shake your head, swallowing thickly. “I think... I think I can work it out,” you say softly, not trusting your own self.

What if you couldn’t?

“Give me a minute.”

Three minutes later and you let out a cry of frustration, Harry turns to you in panic.

“I need Hermione,” you cry, turning to him with a shake of your head. “She’d know what to do. She’s smarter then I--”

“Hey, that’s not true,” Harry cuts in, surprising you. “You’re just as smart as she is.”

“Harry,” you sigh, shaking your head. “You know that’s not true. Hermione knows everything about everything, she’d be able to figure this out. Just like she was able to figure out the Devil’s snare. You and Ron too. You got the key, and Ron beat the Wizard’s chess, I haven’t--”

“What happened before doesn’t matter,” Harry cuts in, stepping towards you, setting his hands on your shoulders and squeezing them reassuringly. “This is now, and I know you can figure this out.”

Eyeing Harry, you hesitate a moment before nodding.

Five minutes later and the solution comes to you.

“I got it!” You exclaim, Harry instantly rushing towards you. “The smallest bottle,” you point at it, “will get us through the fire. Towards the stone. There’s only enough for you, that’s hardly one swallow.”

“Which one will get you back though the purple fire?”

You point at the bottle.

“Drink that,” Harry nods at you, continuing before you can argue. “Find Ron and Hermione, help them get Dumbledore. I’ll be able to hold off Snape, but I’m not match for him.”

“But... Harry,” you whisper, frowning up at him. “What if... he’s...?”

“I was lucky once before.”

And then your body moves on it’s own, surged with fear and terror for him, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Almost immediately, you recoil. cheeks burning and a quick glance at Harry and his cheeks are just as red.

There’s a pause, the both of you not sure what to do, before Harry is mumbling; “you go first,” he coughs gently. “Make sure you get through. You’re positive you have the riddle right?”

Swallowing thickly, you nod; “yes.”

“Okay, go.”

And you drink the bottle, wincing at the burning feeling that floods down the back of your throat. “It’s not poison,” you mumble, “just... cold.”

Harry nods. “Okay, go, before it wears off.”

You eye him one last time, carefully. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

Turning from the twins with a bright smile, you fall silent, as does the rest of grand hall at the sound of glass dinking. All eyes fall to the head table, where you notice Dumbledore standing up.

“Another year gone,” he starts, “and now, as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding.”

Eyeing Harry, Ron and Hermione, you frown.

“And as I understand it,” Dumbledore continues, “the points stand thus; in fourth place, Gryffindor with two-hundred-and-sixty-two points.” An echo of claps surround you, but your face falls with disappointment. Nothing like your house cup coming in last your first year, and undoubtedly because of you and your friends...

You don’t think your father would be so proud of that.

“Third place, Hufflepuff with three-hundred-and-fifty-two points,” raising your hands, you clap. “In second place... Ravenclaw with four-hundred-and-twenty-six points. And in first place,” letting out a sigh, you frown as you wait the inevitable. “...with four-hundred-and-seventy-two points, Slytherin house.”

Letting your head fall into your hand, you make careful watch not to look at the Slytherin table as they burst out in excitement, claps and cheering.

“Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin. Well done.” Dumbledore acknowledges. “However,” and at this, you pause, brows furrowing. “Recent events must be taken into account. And I have a few last-minute points to award.”

Turning to Ron, you both share a look of hope and curiosity.

“To Miss Hermione Granger, for the cool use of intellect...while others were in grave peril...fifty points.” Smiling brightly, you turn to Hermione, bringing her in for a quick hug as her cheeks warm faintly, smiling widely herself.

“That’s amazing,” you whisper, nodding at her warmly.

“Second, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess...that Hogwarts has seen these many years, fifty points.”

Eyes twinkling, you clap for Ron, as he turns to look at the three of you in astonishment.

