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randomshyperson · 3 years

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THE SCARLET WITCH PROPHECY - Chapter VI - The Fourth Year (Final Part)

Gif is not mine, blessed are the gif makers.

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. | Chapters Warnings: Heavy angst in this.

A/N: This took me a while, because i had writer block (and it's not over yet). Anyway, I hope people like this. Let me know if anything is confusing okay? Sorry about typos too.

Words counting: 11.344K

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//-//

The Fourth Year - Final Part

Wanda was avoiding you. Well, not just you, but all your friends.

You told Gamora what happened, but you didn't have the stomach to repeat the story to anyone else, so your sister passed the news on.

You were coping well in spite of everything. You missed her terribly the whole time, but you were pushing the feelings down and trying to stay positive about everything.

By trying to put yourself in Wanda's shoes, you understood why she did what she did. You just had to find a way to prove to her that what you felt was real, and for that you needed to find out more about your magical bond.

Your best alternative to the lack of books about it in the library was to talk to the professors. Judging from your experience with them, none of the teachers would tell you anything. But Fury has been acting very differently all year, and although you don't agree with the way he has been teaching D.A.D.A. lately, you have the impression that he would tell you anything you asked.

That's why after a particularly exhausting class where he made all students practice the shield spell until one of the boys threw up, you waited until the room emptied to talk to him, watching with curiosity as he turned a small bottle he kept in his pocket to his mouth.

"What is it Stark?" He asked still on his back. You wondered if behind the eye patch he had some enchanted eye to see around things, but the idea seemed too absurd to you.

"Sorry, Professor Fury." You say. "I have a question about advanced magic and would like to clear it with you."

Fury put his materials away in his bag, and beckoned for you to accompany him into the private office, and you followed him into the small room, watching him set the desk on a coffee table and move toward a glass cabinet of magic supplies.

"Have a seat and make yourself comfortable." He said with his back turned. "I need to prepare a potion, but you can ask me what you want."

You stumble half-heartedly to one of the empty armchairs, and then clear your throat.

"It's about magic bonds, professor." You recount. "I... well, I think I have one. And well, I'm not finding much material on it, and I don't understand how they work."

Fury makes a noise with his mouth in understanding, his hands wandering through the cabinets behind ingredients you don't recognize, but he seems to be paying attention to both you and the brewing of the potion.

"Are you familiar with the concept of magical bonds and connections, Miss Stark?" He asks and you deny it. The professor cuts something that looks like mushrooms on the table as he speaks again. "The reason you can't find books that explain to you exactly the nature of this magic, is because no wizard has been able to decipher these enchantments correctly." He explains. "The magical bonds are one of the oldest and most powerful enchantments in the magical world, Miss Stark. Extremely dangerous, yet immeasurably valuable for some purposes."

You swallow dryly, but do not interrupt. Professor Fury bends down to reach a tin cauldron and places it on the counter in front of him, on a small makeshift stove. He deposits some ingredients inside.

"Have you ever heard about any of these bonding spells?" He asks and you think for a moment.

"I think I've heard about the perpetual vow, sir."

Fury gives a small smile, nodding. He sniffs a small bottle before pouring the contents into the cauldron.

"Yes, the perpetual vow is a great example of a magical bond." He says. "But it is still an active spell, you need to recite an incantation and both parties need to voluntarily close the bond. Some witches believe it's a contractual magic, much more than a natural connection." Fury explains. "I particularly prefer to use another example, Stark. The life debt."

Fury has a smile at the corner of his lips, and a strange gleam in his eyes when he looks at you for a moment, but you don't have the courage to ask. He turns his attention back to the cauldron, lighting the flame under the metal with his wand.

"I don't know what that means." You confess and the professor doesn't take his eyes off the cauldron.

"A life debt is a magical bond created when a wizard or witch saves the life of another magical being." He explains. "And I say magical being, not just another wizard, because I've seen it happen once for a centaur to owe a wizard their life. But never the other way around."

"How does that work?"

"It's very simple really." He says. "If you save someone's life, that person or creature will owe you a debt. The bond is created, without needing an incantation. The act of preserving a life is magical enough to create that bond." He explains and his expression turns almost somber. "The best part is that the person saved needs to pay back."

"And how do they do it?"

"A life can only be paid with another life." He declares. By now, the potion is smelling. You don't know what it is, but it looks like lavender, and it makes you a little dizzy. "I have witnessed a quitting in my time as an auror, Miss Stark." He tells you, and you already imagine that what he is about to say is not something you should tell a fourteen-year-old witch, but you don't think to interrupt. "The debtor throws himself in front of the Reducto incantation to prevent the death of the witch who saved him once. I still remember the pieces flying around the room."

You looked away, uncomfortable with the mental image you were given. The professor didn't seem to mind.

"But of course not all debts are paid off like that." He added as if he hadn't just told the story of someone tearing themselves apart. "Stopping a friend from falling off his broom in a game of quidditch might be enough to pay off a debt. Or to create one too." He counters. " This kind of magic has always been very difficult to decipher."

You murmur in understanding, keeping your gaze on the floor. The professor sighs lightly, moving away from the cauldron to sit in the empty armchair in front of you.

"But I'm guessing you're not talking about any of these bonds, are you?" He hints and you swallow dryly, feeling intimidated by the watchful gaze he gives you. You figure that lying is not an option.

"N-no sir." You reply. "I wanted to know more about protective bonds. Like... like the idea of someone you care about getting hurt, causes you a really bad feeling. And it makes you ignore your own safety and makes you go too far e...."

"Impressive." The professor interrupts, his gaze almost fascinated on you, and making you swallow dryly. "And how far are we talking about, Stark? What's the limit? Would the wizard put themselves in front of an unforgivable curse? Would they offer themselves up as a sacrifice? If one were to get hurt, would the bruises show up on the other, or does the very idea make your insides turn? Or…”

"Fury." You jump in fright when Strange's voice interrupts the monologue of the other man, who was very close to you now.

Fury looks annoyed that he has been cut off, but he turns away with a smile. "Pardon the interruption. I need to have a word with you on a matter." Stephen said, but he didn't look happy at all, and his expression was one of concern and disapproval, probably from the discussion he witnessed.

You stood up awkwardly, taking a step back, your heart still racing from the things the professor told you.

"Of course, Professor Strange." Fury spoke as he stood up. "Stark, I hope that has cleared up your doubts. If there is anything else you wish to ask me, you may come to my office as needed."

You bit your tongue to avoid saying that Fury only scared you rather than clarifying anything, and nodded in understanding.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts may not be my class, but I am also available to talk with you, Miss Stark." Stephen added softly as you passed him in the doorway. You mumbled a goodbye before walking out of the office, ignoring the horrible feeling that settled in your stomach.

//-//

You were really disturbed by the conversation with Professor Fury. The story of the wizard casting himself in front of a spell gave you strange dreams, and you could no longer be sure that you wouldn't do the same for Wanda.

Your friends were equally impressed by what you told them, and you ignored the feeling of dissatisfaction at the pit of your stomach that you felt because you wish you were talking to Wanda about it, and tried to be more grateful that you have someone to talk to at all.

You were thinking of talking to Tony about everything, and you thought you'd look for him in the Slytherin hall, and to your surprise, he showed up in your common room. You thought he was there to spend some time with Steve, but he really came to see you.

"Daddy wrote for us." He explains as soon as he greets you. The letter already open in your hands as he throws himself on the couch in the communal hall. It is Sunday, but the room is very empty because with the amount of free time and foreigners in the castles, most of the students are socializing outside. You had dismissed your friends' invitation to practice Quidditch in exchange for a nap, as you were upset by the way Wanda left the main hall at breakfast when she realized you were sitting at the Slytherin table with her brother.

"Finally." You grumble as you sit down in the armchair across from Tony, stretching out your arm to pick up the letter. It must have been the first letter in three months or more. Last time, your father had said he was overwhelmed with work and would not send any news for a while. You thought it would be days, but it was months. Jarvis at least wrote to tell that he was alive, working in the basement.