“And third, to Miss Y/N Tonks,” and you pause at the sound of your name, wide-eyes turning to Dumbledore as he smiles gently at you. “For her will of strength and cunning loyalty to her friends, fifty points.” Blushing faintly, your eyes lower as cheering erupts around you once more, this time for you. The twins reach across to excitedly shake you, while the rest cheer for you.

And along the way, your gaze meets Harry’s and he’s smiling brightly at you.

“And,” Dumbledore starts, “to Mr. Harry Potter...for pure nerve and outstanding courage...I award Gryffindor house sixty points.”

“Amazing job, Harry,” you call to him brightly, clapping for him..

“We’re tied with Slytherin,” Hermione reminds, leaning forward to eye the three of you excitedly.

“And finally, it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies...but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I award ten points...to Neville Longbottom.”

At that, the entire Gryffindor table erupts into loud cheering, all for Neville who stares back in astonishment.

“Assuming that my calculations are correct...I believe that a change of decoration is in order.” He claps once, and you look up with a bright smile as the green Slytherin banners from above turn red for Gryffindor. “Gryffindor wins the house cup.”

Standing up, you share bright, excited smiles with the rest of your fellow Gryffindor’s, following suit as you all throw your hats up into the air.

“You’ll make sure to write to me, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course, ‘Mione.” You smile brightly, nodding at her. “I won’t forget.”

“Okay,” she smiles, all bright-eyed and excited. “See you next year?”

“See you next year.”

You share one final goodbye, hugging her tightly before she’s turning, heading off to where her parents await -- looking both confused and still amazed by everything around them. You watch with a laugh, before turning in search of Andromeda and Ted. Along the way, you find Ron and his family, sending the boy a wave to which he easily reciprocates.

This of course catches the attention of the twins, and with goofy grins they wave at you too, causing you to laugh.

And then, you catch sight of Ted and Andromeda, and you move to rush off towards them, before you notice Harry. He’s with his uncle and aunt, and remembering the distasteful stories he’d told you about them, you make the quick decision to bound over to him.

“Harry!”

He turns at the sound of your voice, blinking at the sight of you before sending a nervous look back at his uncle.

Coming to a stop before him, slightly breathless, you smile. “I just wanted to say goodbye,” you whisper gently, stepping towards him. “And I’ll make sure to write you over the summer as well.”

“Really?” And his eyes light up with excitement at that, “I’d like that.”

“Okay,” you nod, stomach fluttering. “Have a good summer.”

“You too,” Harry nods, waving at you as you step back, turning towards Andromeda and Ted.

Reaching them, you grin brightly up at them.

Ted grins at you; “take it you had a first good year?”

“It was...” And as you move to finish, your gaze falls behind you, on Harry. “Wonderful.”

Part 7?

TAGLIST: @storiesbystarlight - @scattered-mood - @tinymidgetsstuff - @itsfangirlmendes - @im-a-totally-random-person - @slytherinwriter618 - @bloodorangemoonlight - @subjecta13-thefangirl - @areallydrypie - @euphorictulip - @missmulti - @tinytommyshelby - @you-bleed-to-know-youre-alivee - @divergenttribute33qrunnerslytherin - @flaming-keys - @xsiredstyles - @silver-stilinski - @sweetheartliz07 - @bljndbeths - @justanotherfangirl2015 - @iilwdobyayy - @noxceleste - @gredandforges - @moonxxstxr - @sarablog10 - @schnapped - @officiallydarkgeek - @jovialcat123 - @justfangirling - @dubugf - @galacticstxrdust - @lovelyhufflepuff38 - @thequeenofpataos - @pieces-by-me - @kobachi-chan - @ezgithchaotic - @anscombecat - @depressed-teen-needs-her-coffee - @mcrvellouslystcrk - @yuptha-tsme - @euphoniumpets - @vxxn128 - @blisfvll - @stilesslove - @briargardens - @izzytheninja - @pepelachanel - @ikeamafiaisfunky - @eleven-bycrs - @villanqe - @abelbai000 - @stilinskiswritings - @im-an-angel-of-the-lord-you-ass - @awkwardnesshabitat - @celyndavies - @moonliightbabes - @figlia–della–luna - @nartassenav - @yoongisdumplingcheeks - @huffledor-able541 - @socialflake- @thatbandchick39 - @justanotherrandomlonlyfangirl - @missryerye if you’d like to be tagged, just send me an ask!

#Harry Potter #Harry Potter imagine #Harry Potter x reader #Harry imagine #Harry x reader #Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone #Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone #Harry Potter rewrite #Daniel Radcliffe #Daniel Radcliffe imagine #Daniel Radcliffe x reader #Fred Weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Sirius Black #Sirius Blake imagine

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

Note

OK, I know this will probably be painful, and I may be a bad mutual for asking but...would you be willing to identify what, in your opinion are the bottom five worst Shadow adaptations, and give a detailed breakdown of why they were so lousy?

Oh christ, okay. I don't think you're gonna get as much of a detailed breakdown for these compared to some of the others, because I take more issue with adaptations that do have good qualities but also big or deep problems to talk about.

For example, I can't include Garth Ennis's Shadow in this list because the comic has a lot of strong points to it, despite a deeply, deeply detestable take on The Shadow's character, where as the rest of the Dynamite run doesn't reach neither the lows or highs of his run. Likewise, Andy Helfer's run has a couple or a couple dozen moments every issue that make me want to tear something to shreds in frustration, but it's also at many points a really good comic with great art and some occasionally very inspired writing. Really, I'd just be repeating myself talking about what I hate in those.

But, fine, let's list some of the others.

I think I'm just gonna have to get the elephant in the room out of the way here, and address that I won't be including Si Spurrier's 2017 Dynamite mini in this list, and I think at least some of you might be angry it's not Number 1 by default. I'm doing this because I intend to one day really revisit it, think about it and it's reception and what it was trying to do, and talk about it on it's own, now that it's been 5 years and everyone has moved on and we can maybe talk about it without kneejerk hatred driving everyone nuts (your mileage may vary on how warranted it was).

I'm also not going to be talking about James Patterson's new novel, because I haven't read it. It seems to be considered a forgettable potboiler by mainstream critics and a resounding failure by everyone who likes the character whether they've read the book or not, and frankly I don't have it in me to learn what the fuzz was about anytime soon, I got my hands way too full as is.

And I won't be including the Batman x Shadow crossovers here, because again, they do have a lot of virtues that put them far ahead of some of the really worst Shadow media, and I've talked enough about how badly I think they mangled The Shadow, which is really the big problem I have with them (well, that and Tim Sale blatantly copying a Michael Kaluta cover, that was really shitty). I don't really hate them anymore, I just get tired and frustrated thinking about parts of them, I said my piece as is. Really, my frustration over this comic is what inspired me to start writing about The Shadow here, so I guess in a way I do owe it at least that much.

5: Archie Comics's Shadow

I think some of you might be wondering why this isn't ranked higher, but to be honest, I don't actually harbor any hatred towards this. I mean, I have to include it, but I find it kinda silly that some people even today actually care about the existence of this comic enough to hate it.

For fans back then? Oh yeah, obviously, but this dropped to such instantaneous backlash that it never really got to live past 6 issues. Really, everything wrong about it can be understood immediately from the covers, and I've actually read the comic in it's entirety to see if there was anything worth taking. I found only a couple of things of note but, no, this really is just a painfully mediocre superhero comic that happens to have a couple of Shadow names in it. If anything, it gets too much credit.

The actual contents of what it is are never going to justify it's reputation, but the existence of it and the disproportionate response to it is the funniest and most enduring legacy it could ever ask for. This whole comic is The Shadow's version of Spongebob's embarassing Christmas photo.