Looking down at the paper, you began to read:

"Dear children, how is school going? I hope you are studying as I have always asked you to do. I have been busy with an important project at the ministry, an invention to improve the astronomical forecasts of the wizarding community. Please forgive me for the lack of contact these last months.

Tony, I received the letter about the detention, and I was quite upset when I heard about the bet. You are the older brother and you should protect your sister, not put her in danger. But I am glad that everything ended well and hope that this kind of behavior will not happen again.

Y/N, dear, I heard about your willingness to start studying Muggle Studies, and I'm very glad..."

You stop reading the letter halfway through, frowning and looking at Tony next, who was lying with his head on the cushions and his arm under his eyes.

"What kind of crap is this?" you ask with confusion and irritation, causing Tony to let out a short chuckle. "Dad telling us to study? What the...?"

"It doesn't sound anything like him, I know." Tony interrupts and then sighs, sitting down on the couch to point to the paper. "And see how he doesn't make any jokes about the dare, or any comments about your incident at the lake? It sounds so mechanical and vague."

"Do you think he hasn't read our letters? He only mentions the one from school." You say and Tony leans back on the couch, thoughtful.

"I don't know. It just doesn't sound like him." He says. "I wouldn't be surprised to find out that Jarvis wrote it."

"Why would Jarvis do that?"

"Because Dad hasn't spoken to us in three months." Tony retorts with irritation. "And well, you almost drowned and he didn't even bother to read about it."

"Tony..."

"No, it's fine." He grumbles, taking the letter from your hands and standing up. "Screw him." Cursed the boy in annoyance, tossing the letter into the fireplace in the room. You frowned, sighing. "We don't need him. I'll take care of you."

You were tired of this. Running a hand through your hair for a moment in frustration, you let Tony take your hands in his as he knelt in front of you next.

"I'm sorry I've been absent this while." He says surprising you. "I hated how all the adults were hiding things from us, and I did the same with you. I promise I will tell you everything from now on."

You nod in understanding, squeezing Tony's hand lightly.

"I need to tell you something too."

And you do. The whole conversation with Wanda and with Professor Fury shock Tony. And he has a frown creased in concern when you finish.

"I know it's a lot." You say. "But I'm terrified. I don't know what will happen to me if I lose Wanda, and all I can do is miss her."

"Hey, it's going to be okay." Tony says tenderly, releasing his hand to caress your cheeks and wipe away the dripping tears. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise."

"What if you can't avoid it, Tony?" you retort softly, your voice whiny.

"I will." He assures you. "I will help you. We'll figure out a way to break this bond, and then you and Wanda will be safe."

You nod, deciding to believe his words. Your brother hugs you next, and you wish he is right.

//-//

Just like you, Tony was also unable to gain access to the restricted section of the library. But that is the least of your problems.

As the date of the last task approaches, you are a pile of nerves. Tony assures you that he will try to find something about ways to break magical bonds on the last trip to Hogsmeade in a local library, but you are barely listening to him, your thoughts wandering towards Wanda.

The other girl, on the other hand, continues to avoid you and your friends. Your only option is to ask Pietro about her, and he assures you that she is as upset as you are as if he is trying to make you feel better somehow. But all this information causes is a worsening of your distress. Pietro is not comfortable coming between you two, so you don't insist that he spend time with you or your friends, knowing that Wanda needs company. You also insist that Gamora and Nebula continue to spend time with the witch, but they comment that Wanda is not really sociable after the whole thing.

The rest of the school starts to notice the way the Maximoffs are no longer hanging out with you, and since everyone in the school loves a little gossip, the news that you and Wanda broke up starts to circulate very quickly.

You don't want your detention for the lake story to escalate, but it's hard to control the urge to jinx your classmates when their snarky remarks reach your ears.

"I heard they broke up because Wanda became a champion, and didn't want to be seen with a hufflepuff anymore." Said in a not so low tone, a Ravenclaw boy as you were walking ahead of them toward the Potions classroom.

"No, dude, that's not true. I heard that Wanda got pretty close to the other champion, Jean Grey, and obviously she'd go for a famous quidditch player than a nobody." Added a female voice, and you clutched the books in your hands tightly, but didn't turn around.

"Come on, the girl's a Stark." Retorted the boy. "I think Maximoff is a winner with either one."

The girl laughed lightly, and you wished you reach the classroom soon.

"I think you're right." The girl spoke up. "Maximoff has always been weird, I don't know how she got such great options."

Your attention wandered from the conversation when Mantis reached you. She went back to the dorm to get the potions book she had forgotten, and frowned at your annoyed posture when she arrived, but when she caught the words of the pair behind you, she threw them an annoyed look that made them fall silent.

"Don't pay any attention to that kind of gossip, Y/N." She asked gently and you just sighed.

"I just wish people would mind their own business." You grumble annoyed and Mantis agrees with a murmur.

Potions class was as difficult as it usually is. What surprised you was Professor Lensherr's tired appearance, but you imagined it must be because of the tournament finals that were being organized by the teachers.

When you were packing your materials, you almost knocked over the glass jar when he appeared in front of you.

"Stark, a word, please." He asked earnestly, and Mantis shot you a glance before hurrying to leave. The professor waited until the room was empty and then nodded to the door, which closed. "Wanda told me about your magic bond."

"Shit." You grumbled immediately, and Professor Erik raised his eyebrows. You cleared your throat, apologizing for cursing. "Look, sir, I don't know what else to say about it. I don't know where the bond came from, and I'm trying to find out..."

"I can help." He interrupts and you fall silent, surprised.

"Really?"

"Yes." He says straightening his posture and crossing his arms. "I obviously have more magical knowledge than you, and your nosy brother." He says and you understand that he is talking about the way Tony has been pestering the teachers to get information. "And if this bond affects Wanda, it is of particular interest to me."

You swallow dryly, nodding in understanding. You explain to him how you feel next, and Erik absorbs your words with a neutral expression.

"Interesting. I had my theories since you couldn't duel with Wanda in the second year, but since you became close, it wasn't my place to intrude.” He tells with a bit of a nostalgic face as you finish speaking. “I have a few questions, Miss Stark. I need clarification on the nature of this bond." He says with his arms still folded across his chest. "Last summer, Wanda had a cold. Did you feel anything?"

You thought about the vacation for a few seconds.

"No, sir." You reply. "I don't remember getting sick."

"I see." He says. "Tell me, have you ever had dragon pox?"

You nod in agreement.

"At how old?" The teacher asks, and you think for a moment.

"I don't know, four I think. Maybe five."

"Wanda had dragon pox when she was six." He declares, his gaze assessing you. You blink, trying to follow what he is trying to say. "It's not a very common disease in England, is it?"

"I don't think so." You mutter without understanding why the professor is looking at you like that.

"Wanda caught the disease in Sokovia, the country where she was born." He recounts. "We were on vacation and she came back sick. The last case of that disease here in England was almost a hundred years ago."

"I guess I'm unlucky then." You try to joke, and Erik almost smiles.

"The flu Wanda had last summer was not of magical origin." He adds, and you frown slightly, not knowing what to make of this information. "But dragon pox is magical in nature."

"Professor I don't..."

"Wanda broke her wrist at the age of seven." He interrupts as he uncrosses his arms, gesturing slightly. "She and Pietro were playing in the backyard, no magic."

"Okay..."

"I imagine Wanda has already talked to you about her exceptional magical abilities, Miss Stark." The professor continues. "Her visible magic, I meant. It started when she was three years old, when she was able to bring her toys into her crib and wrap them all in a magical cloud." Erik tells and you smile briefly at the image of a baby Wanda, but his expression makes you bite the inside of your cheek the next second. "I want to know how much of this you were able to experience, being on the other side of the country."

You swallow dryly, looking away and trying to think back to your childhood.

"I don't know, professor." You reply. "I was a child. Maybe Tony or dad will know something."

"Come on, isn't there anything you can tell me?" He insists. "Any specific memories, any strange dreams? Anything."

You think, and think, but none of your childhood memories seem relevant. And then you frown, remembering one.

"Actually... There was this one time I got really sick. I think I was about eight. Maybe nine, and dad took me to St.Mungus. I had a high fever, and I couldn't sleep at night with nightmares, but I don't remember what happened. They thought it might be the flu, but we never found out what it was. The next day I was better."