4: David Liss's The Shadow Now

This is another "The Shadow as an immortal in modern times" comic and I think you may have noticed the pattern with those by now. I may revisit this eventually and I do have some moments from it saved for reference, but overall: It sucks, and it doesn't even suck in a way that lets me talk much about it, it's a diet version of Chaykin's Shadow. If Archie's Shadow is a generic mediocre superhero comic wearing The Shadow's name, this is a generic crime story playing beats from movie. The Shadow is an asshole and not even a grandiose or sinister one, he just feels like a sleazy douche in a costume. The art is a 50/50 coin toss between appropriately moody and "Google images with a filter on them", I don't remember anything about the plot other than Khan had a bomb again and he had a daughter, and there were new versions of the agents and the Harry stand-in turned evil and Lamont shacked up with Margo's descendant which, uh, no. I don't really hate this but I really have nothing nice to say about this comic other than Colton Worley's art is nice sometimes. I can't really muster anything else to say here.

3: Invisible Avenger

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

ZZZZZZZZZZZZ

ZZZZZZZZZZ...

...uuh, wha-

Yeah, I remember nothing about this one other than it's painfully boring and nothing about it, nothing at all, works in the slightest and I drift off to sleep even now trying to give this a rewatch. To be honest pretty much every other Shadow serial not starred by Victor Jory sucks and I don't really have anything to say about them, this one is just the worst of the lot. I dearly wish there was a good Shadow tv series but, if it was going to be like this pilot? Good riddance.

2: Harlan Ellison's The New York Review of Bird

This isn't really a Shadow story as much as it's a Harlan Ellison story that happens to feature The Shadow, but man am I glad that Ellison's "Dragon Shadows" was canned, because holy shit what a goddamn nightmare Harlan Ellison writing The Shadow for real could have been, going purely by the one time he ever touched the character. New York Review of Bird is a purely farcical parody story that wears real, real thin even before "Uncle Kent" shows up, and we get to see in it what is by far the most detestable and irredeemable take on The Shadow ever put on print, and not even in a critique or deconstructive way or anything that could be remotely worth discussing.

I don't hold any particular affection for Harlan Ellison and his writing (despite liking some of it) and I've come to notice the major red flag that is finding someone who looks up to Harlan Ellison in any capacity as a person, and this story in particular really feels like Ellison aggressively trying to channel his jackass tendencies through every line, just him being nasty because he built a personal brand on being nasty. The only reason this isn't Number One is because it's a very short story that saw zero influence or reputation, and thus it only exists as a brief mention in The Shadow wiki, and a brief mention is all it really calls for.

1: Howard Chaykin's Blood & Judgment

I'm guessing most of you already knew this one was in the top spot before I started writing.

I would actually rather not write a big piece on Blood & Judgment, because I think (or at least I hope) it's influence on The Shadow has waned a lot over the years and I would prefer to draw it the least amount of attention possible, but if I HAVE to talk about this, I guess I'd rather just vomit this out of my circuits now instead of giving it it's own post.

I would prefer to use a less unpleasant image on my blog, but if I'm going to talk about this comic, there's no image to better convey it than this drawing of macho asshole Cranston holding a sexualized mannequin at gunpoint. By leaps and bounds, Blood & Judgment is the most misogynistic Shadow story I've ever read. It's ironic that Chaykin justified the rampant misogyny he gave The Shadow with the idea that this is just a man from the 30s would act like, when he admits in the same breath that he never even touched the stories, and he wrote a story more sexist and demeaning to it's female characters than anything, literally anything, written in the Shadow pulps. It's almost impressive even.

I'll paste some segments from Randy Raynaldo's review

In Flagg, he intended to present his own point of view on American society while keeping his work tongue in cheek and acessible. But this vision dimmed, and Flagg had become a vehicle by which Chaykin could play out fetishes and portray gratuitous and stylish violence.

In The Shadow, stripped of the political and social veneer which was supposed to make Flagg unique, Chaykin's sensibilities and excesses become disturbingly apparent. For all of his liberal posturing, Chaykin's work demonstrates zero difference from the same kind of mentality exploited and made popular by similarly violent popular culture icons like Dirty Harry and Death Wish.

More than half a dozen individuals are indiscriminately and violently murdered in the first issue. Although the victims are characters who played major roles in the myth of The Shadow, we feel little sympathy for them, even for those of us who knew these characters at the outset. Who dies is unimportant, it's how they die that is the fascination.

Chaykin uses sexual decadence as a means by which to establish villains, and undercuts this device by making the protagonists as promiscuous as the villains. For all of Chaykin's seemingly liberal leanings, he demonstrates very little sensitivity in his portrayal of women.

Because everything works on rules of three, this comic also follows the pattern with other works mentioned here, as this isn't Howard Chaykin writing The Shadow: it's The Shadow reimagined as a Howard Chaykin character. He looks and acts exactly like Reuben Flagg and the typical macho protagonist of Chaykin's other works, he's a cynical sleaze with an entirely new origin who half-assedly dons a garb to machine gun people, and I already wrote a separate piece on why the machineguns are kind of emblematic of everything wrong with this take.

I understand that Chaykin has, or used to have, a big following of sorts, and I've tried to wrap my head around this for years, but I genuinely still don't get why Shadow fans stomach this comic unless they happen to be Chaykin fans first and foremost, I really don't. Everything, fucking everything Shadow fans hate about modern depictions of the character can be traced right back to this. The parts that stuck and changed the character for the worse, like him being defined as an immortal, bloodthirsty warmonger who got all his skills and powers from a magic city in Tibet, or Lamont Cranston being a coward who fears and hates the Shadow, or his agents being expendable slaves, stuff that has been ingrained into the mythos through this and the Alec Baldwin movie and other comics, to the point that people now think of it as the norm, that it's the baseline of what The Shadow is, and I hate it, I genuinely fucking hate it,

I hate it so much that it's a big part of the reason why I created this blog and why I want so badly to get to write The Shadow, because I plainly couldn't stand not having ways to tell people that this is all wrong, that this is actively shooting down the character's odds for success, and that they are missing out on something really great, because the well has been tainted with garbage that won't go away and everytime I read the words Shambala in a Shadow comic, even an otherwise good or great one, I get just a wee bit cross.

The only semi-redeeming aspects I can think of for this comic is one or two cool moments, like when The Shadow hijacks a concert using his Devil's Whisper or when he tames dogs with a stare. Just breadcrumbs of "not garbage" amidst an ocean of anything but. I hate that talking about why I hate this comic in-length can almost feel like I'm still enticing people to check it out of curiosity, but if you wanna do that, fine, just know this: The worst part of Blood & Judgment, even if you don't care at all about what it did to The Shadow, is that it's boring.

It is a deeply boring comic. If you like Howard Chaykin to begin with, you'll probably like this okay (although even Chaykin fans told me that this is his weakest work and that even he seems to agree). If you don't, I plain don't see what you could get out of this.

The comic itself is just nothing. It's the comic book equivalent of a pre-schooler trying to get a reaction by swearing. It has nothing whatsoever other than half-assed attempts at shock value. The plot isn't there, the ideas are stale, the dialogue is needlessly oblique and comprised entirely of unfinished sentences, interrupted conversations and one-liners without build-up. The characters are all unlikable and uninteresting stooges with no personality, or joyless cartoons. There's no heart or emotion or logic, and it isn't even funny enough to succeed as just an outrageous exercise in 80s excess. There's nothing in here.

I get "why" it was popular enough at the time, a rising star creator penning a modern revival of an old character based on controversy that pissed off the old fans, it's an old story that still gets repeated today. But manufactured controversy is not a replacement for storytelling and it rarely ever exists to benefit the people who actually want to enjoy the stories, it only benefits those for the crude benefit of those who want to sell you something out of the controversy.

I guess they got their money's worth back then.

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

Phew, okay, I did it, I finally vomited out a piece on Blood & Judgment and some others, allright, let's put this piece of negativity behind us now.