Erik was slightly wide-eyed and then he sighed.

"Before she came to Hogwarts, Wanda was afraid of losing control of her magic at school." He starts to tell. "I tried to calm her down, but she was very upset. She managed to convince Pietro to help her into my potions room and took an entire bottle of a brew for magical containment. Her magic seemed almost enraged, and she destroyed the greenhouse with a wave of energy. I've never seen her so out of control." He says thoughtfully, as if remembering the events. "She passed out from exhaustion, and didn't wake up until the morning. She was ten.”

"You don't think...?"

"That's exactly what I think, Miss Stark." He interrupts, "The dates match. Every time Wanda was in danger from a magical source, you were affected, because the nature of your bond with her is magical. And that was confirmed during the tournament by noticing the way you jumped into the lake during the second task. I imagine your little interaction with Professor Heimdall when Wanda was facing the dragon was about this as well?" He asks and you nod your head in confirmation. "Right. Well, that's a problem."

"I noticed." You grumble, but then realize from the professor's expression that in addition to what has been said, it seems to be a problem for another reason. "Why?"

"Regarding your safety, I mean." Explains the professor. "The last task of the tournament is going to be exceptionally challenging, and perhaps not the best of experiences for you."

You widen your eyes in anticipation.

"Professor, what will happen in the third task?"

"I can't tell you." He says. "But there will be many challenges. And Wanda may encounter difficulties, especially since she is only fifteen."

You sigh, trying to push the wave of worry down.

"I hate this tournament." You state in a mumble and Professor Erik gives a short little smile. "I hate to see Wanda in danger. If it's for the gold, she can have all mine."

Erik laughed, and you blinked in surprise at the sound.

"Believe me, I dislike this competition as much as you do." He says. "There is no pleasure in seeing Wanda in danger for something as superficial as eternal glory. But the goblet chose her, and she would have suffered a magical penalty if she didn't obey the contract. It was a difficult decision, but it was the best for her."

You mutter in understanding and the teacher is thoughtful for a few minutes.

"I would recommend you not watch the competition so you don't get so nervous, but clearly distance doesn't matter for the bond." He remarks. "I need more information about how all this works. I want to run some tests with you two."

You frown slightly, but before you can ask what kind of tests, the teacher speaks again.

"That will need to wait, of course. With the competition and the final exams, I understand that you are experiencing enough stress and I don't want to cause any more suffering." He explains. "Over the vacations, perhaps I can write to your father. It's time to see old friends again after all."

You are surprised that the professor makes this mention, but you don't bother to comment. He clears his throat, and signals that this is all. You thank him as you get up and then leave the room.

//-//

When the day of the last task of the tournament finally arrived, the whole school was in a joint peak of excitement.

You could hardly sleep, strange nightmares throughout your entire night combined with the anxiety at the pit of your stomach made you wake up several times during your sleep. In the morning you decided to ignore the buzz around the hallways about the task and the possible winner, and joined your friends for breakfast.

You wanted to talk to Wanda, but you didn't see her at the Slytherin table, and Gamora tried to cheer you up with news about a band you liked playing in London next month, but you could barely force a smile, feeling tired and irritated.

You heard a group of Gryffindors commenting excitedly that the occultation spell had been removed from the quidditch field, and that the gates of something that had been conjured for the last task were already visible, but before you could try to hear what they were saying, the boys were already leaving the hall and Pietro came to talk to you.

"Hey, good morning, how are you?" he asked curiously, taking a seat across from you at the table.

"Not well, if you want to know." You grumbled dejectedly, your fingers lazily stroking the piece of bread on your plate. "What about you?"

"Worried." He replied shrugging his shoulders with a small corner smile. "But I'm optimistic. Wanda is confident, and thinks she can win. And I'm trusting that everything will end well."

The mention of Wanda makes you sigh slightly and lean your chin on your arm on the table, looking at the boy in front of you.

"I miss her, Pietro." You confess upset and ignore the way Gamora and Nebula who are sitting next to the boy look at you with pity, but appreciate how Mantis strokes your back lightly. "She won't talk to me, and I can't blame her or even be mad at her."

"Wanda asked for some time, didn't she?" he asked slightly curious and you grumbled in agreement. "Well, I guess you have the right to ask the same."

You frown in confusion, and Pietro has a little smile as he pours himself some juice.

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"Ask her for, I don't know, five minutes of attention?" He suggests. "Five minutes to at least give her good luck. You look miserable, and I hate to see you like this."

You sigh, thinking about the idea. And then you smile.

"Thanks, P." You say as you raise your head.

"No problem." He says. "You can try now, Wanda should be on the lower floors. She wanted to talk to dad before the task."

You nodded in understanding and then said you would meet your friends outside.

It didn't take long for you to find Wanda. The girl was walking up the stairs as you were coming down, and well, she had no choice but to look at you.

You felt your heart race to have her looking directly at you after so long, but you ignored the sensation as you walked down the steps and stopped in front of her. Wanda swallowed dryly, but held her gaze.

"Hey." You greeted half breathlessly, smiling slightly.

"What do you want?" she asked uncomfortably, her gaze serious. You ignored the seriousness of her words.

"Talk to you."

"I already said I need time."

"I know." You said without hesitation. "But I also have the right to talk. Can you give me five minutes?"

Wanda looked away, and then at her feet. She sighed and nodded, and you waited for her to look at you again before speaking.

"I miss you, Wanda." You confessed and watched Wanda swallow dryly, her eyes filling with tears as she looked away. "And I wanted to wish you good luck in the last task."

Wanda sighed faintly, nodding in understanding, her gaze on the stairs. You raised your finger to her chin, gently turning her face so that she was looking at you. Wanda closed her eyes as you fitted your hand to her cheeks, your thumb stroking her skin tenderly as she leaned into the touch.

Her hand moved up to your forearm the next moment, squeezing before moving your hand away from her face as she pushed your arm away gently.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling in your stomach and the urge to kiss and touch her again.

"Please don't do that." She whispered. "Don't touch me as if you love me as much as I love you."

You gasped, widening your eyes at the confession. But before you could add anything else, footsteps approached and Erik was coming up the stairs behind Wanda. The girl took a step back, wiping her eyes quickly.

"Stark." The professor greeted politely. You had a hard time disguising how much Wanda's words stirred in you. "Wanda, you'd better hurry up for breakfast. The task will start soon."

"Yes, dad." Wanda agrees and she doesn't look at you as she leaves. Erik nods politely and you stand on the steps for long minutes, your heart racing in your chest.

Wanda loves you. And you can't be with her.

Ignoring your broken heart, you turn and walk back into the hall, following the crowd of students who are making their way to the site of the last assignment.

//-//

The third task was a maze full of magical trials.

You gasped as you reached the sight of the large grass ones that were raised at the entrance to the quidditch field and the matched grass gates.

The crowd of students spilled out onto the bleachers set up in front of the maze, and you began to look around for your friends, ignoring the urge to run to Wanda and tell her you loved her back, not wanting to upset her before the task.

When the crowd was fully seated in the stands, and some students were already raising their cheering posters in the air, you watched the tournament judges move along with the faculty as Agatha took her place to announce the start of the competition.

"Hey, it's going to be okay." Gamora whispered to you as the director made the announcements. "I bet Wanda will be back before you can miss her."

You try to smile, your stomach turning in nervousness.

Watching the field below, you see the champions positioning themselves at the entrance.

Jean Grey had the highest score, so she entered first. The Durmstrang students cheering loudly until she disappeared into the maze.

Soon after, Wanda entered. The Slytherin people conjured a serpent of artifice through the air that disappeared as soon as she walked into the maze.

And then Maria Hill last, the Beaubatox crowd clapping their feet until she entered.

Just like the second task, all that was left for the crowd to do was wait once the champions entered. So as soon as the gate closed, the students started talking animatedly among themselves, in addition to the betting chart that began to circulate.

You also noticed that the reporters of the Daily Prophet were asking the cheering people in the front row about the bets for the winners.

Trying to distract yourself from the sense of worry that had taken over you most likely linked to the fact that Wanda was inside a place dangerous enough to kill her, you tried to engage in some of the conversation with your friends.

//-//

With thirty minutes to go, a movement in the field below caught your attention.

"Y/N, isn't that your father?" Gamora asked poking you in the ribs to call you, but you were already looking down.

Your father was not alone. There were four other witches with him that you had never seen before, but judging by their capes, they were aurors from the ministry, as they were dressed exactly like the witches that day in the cup.

There was a sudden movement among the teachers, and then the aurors were opening the gate to the maze and Headmistress Harkness was talking to the judges, all looking extremely worried. The crowd was buzzing, and it didn't take long for the comments to reach you.

"They're saying they're going to cancel the test!" Told a Ravenclaw girl who had just leaned forward to listen to her classmates, and then he turned and said to you and Gamora, making you both widen your eyes. You looked around next, in time to catch Tony coming down the bleachers from the side until he reached your father.

"What do you think happened?" Gamora asked you.

"I don't know, but it doesn't look good." You replied already moving to leave in Tony's direction. Gamora and Nebula looked at you, but you just signaled for them to wait up there.

When you reached Tony and your father, they seemed to be arguing.

"You didn't think to send at least a letter?" Tony squawked angrily, but your father was distracted, looking around and especially back at the entrance to the maze.

"I can't talk now, Tony, please." The man asked. He gave you a short smile as you approached, and Bucky and Steve joined you all next.

"Dad, what's going on?" You asked, but before your father could say anything, the principal was asking the students to return to the castle and the crowd erupted in booing.

The tournament judges were commenting quietly among themselves, and you frowned when Professor Erik approached and whispered something in your father's ear, who made a worried frown.

"Go back to the castle." Your father ordered looking at you and Tony, but you didn't move and Tony pushed your father's hand away.

They began to argue, but you felt your whole body shiver all at once, and you looked back, thinking that someone had called your name.

Professor Erik looked at you curiously, but before he could do anything, you ran past him and into the maze.

//-//

Gasping for breath from the run, you blinked in confusion as you stopped at a crossroads. Your head was spinning slightly, and you looked around.

The maze was dark, and the walls were high and shadowed the path. You noticed that the noise of the crowd was muffled from the inside.

Taking the left path, you were not fully conscious, following only the magnetic energy that seemed to pull you around the correct path.

Your wand was raised to your hand, an illumination spell that you don't remember conjuring. You frowned slightly when you noticed another light, and then Maria Hill was standing in front of you.

"Who are you?" she asked, but you didn't answer, walking past her in a mechanical manner. The girl looked at you with confusion. "Girl, can you hear me?"

"Wanda." You whispered without stopping your walk. Maria hesitated but then began to follow you through the labyrinth.

"Are you hexed?" She asked curiously but got no answer. When she tried to hold you by the shoulders, you pushed her to the ground. "Hey, no need for that!"

You didn't answer and Maria sighed in irritation as she stood up, running lightly to catch up with you as you turned the corner.

The tugging on your abdomen began to get stronger, and then you reached the center of the maze.

"Wow, you found the center." Maria commented in surprise next to you. "But where's the cup?"

You looked around confused, feeling the pain in your head increase.

And then noises of footsteps and shouting became closer and a moment later your father and Professor Erik entered the center through one of the trails.

"Honey!" Your father exclaimed worriedly, but before he could reach you, you fell to your knees, a shrill cry of pain escaping your throat.

Your vision blurred and you had another vision.

It was the graveyard from your dream, but now much clearer than before. You were attached to something, and there was a tall wizard standing in front of you.

The man turned around and you could see his red eyes staring at you with hatred.

"Erik, what is happening to her?" You heard your father's voice sound muffled by the ringing in your ear. You were trying to breathe normally, lying on the grass with your hands on your head.

"Look out, Howard!" It was Professor Erik's voice, but you didn't have the strength to look up.

"Protego!" Someone shouted the incantation next to you, maybe it was Maria but you can't open your eyes to see.

The pain in your head seemed to subside slightly and you forced your gaze upward, not understanding what was happening.

There were two bright lights in front of you. The image was not very clear because of the pain, but you struggled to understand what you were witnessing.

A wizard you didn't know was exchanging spells with Professor Erik. And Bucky was standing next to him, his robotic movements exactly matching those of the mysterious sorcerer. Your father was dueling with the younger one.

The unknown wizard let out an angry grunt, and said something in a language you didn't recognize, and then a green light shot out of Bucky's wand and hit your father in the chest, knocking him backwards.

"Stupefy!" Shouted a female voice from your side, and the spell hit Bucky squarely.

You whimpered in pain again, and could stare no longer.

A few minutes passed before you gasped back to consciousness, or perhaps it was hours. Your tears wet your shirt, and you coughed helplessly.

You raised your eyes to a scene that you didn't understand at first.

There were three people lying on the ground. A man you had never seen before, Bucky and your father, and Professor Erik was kneeling beside the last.

You blinked in confusion and then Tony came running out of the other opening and he widened his eyes when he noticed father.

"Hey, can you stand?" it was Jean Grey beside you. Maria Hill was holding you in her other arm, and you blinked in confusion at both of them.

"Where am I?" you grumbled, and then looked forward again. Tony ran up to your father, and you widened your eyes.

"Dad?" Tony asked with his face wet with tears. "Dad? Wake up!

"Stark..." Erik started as he touched the boy's shoulder, but your brother didn't look at him as he pushed his hand away.

You forced yourself to get up and with the help of the girls you succeeded. You took two steps and then fell to your knees again, understanding what had happened.

You had just witnessed your father being murdered.

//-//

The maze was dismantled from the inside out.

The rest of the teachers moved to remove the incantations and the maze disappeared around you, while you and Tony were kneeling beside the body of your father.

Soon there were reporters trying to reach the center, but Principal Harkness ordered them to stay away.

The aurors from the ministry were also there and they conjured a containment spell around the man who dueled the professor.

"We need to get the children out of here, Harkness." You heard someone say, but their gaze was on your lap, the hand you entwined with your father's.

"We don't know how many of them then here." Another witch said.

"Darlings, let's go inside, okay?" Professor Erik asked you. You were too tired to contradict, but Tony refused.

He said something about responsibility, and they did not contradict him again. You were led out of the maze, however, and the place where the entrance was located was empty.

The reporters who had been thrown out approached you and the ministry's auror immediately as soon as they saw you two, and you blinked at the flashes of the cameras.

"Can you tell us what happened inside the maze Miss Stark?"

"How are you and your brother going to take care of the fortune now that you are Howard's heirs?"

The lack of sensitivity made your stomach turn, but you were too tired to cry.

The auror who was with you said something to keep the reporters away, and then you were taken back to the castle.

"Hey, kid, are you still with me?" The lady asked as she knelt in front of you, her expression concerned.

You sighed, feeling an urgency to close your eyes. You think she called you again before you blacked out.

//-//

When you woke up, it was warm. And when you realized that you were in the infirmary, it took you a few moments to remember everything that had happened. As you did so, you began to cry. Finally understanding that your father was dead.

Your pillow got wet, but you didn't care, finding it hard to see past the tears.

"Hey." It was Tony, looking extremely tired, standing at your bedside. You couldn't tell if he was already there when you woke up, or if he had entered the infirmary at that moment, but you didn't ask. He lay down on the bed with you next, and hugged you.

You know that he was crying too, even though you didn't look at him.

You eventually fell asleep between sobs, and when you woke up again, you were feeling better physically.

Tony was standing in the doorway of the infirmary, talking to the Auror who brought you in. When she noticed you looking, she nodded slightly to Tony and he looked at you, forcing a smile.

The two wizards walked over to you next, and you sat down on the bed.

"Hey, are you feeling better?" Tony asked and you shrugged. "Carol wants to ask you some questions."

You looked away from Tony to the woman, and she looked slightly embarrassed to have to question you after a situation like this, but she did it anyway.

"My name is Carol Danvers, Miss Stark." She introduced herself first. "I am an auror from the ministry of magic. I brought you to the infirmary, can you remember this?"

You nodded in agreement.

"I need to tell you some things, and then I'll ask you about what happened in the maze, okay?" She asked and waited for you to confirm before she started talking.