#replies tag #the shadow #pulp heroes #shadow comics #shadow films #dc comics

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snifflesthemouse · 3 years

Text

This morning, I read an article titled “I went undercover in the sinister world of Meghan Markle hate accounts" posted to Refinery 29. The title gives the impression of a journalist disguising one’s self as a “Meghan Markle hater” for the sake of getting to the bottom of something. However, the content of the article is nothing like its title.

Before I go further, let me stress the importance of perspective. My post isn’t an attack on the article’s author. I’ve never even heard of the author before now, and I’ve no right or reason to attack a perfect stranger because I vehemently disagree with the content of their work. Making assumptions about someone solely on what they write is lazy and sloppy in my opinion. I may be lazy and sloppy, but a hypocrite I try not to be. Therefore, go forward remembering my issues are with content, not creator.

The article starts out explaining the origins of the term “Megxit”. It continues with other hashtags, conspiracy theories, and so on. The article even mentions various media platforms “attacking" the Duchess, as well as crude posts witnessed by the author.

Then the name dropping begins. First with Murky Meg, then Sue Blackhurst, then According2Taz, then Skippyv20 on Tumblr, then Yankee Wally. Eventually, names of Royal Rota journalists are dropped. Then people like Angela Levin and Omid Scobie get mentioned, with interviews from the latter. Instead of an undercover sting, we get a “Who’s Who" of Megxit, a few anonymous Sussex Squad quotations, and Omid trying his best to be fair.

What this article accomplishes is very little when it comes to objectivity. The title is a misconception, and the content essentially paints targets on the backs of the people the author carelessly considers “Meghan Markle Haters". The article reduces anyone who disagrees with Meghan’s behavior as racist, misogynist, conspiracy theorist nutters. So, not only is the content of the article sloppy and lazy, it also lacks originality. We’ve all heard this sad song-and-dance number a million times.

I guess at face value, it becomes very easy, effortless really, for outsiders looking in to reduce an entire group of people with similar views to the basic stereotypes as old as time. It takes very little thought, consideration, or critical analysis, to assume things because they seem to correlate. But correlation is not causation. Just because some people opposing of Meghan Markle’s behavior happen to be racist doesn’t mean every single opposing person is also racist. Again, lazy and sloppy.

Just like assuming every single Meghan Markle fan is also vegan, anti-monarchy, feminist, woke warriors is downright sloppy and lazy. This author has personally interacted with and found common ground with Sussex Squad people many times. Some even became social media friends. They believe what they do, and I believe what I do. We do not agree with most things regarding Harry and Meghan, but we do agree to disagree and be civil.

So, contrary to the article, not all people “hate" Meghan Markle just because they detest her behavior. It’s important to remember extremes exist for all spectrums. Every topic, especially those politicized or made popular by media platforms, have extremes. There is no denying the fact that there are people who hate Meghan Markle because of her ethnicity. Those extremists who hate Meghan for her ethnicity ironically do not discriminate, though. If they hate her for her ethnicity, they hate ALL people of that same ethnicity.

On the flip side of this coin, is the other extreme. The face is the same on each side because the face represents extremism. There is no denying the fact that there are extremists who see anyone opposing Meghan as racists. Extremists who, by default, view every issue in the world through the lens of racism. While racism is a serious problem that deserves no place in society, assuming racism is the root cause of every conflict is also lazy and sloppy. And the same could be said that these extremists do not discriminate, either. If they see race as the only issue for why people “hate" Meghan Markle, they see race as the only issue for most everything.

The problem with both extremes is when everything and everyone is reduced to racial identity, racism only continues to exist. A racist using skin color as a disqualifier perpetuates racism. Assuming racism is the only reason behind disdain for someone only perpetuates racism. Focusing on race or racism allows no room for content of character.

Especially when people defend Meghan Markle being the victim of racism with a racist rule. When opposing critics say “I didn’t even know she was Black" or suggest her physical features, her Hollywood CV, or past involvement with Black causes were nonexistent before she became a duchess or stepped down from being a working royal, the extremists on the other side often resort to the One Drop Rule.