Carol explained to you how the dark wizard Korvac used polyjuice potion to disguise himself as Professor Fury all year long, and infiltrate the tournament organization. The real Fury was a family friend of the auror and was able to warn her in some way that she didn't tell you, and then the aurors used flu powder to get to Hogwarts. Your father was still an auror in secret to the ministry, and so he also joined the operation group.

When the Aurors arrived, however, Korvac had already entered the maze and they went after him. Neither your father nor the professor were supposed to enter the maze, but when you did, your brother followed, and consequently Steve and Bucky did the same. Your father and the professor went after, but the maze was enchanted to make everyone get lost, and that's exactly what happened. While you were guided by your connection to Wanda, everyone else was lost all around.

Carol told you that Korvac had found Bucky and used the Imperio curse to control him, so he was fighting on behalf of the dark wizard against both your father and your teacher. With Jean Grey's intervention, Bucky was knocked out and Professor Erik hit Korvac, but it was too late.

Everyone eventually found themselves in the middle and the maze was dismantled. Tony had already given his statement to the ministry, and Korvac was sent to Azkaban.

"Your brother told me that you have some kind of magical bond with one of the champions and that's why you went into the maze right?" Carol asked as you wiped away your tears. You sniffled slightly as you confirmed. "Miss Maximoff won the competition and she has also talked to my colleagues about what she saw in the cup portal."

"W-what?" you questioned with confusion.

Carol sighed slightly and then her posture changed. She looked back for a minute.

"Look, I trusted your father. He knew there was corruption in the ministry, and he warned me about it when he recommended me to work with him." She began as if telling a secret. "Let's keep that between us for now. I don't know who I can trust in that department."

Carol told about how the triwizard cup was bewitched to become a portal key, most likely by Korvac. She repeated Wanda's words to you, saying that the girl had ended up in a graveyard with the remnants of Mephisto's followers in place. Wanda also said that Mephisto himself had returned and that they faced each other. She managed to escape by touching the cup again.

What made you angry was knowing that the minister didn't believe any of her words, and refused to acknowledge Mephisto's return. The whole thing would be treated as a trial of the tournament that got out of hand, and Korvac, who had been captured, would be accused of all the crimes.

Carol didn't seem happy with the minister's decision either.

"I have nothing to say but tell the minister to go fuck himself, Carol." You informed irritated and the blonde smiled at you.

"You inherited your father's attitude." She comments and you think the intention is good, but it makes your heart ache. "I will close your statement then. Thank you very much for your time, Miss Stark."

You nod and Carol hesitates. She sighs lightly and touches your brother on the shoulder and your outstretched hand on the bed.

"I used to be friends with your father." She says. "Don't think you are alone, children. You have more family than you can imagine. And you can contact me if you need anything."

Carol smiles and walks away with a nod. You and Tony exchange a slightly surprised look. Tony sighs and sits down next to you on the bed. You say nothing, but you both know that this should be one more among your father's many secrets.

//-//

Nurse Cho released you from the infirmary that same afternoon.

Aside from the mental exhaustion, you were perfectly healthy.

Your friends, with the exception of the Maximoff twins, approach you in the dormitory. They hug you together, mourning the death of your father. You want to say that you feel a little better about this, but that is not true.

As you are seen in the corridors, students and professors stop you to say "my sympathies", and you answer them in a polite way. You can also hear the gossip after all.

Wanda did not obey the order of the minister of magic, and when the journalists of the Daily Prophet asked her about the tournament, she told her version. Nobody bought her story, and she was branded a liar after the minister denied the return of the dark wizard.

Professor Erik also greeted you in the hallways, and Pietro was with him. The boy hugged you tight, and you held back your tears.

"Stark, my home is always open to you and your brother." Erik said as his hand was on your shoulder. "I just want you to know that."

You nodded in understanding and then walked toward the communal hall intending to organize your belongings, since the school year would end that week.

//-//

On your last day at Hogwarts, you finally talked to Wanda.

Because your nightmares had become more frequent than ever, you had spent the last days at school without sleeping properly, and on the last night you gave up sleeping and decided to go to the kitchens.

You were in the empty halls when you heard the familiar noise of Drax monitoring the castle and stumbled to the first door you found, trying to avoid being seen.

As you waited for the hissing noise to become distant, you looked back and gasped in surprise.

There was a girl sitting on the floor and it took you a few seconds to realize that it was Wanda.

"What are you doing here?" You asked curiously, and your voice startled her. She stood up quickly, looking at you in surprise.

"Shit, you scared the hell out of me!" She complained and you frowned slightly as you realized she was crying, but Wanda quickly wiped her face.

Only at that moment did you notice the large antique mirror behind her. On the metal rim was a Latin phrase that you didn't understand.

Biting the inside of your cheeks, you looked away to the floor.

"Sorry to bother you, I couldn't sleep." You mumbled clumsily and Wanda shifted the weight of her feet before clearing her throat.

"Do you wanna stay?"

You raised your head in surprise, but then nodded in agreement.

Walking up to the girl, you stopped about four steps away from her, not knowing exactly what to do next.

"Are you going to tell me what you were doing here?" You asked again, and Wanda bit her lips before turning toward the mirror.

"I found this place in second grade." She counters. "That's the Mirror of Erised."

"I am supposed to know what that means?" You ask with mild irony causing Wanda to smile slightly.

"We studied that in fourth grade, so yes." She retorts.

"I haven't been busy this year, no time for books, if you know what I mean." You say with a smile and Wanda laughs softly. You stare at the mirror in front of you, but there is nothing special about it. It seems to reflect you and Wanda just like any other. "What does this mirror do anyway?"

Wanda turns her face to you, and you want to ignore the nervous feeling that settles on the edge of your stomach, but to no avail.

"Look closer." She says, and her gaze lingers on you for a moment before she takes a step to the side. You turn your face to the mirror again, and then step forward.

It takes a second for the image to change. It is you in the reflection, but you are not alone. Your father is standing beside you, smiling contently. You frown in confusion, gasping slightly at his sudden appearance.

Ignoring the lump in your throat, you continue to stare. The image trembles slightly, and you try to understand what the mirror is telling you. Nothing looks much different except the image of your father, but then you notice the wedding ring in your reflection.

You look down at your hand for a moment and then back at the reflection. Your image copies the movement with delay and you squeeze your eyes shut to read the letters on the ring.

Your face heats up as you read Wanda's name and you take a step back. The image becomes fainter, but doesn't disappear.

"What do you see?" Wanda asks curiously from beside you, and you startle, turning your head to her quickly.

"M-my father." You answer at the same moment, biting your tongue to make sure you don't say anything else. Wanda's expression tumbles, and she looks down at her feet. You swallow dryly.

"I'm sorry, y/n. I really am." She whispers, and you look away. There is something that is bothering you as much as your father's death, and it is the distance that seems to exist between you and Wanda now.

"Thank you." You mumble the response you have learned to give whenever someone says that to you. "W-what do you see in the mirror?" You ask next, trying to change the subject from you. Wanda looks surprised at the question and even in the low lighting, you notice the slight redness in her cheeks.

"My mother." She answers without looking at you. "And... myself. No magic. Just me and her, and Pietro and papa at a distance. We look happy and normal."

It is the most intimate confession Wanda has ever made to you. You want to caress her face, hug her and thank her for her trust, but you just nod in agreement, swallowing her words and pushing the desire to touch down.

"Have you been here many times?" You ask after a moment and Wanda sighs before confirming. "You never told me about this place before."

"I never told anyone." She retorts without sounding angry, just slightly weary. "I guess I wanted it to be something just mine."

"I understand." You comment as you look into the mirror again, the image of your reflection and Wanda's now visible. "A private space for you to visit your mother."

Wanda murmurs in agreement, and you think she won't say anything else, but she does.

"I need to tell you something."

You turn your head toward Wanda's direction, but when she turns her body toward you, she keeps her gaze on the floor.

"About the day of the task." She says. "About Mephisto."

"Okay." You mumble as you wait. Wanda takes a deep breath.

"I guess you've heard from the whole school that I fought with him." She starts with a sad smile, and you nod in agreement. "Well, there's a reason he couldn't kill me."

You frown with confusion.

"Right...why?"

"It’s better if i show you." She takes a deep breath, raising her hands between you. "Can I?" she asks, and you notice the red magic escaping her fingers.

"You can do that?" You ask impressed and Wanda nods with a shy smile. When you consent, she raises her fingers to your forehead and then you have another vision.

You see the moment when Wanda was teleported into the graveyard, and it's as if you're seeing everything through her eyes.

The moment when a hooded wizard appeared and locked Wanda in a spell against one of the tombstones. You watched the wizard walk to the center of the graveyard and conjure a rune on the ground that you didn't recognize. He recited a few words and then cast an incantation in the sky. The mark of a hydra.

Walking back to the rune, the sorcerer deposited a necklace on the ground. With a dagger he took from his pocket, he recited an incantation in a language you didn't recognize, and cut his own palm. When the blood fell on the necklace, Wanda gasped in pain.

The ground around the rune began to open up and a man crawled out of the earth. You imagined it was a necromancy ritual and they were resurrecting someone. You didn't have to ask to know that it was Mephisto.

When the wizard stood up completely, he laughed darkly. The man who helped him bowed.

"Master, you live!" Celebrated the wizard. Mephisto approached, a gentle flick of his wand wiped all the dirt from his robes, and you could see the metallic Hydra strolling along the entire length of his robes, as if getting used to being awake again.

"All thanks to you, John." Mephisto said his deep voice echoing through the room. "Your loyalty will be rewarded, my friend."

"Thank you, master." Said the man without raising his head. Mephisto touched his hood, pulling it back, and you looked at the kneeling figure. He was a man of about thirty, his blond hair was long and dirty. There was a deep scar across his cheek to the extent of his right eye, which was closed.

Mephisto raised his wand toward the young man's face, and a silver spell escaped from the tip along the scar. The mark didn't disappear, but when he opened his eye, you noticed the metallic glow of the reddish iris.

"Be my eyes again, John Walker." Mephisto commanded and the boy thanked him again. He continued kneeling as Mephisto turned toward Wanda, who was still attached to the tombstone. "I almost forgot about my guest of honor."

"Who are you?" Wanda asked angrily, you could almost feel her fear.

Mephisto smiled devilishly, ignoring the question as he took a deep breath. He raised his wand high and the Hydra's mark seemed to glow even brighter.

In the following moments, shadows began to appear in the sky, and only when the first one of them landed on the ground that you understood that they were wizards appearing.

There were at least eight of them, but because of their position, Wanda couldn't see them all. The masked witches remained static, waiting for their companions. Mephisto murmured softly, and after a moment without any movement in the sky, he sighed.

"It is only at our worst that we see who is really loyal to us." He comments somberly, before opening his arms to the crowd. "Friends! It's so good to see you all again, finally. So many years!"

Mephisto's smile doesn't reach his eyes, and then the wizards are kneeling, and recite together an "It is an honor, master." Mephisto laughs lightly, lowering his arms.

"Look at you folks." He comments with a psychotic look on his face. "You're not even ashamed that you abandoned me." He charges, but no one speaks up. Mephisto sighs impatiently. "No one has anything to say? What a disappointment."

"Master..." Started a wizard on the edge and then Mephisto raised his fist toward him hanging him in the air with his magic. Wanda's eyes widened, but the wizard let go just before the one in the air stopped struggling. As the wizard coughed to try to breathe again, Mephisto pushed his long hair out of the front of his face.

"I don't want your hollow apologies, Zemo." He says. "Nothing will erase the betrayal of all of you, cowards."

No one makes any mention of interrupting the speech, and Mephisto puts his cloak away momentarily.

"But a new era begins, and we need to leave the past behind." Says the mage. "I finally have my treasure where I wanted it, and nothing will stop me from reaching my power again."

Mephisto turns to Wanda now, a mental look on his face. The wizards look at her too.

"Master, is this...?" One of the masked men begins, and Mephisto interrupts with a devilish grin.

"Yes, my friend!" He says. "The Scarlet Witch."

The group loosely shares a buzz of excited excitement, but falls silent the next moment. Wanda wriggles uncomfortably against the spell.

"What is it, my dear?" Mephisto asks as he watches her struggle. "Is it tight? Try a coffin underground. I guarantee the discomfort is greater."

The comment makes Wanda clench her jaw as the group lets out a chuckle.

"I'm not who you say I am." Wanda retorts with irritation and Mephisto lets out a laugh approaching. You wish you could enter the vision to get him away from Wanda.

"Your name is Wanda Maximoff." He says looking her straight in the eye. "You were born in 1989 in a dirty muggle neighborhood of Sokovia. And you are a scarlet witch by birth." He narrates and then his gaze changes to malice. "And you belong to me."

"Fuck you."

Wanda's rude response makes Mephisto smile.

"Perhaps you, my dear friends, were not aware of what really happened that night fifteen years ago." Mephisto says as he turns to the group again. "I can only imagine the lies the ministry of magic must have told the world, making sure to tell I was defeated by some of their pathetic aurors."

The group exchanges surprised looks and Mephisto laughs, walking ahead.

"I think everyone has a right to know what really happened that day, don't you, my dear?" He asks Wanda, and then lets out a wry laugh. "Oh, I forgot that you were just a filthy brat back then. I'd better tell them instead."

Wanda struggles against the grip again and Mephisto raises his wand toward her, causing the spell to tighten more and Wanda to grumble in pain.

"Hold still and listen to the story, little brat." He commands. "Didn't the blood traitor teach you manners?"

You know Mephisto is talking about Wanda's father, but the girl doesn't respond to the teasing.

"Do you remember how well everything was going for us, my friends?" Begins the wizard, and he waits for the group to agree before speaking again. "I should have known that the cursed muggles in your community would bring more trouble than I expected."

Mephisto looks slightly nostalgic, but no one is going to interrupt him. He gives a wry laugh before continuing.

"You know that I was seeking the power of a scarlet sorceress for myself. And well, with all the commotion in the ministry, I decided to capture the child without being accompanied by any of you." He says. "I was always the most powerful, but now that I look back, a companion would have prevented so much delay."

When Wanda makes mention of fighting again, Mephisto strengthens the spell.

"I went to take what was rightfully mine in that muggle pigsty that is Sokovia, and I never expected that a filthy muggle would be able to stop me." He tells you and you notice Wanda's interest in the words, curious to know what he was talking about. "Maybe the traitor lied and she had some witch lineage. We'll never know, since I killed her." He comments humorously. "Contextualizing my friends, I went up to the second floor to get the child of prophecy, and I ended up running into two of them."

Mephisto counters with a wry laugh.

"Crazy isn't it?" He says. "But of course it was easy to figure out who the right baby was, since the sorceress' power emanated in the child's aura. I had no function for the other one so I decided to discard it."

Wanda's eyes widen at the confession. Mephisto was going to kill Pietro. She gasps slightly, feeling her anger rising.

"But the muggle pig begged for mercy." He continues. "You know very well how much I hate muggles, but if she had stood in the corner as I told her to do, I would have done no harm. But of course she had to throw herself in front of the infant, become a pathetic martyr."

The group laughs at the narration and you feel like vomiting. Mephisto stared at his own wand for a few seconds.

"I should have realized the sacrificial bond that was created, but I did not expect such a thing from a muggle." He counters somberly, sounding bitter. "When I skipped over her body and repeated the curse, it came straight back to me."

The group let out a chorus of surprise, but Mephisto just smiled.

"Don't worry, friends. I'm here after all." He says. "But a death curse is powerful enough to injure a body. And so I needed to escape." He counters as he walks around. "I would return for the girl as soon as I could restore myself, but where there is one blood traitor there is always another."

The group listened to the story intently and you swallowed dryly, trying to remember all the details.

"The traitor Stark and that muggle slut he called his wife were waiting for me downstairs." Mephisto counters and you hold your breath. "I knew that in my condition I couldn't stand up to an auror like Stark, but he could be useful to me. It was the perfect opportunity to have someone look after my belongings."

Mephisto sighed lightly.