Which means their defense for calling Meghan Markle “haters" racists, even though they might have never knew she was mixed race, is a form of racism. The One Drop Rule was borne from the Reconstruction Era post-Civil War. The “rule" essentially said anyone who appeared to have Black features were considered Black.

The One Drop Rule was the precursor and eventual backbone to Jim Crow Laws of the South. It was used to oppress and segregate Americans based on physical appearance. Considering most people who never heard of Meghan before Harry came along were ignorant to her mixed heritage, it seems grossly negligent to assume race is the real issue. How can one be racist toward Meghan when they didn’t know she was mixed race? This author wasn’t aware of Meghan’s ethnicity prior to it being pointed out (by her and Harry. Repeatedly.), mainly because this author didn’t care.

Like so many, when I first saw Meghan and Harry together for the engagement interview, I was more excited about a fellow American joining the Royal Family. After learning she was biracial, well it was even better. It represented change and progress. Does that mean I saw the Royal Family as racists beforehand? No. It means I saw them as exactly the opposite. Had they been racist, she’d not be a duchess. Her being American and divorced was more a shock to me than being mixed.

The point of all this is there are extremists on every spectrum. For a journalist to say they went undercover, when in fact they did not, to expose the true motives behind Meghan Markle “haters", only to find they did very little to really understand the other side was disappointing. Not surprising, just disappointing. This could’ve been an excellent opportunity for someone to take the reigns and make bridges between two very passionate factions. Instead it became nothing more than a hit piece.

The article fails to acknowledge the possibility – no, the probability – that most people who object to Meghan Markle do so because of how she behaves. The article only considers one possibility behind this “hate". And by calling the objections “hate", the article in turn defines all criticisms as hate speech. Again, unoriginal, sloppy, and lazy.

So here we have it, yet another article grouping and stereotyping anyone who disapproves of Meghan and Harry as racist haters. Yet again, another article name dropping people “deemed racist haters", essentially painting even bigger targets on the backs of those people. Like they didn’t already have enough hate mail. Yet again, another sloppy, lazy, article that never digs below the surface to understand why instead of assuming it.

This isn’t new, it’s just another slop drop from the sensationalism machine that has replaced fair, legitimate journalism. It would be different if there weren’t so many questions surrounding the births. It would be different if Meghan Markle actually lived by the example she so vehemently preaches. It would be different if Meghan Markle would make amends with her own family before telling the world how they should treat people. It would be different if Meghan Markle were a strong woman instead of claiming to be one.

But it’s not different. She hasn’t spoken to her father since two days before her wedding three years ago. She denies the family connections that existed before her fame. She ghosts people once they are no longer of benefit. She preaches equality and universal service while using her title every chance given. She and her husband criticize the “family she never had" while naming their second child after that family’s Matriarch. All of those are behaviors that incite strong emotional responses. Behaviors. And behavior has no racial identity.

A final note… hypocrisy is the main reason people have issues with anything. When one group of people tells another group to stop attacking a public figure, while using assumptions as their crusade call, it’s hypocrisy. One cannot say “if you can’t take the heat, then shut up!” to another without being a hypocrite. When that happens, don’t be surprised when the same exact thing is said back. If Meghan or her fans can’t take the criticism, they shouldn’t participate in it. We all have the right to choose. Just like if I couldn’t handle the criticism, I’d not be writing this.

Life is not fair. The world is a dark, cruel place. When we expect the world to bend to the will of a few, we are setting ourselves above the majority. A strong woman would know this. A strong woman fighting for others would also know that the only person responsible for how one feels is one’s self. External feedback isn’t responsible for internal turmoil. Internal feedback is. That is all.

REFERENCE:

Amoako, A. (2021 June 11). I went undercover in the sinister world of Meghan Markle hate accounts. Refinery29. Retrieved from: https://www.refinery29.com/en-gb/2021/06/10518195/megxit-meghan-markle-anti-fandom

#murky meg #megxit #yankeewally #prince harry #according2taz

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