"I think muggles must have some sort of self-sabotaging lifestyles about throwing themselves in front of spells, folks." He mocked causing the group to exchange confused looks. "I aimed at Stark, commanding him to protect what was mine, but it was the muggle who received the enchantment." He counters and you gasp in surprise. "Stark was furious of course, but I used the moments he spent assisting his wife to apparate."

Mephisto's expression was no longer content.

"My body couldn't handle the power of the apparatation, obviously." He counters. "After the curse, it began to betray me. I was on the brink of death for months, until I finally succumbed. My consciousness shallowed, waiting patiently for my faithful followers to find me. And here we are."

The group lets out a small exclamation and Mephisto forces a smile, straightening his posture.

"But that's in the past, of course." He says. "My sorceress is here for me, and I can regain my full power now."

Wanda swallowed dryly as she watched Mephisto approach. The wizard made a motion with his wand and the grip around her neck shortened slightly.

"I never had any use for the witch's receptacle." He says raising his wand to Wanda, you held your breath. "It's nothing personal, dear. At least you'll meet that pig of a mother of yours in hell."

The green incantation comes out of the small wood next, but never reaches Wanda. A yellow energy bumps into the magic and deflects it almost hitting one of the wizards in the circle. The group moves in fright and Mephisto has a psychotic but surprised look on his face.

"The protective spell... How?" he asks, stepping forward. “The spell killed the muggle, I saw her body! How is it still there?” He angrily asks .

His followers look as surprised as he is, and Mephisto assumes an angry expression. He raises his wand again, and even without saying anything, the emerald incantation escapes and the same thing as before happens. Distracted in his frustration, he doesn't notice that with each attempt, the spell binding Wanda grows weaker, until the fourth time he tries to curse the girl, the golden light explodes in the air, ricocheting light startling all the wizards in the circle, as Wanda falls to her knees, free.

The second of shock from the group is enough for Wanda to cause a wave of energy with her powers that kept the wizards away as she reaches for the cup at her feet, teleporting back to the school.

You stumble out of the memory, your eyes watering.

Wanda looks at you, but you turn away feeling overwhelmed by the amount of information.

"W-what was that?" You gasp taking another step back.

"I'm sorry if that was too much." She hastens to say. "I-I needed to tell you. About your mother."

You wipe away the tears, moving further away.

"I can't do this." You grumble. "Not now. M-my father just died, Wanda. I can't. I'm sorry."

The words are a little disjointed, but Wanda understands. She doesn't stop you when you rush to leave the room.

//-//

Coming home is much more difficult than any other time.

The ride on the Hogwarts express is longer than ever, but you don't mind, wanting to avoid the moment when you and Tony will set foot home without your father.

Jarvis picks the four of you up at the station, and you are grateful that Gamora lets you eat all her candy left over from the trip.

The whole feeling of stepping into the house and looking around and seeing your father's objects all around is oppressive, but you try to get used to it. You think the conversation with Tony about your mother can wait.

//-//

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia // @ichala || @madamevirgo

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wanda maximoff x you #wandamaximoffxreader #wanda x yn #marvel imagines #avengers imagines #avengers #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy

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thora-jane · 3 years

Text

Twin-Way Mirror pt iii

Series Summary: You've been friends with the Weasley twins since your first train to Hogwarts, but as the three of you start your 6th year, you start to question if your feelings go beyond friendship.

Summary for Pt 3: The twins help you to get settled and together you catch up on how your summers have been

Warnings: none!

Word count: 2,321

female!reader, 2nd person POV

Summary for Pt 1: After recalling how you first met Fred and George, you finally arrive at the burrow and reunite with your favorite twins.

Warnings: none!

Word count: 2,196

female!reader, 2nd person POV

***

The three soon-to-be fourth years had brought in your things, and as you carried the owl cage and your yarn bag, Fred and George Carried your trunk, navigating up around the narrow bends of the staircases that wove their way through the burrow.

“Ginny offered to have you stay in her room-”

“But Hermione’s already there.”

“Harry’s sharing Ron’s room-”

“And ickle Percykins is too big headed and busy with important ministry work to share his room.”

The two let their conversation bounce back and forth before finishing in unison.

“So you’re staying in our room!”

“Don’t worry,” George nodded seriously as he kicked their door open, “All explosions shall be kept to a minimum, particularly during the wee hours of the night.”

“We understand that beauty sleep is very important to a lady at this stage in life. And we would not want to be the cause of you being any uglier than you already are,” Fred added, mirroring George’s tone as they set down your trunk in their room. After which George promptly smacked him on the head.

“How dare you insult our lovely guest. You foul git, no wonder you’re not her favorite!” You smiled to yourself, placing the cage on the windowsill and your bag on the cot. The two were still shoving each other, but as you turned around you were able to get the first good look at them that you’ve had in months.

They had both shot up so much in the past few months. And their hair, it was even longer than Harry or Ron’s.

It didn’t look too bad, either.

“Careful there, Eros might come back and fly straight into your mouth if you leave it hanging open like that,” George cracked, “Why the open drawbridge?”

You realized you might have been staring for a second, not only that, but your mouth wasn’t exactly closed. You clamped your jaw shut, then opened your mouth again to stammer out, “Your hair’s so...so tall.” You could feel your voice crack at the last word, and you immediately regretted it.

The two boys nearly fell on each other with laughter, gathering up a handful each of their hair and holding it up so it stood on end. Between laughs they both gasped out, “Your HAIR! So TALL!”

You sighed and rubbed a hand over your face. Grabbing a pillow off of one of the twin’s beds, you smacked them both with it. But your beating left no impact on their fits of giggles and instead they grabbed you hands and pulled you into a group hug, messing up your hair before you shoved their arms off with a grin and exasperated sigh.

“Shouldn’t we go wash up? I’m starving,” You said, trying to squeeze in between the twins and out the doorway. You paused, turning to the twin nearest to you and leaning up to their face, staring rather closely.

“Urm…(y/n)? What are you doing?” They hesitated, not breaking eye contact, but freezing up when you tucked their hair behind their ear. Your hand lingered slightly as you searched for a cluster of freckles but came up empty.

“Just trying to figure out which one you are. It’s a bit difficult with all that hair. Nice to see you again, Freddie.” You smiled, patting him on the head before heading off to the bathroom to wash up. You couldn’t hear exactly what had happened, but you figured one of them had smacked the other on the head again. It was a wonder no one had ever gotten a concussion with all the smacking and hitting that happened.

***

Dinner with the Weasleys was never a dull moment. Hardly anything was a dull moment with the Weasleys around. Soon enough, the nine of you retired to the living room, where you and Molly sat working on your projects while everyone else buzzed with excitement that you’d be off to the Quidditch World Cup in the morning.

“(y/n), you’re going to love it. It’s Ireland against Bulgaria and for sure Ireland is going to win!” One of the twins exclaimed from their spot behind you. Ron started to argue, going on about how Viktor Krum was far better than all of Ireland put together.

“He’s a fine example of what the true art of Quidditch can be! You of all people would appreciate that, right (y/n)?” Ron pleaded, ignoring Fred and George’s show of swoons and sighs and Ginny’s giggles from her spot on the couch. It was true, you were a fan of Quidditch, but you weren’t quite that great at it, something about it just didn’t quite stick with you.

But in no way were you bad at flying. You were actually fantastic at flying, and you loved it. In your first year of flying courses at Hogwarts, not only had you managed to exceed at flying, but you were also the only one to successfully dabble in broom tricks when Madame Hooch wasn’t looking. Flying wasn’t a game for you, it was more of a dance.

But of course, Quidditch was no dance.

“I’d like to see (y/n) try and play quidditch,” a twin laughed, sitting down next to your spot on the floor, laying back so his head was resting in your lap, “Artfulness only gets you so far, Ronald, but you need more than cool tricks to be good at Quidditch,” He looked up at you, an apologetic grin on his face, “no offense, of course.”

You looked down at him, his hair spread out on your yarn as he smiled up at you, eyes scanning your face for a moment. For a second, everything seemed to go quiet. Of course, it didn’t actually fall quiet, the other Weasleys continued on with the conversation. But you and Fred (your best guess, at least) didn’t say a word as you sat there, looking down at his head in your lap. It was the quietest he had been since before dinner. His face seemed so patient, like he wasn’t going to say anything until you said something first, like he was waiting for you to do something, or come up with some sort of response.

You felt your face get warmer, and your mind quickly made the excuse that the cause was from his breath. After all, his face was close enough to yours that you could feel him breathing on you.

You shrugged off the thought that this interaction held any particular meaning as you stuck out your tongue and poked him in the nose with your hook, “Get outta my face, Fred,” you retorted, biting back a smile.

He shot back to sitting in front of you, turning around so he could face you again as he leaned in with a frown, “Come now, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings but there’s no need to call me ugly! We both know you could make it onto the team if Oliver wasn’t such a stiff and Harry wasn’t an insufferable golden boy.”

You paused, setting down your yarn and hook. In the background you thought you heard Harry object to the twin’s comment, but you paid more attention to the face of the boy in front of you, tucking his long hair behind his ear and tilting his head in order to get a good look behind his ear. Freckles.

“My apologies, George,” you answered, not moving your hand from the side of his face.

“None taken, my fine lady friend,” He smiled, keeping his head still, “After all, noticing the subtle differences and nuanced signs of beauty is a skill that is only acquired through rigorous practice.”

You smirked, debating whether to move your hand or not. You could almost swear he was leaning into your touch, but you ignored the thought, “I take it you’ve had the practice?”

“Oh, years of it,” he winked. He opened his mouth again to say something else, but before he had the chance, Mr. and Mrs. Weasely stood up, announcing that they were off to bed.

“You kids ought to get some rest too, we leave bright and early tomorrow morning,” Mr. Weasely said, glancing over at all of you, “We’re meeting up with the Diggorys and it’s best not to keep Amos waiting.”

Shortly after, Ginny and Hermione got up and said their goodnights. Then Harry and Ron. After that, it was just you and the twins sitting around in the living room, with George had draped himself across the couch, Fred sitting on the floor leaning against the chair, and you sitting in the middle of the floor, lying on your back with your arms tucked behind your head.

“What about your summer, (y/n)? You’ve been awfully quiet about what you’ve been up to the past few months,” George asked lazily, his hand tucked under his chin as he watched you work at the lion's hat.

“Oh, not much. A bit of reading, a bit of yarn work, letter writing. Also having my parents pester me about studying traditional school subjects, but that’s nothing new,” You sighed, craning your neck to look back at him, “I don’t lead as exhilarating a life as you guys think I do.”

But George didn’t really seem to hear that last bit, “I don’t get it. You’re a witch. You’ve spent the past five years learning magic, wouldn’t those be your traditional subjects? That doesn’t really make sense. And besides, what if you decide to live fully in our world? Muggle University wouldn’t do you that much good, would it?” He rolled off the couch and laid down next to you, “I mean, say you were to live with us for the rest of your life. It wouldn’t matter much how in depth you know the muggle world, right?”

You paused, setting your project down on your chest, “I suppose you’re right,” you sighed, stretching your arms in front of you before placing them at your side, “But good luck explaining that to my mum and dad.”

“And what if we did?” Fred piped up, crawling over to be with the two of you, “What would they do? Not charm us with their lack of magic? How threatening! Oh, hold me (y/n) I’m quivering in my socks!” He declared, grabbing your hand and hugging it to his chest, “Will they dare recite their ‘traditional muggle subjects’ at me? How terrible!”

You laughed not pulling away as you waved your free hand dramatically in front of the three of you, “Traffic regulations! Basic laws of parliament! Analysis of English literature! Taxes! Maths!”

“Oh! I’m so scared!” he cried in a high-pitched voice, holding your hand tighter as he curled up into your side, “Don’t let them take me, (y/n)!” he mumbled into your shoulder. You couldn’t tell if he was laughing, or fake crying. Either way, you chuckled a bit before leaning your head against his with a sigh.

“I mean it though,” George started again as he rolled onto his front and stared up at the empty fireplace, “If you stayed with us in the wizarding world, would they still make you go to a muggle university?”

You looked at him thoughtfully before reaching up and ruffling his hair, “I’m not sure, Georgie. I suppose we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, yeah?” He looked down at you and stuck out his tongue, which you took as an agreement, before looking back to the clock.

“It is rather late, isn’t it?” you asked. Before he could respond, Fred started fake-snoring into your shirt sleeve, having not moved from when he curled up in the first place.

“Oh shut up, you big baby,” George rolled his eyes, nudging his brother’s head with his foot, “I’m going to bed. If this menace gives you any heartache just holler for your knight in shining armor and I’ll send mum to get his arse.” Fred mumbled something into your shoulder, hugging you close as George lightly kicked him again.

After George had started upstairs, you tilted your head to face Fred, “Do you plan on moving anytime soon, Freddie?” You smiled as he pulled you closer, mumbling something again before looking up at you.

“What if I’m already asleep?’’ he asked, a stupid grin on his face, “What would you do then? Awake a sleeping beauty? You wouldn’t. Would you?” he leaned up and kissed your forehead, “that would be a crime.”

For a second you could have sworn your heart stopped. You guys didn’t do kisses, did you? Mrs. Weasley did, and you once kissed Ron and Percy on the cheek as a joke. But you and the twins never did kisses. Was this a new thing? It might be. Part of you hoped it was.

You paused, several questions bubbling up in your mind. It was then that you noticed the look on Fred’s face, his brow furrowed and his eyes were scanning your face, “You alright, (y/n)?” He seemed nervous, and you could feel his arms pull back slightly.

After a moment, you smiled and sat up, “Never better. I am a bit tired though, and we have to get up early. We ought to go to bed, right?” You stood up, brushing back your hair before gathering up your project and stuffing it into your bag.

The two of you quietly began your way upstairs, his arm over your shoulder. You opened the door as quietly as you could, tip-toeing past George’s bed and over to your trunk, rifling through the dark to find a t-shirt and some sweatpants and heading off to the bathroom to change.

You were nearly out the door when a tired voice yawned from under blankets, “Goodnight, (y/n). Sweet dreams.”

You turned back, smiling, though you were sure he couldn’t see you. “Goodnight, Georgie. I’ll see you in the morning.”

#fred x you #fred x y/n #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley #george wealsey imagine #george wealsey x reader #george x reader #george weasley #george x y/n #george x you

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dem-obscure-imagines · 4 years

Text

Bottoms Up

George Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: Fixing up the twins after the Goblet of Fire backfires on them leads to an…unexpected discovery.

Note: FUCK J.K. ROWLING! Trans rights are human rights <3

Warnings: Language, fluff.

Word Count: 1.3k

“(L/N).” Someone hissed at you in the library. Based on their voice, you could tell it was one of two people. “(L/N)!”

“Yes?” You looked up from your homework to find none other than George Weasley. “What is it George?”

He smirked. “I’m Fred.”

You deadpanned. “No you’re not. Nice try, though.”

“Right, as always.” He smiled, dropping down into the seat across from you.

“I’m a Ravenclaw. It’s kind of my thing.” You smiled.

“What are you working on now?” He looked down at your paper.

“History of Magic report. Nothing too interesting, unfortunately.” You sighed and rested your quill in your inkwell. “Can I help you with something or are you just here to distract me?”

“What, I can’t just spend time with you? We’re friends, aren’t we, (L/N)?” George put a hand over his heart, feigning hurt.

Your heart raced, sinking a bit, but you put on a brave face and replied, “Of course we’re friends, George.” That was it. You were friends, no matter how much you wanted to be more.

“Just a hint, (L/N), you should hang out in the Great Hall later. Freddie and I have something pretty epic planned.”

“Oh yeah? So do I.”

“And what’s that?”

“I’m putting my name in the Goblet.” You told him.

His jaw dropped. “Wicked.”

“May as well, you know.” You shrugged, laughing. “I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“See you there, then?”

“See you there.” You grinned.

George walked away and you felt something in you sink. It was always like that when he left. It was your sixth year, and if you had the courage of a Gryffindor, you were sure you would have confessed by now, but every time you got close, you weighed the pros and cons. In the end, it was never worth losing him entirely, so you never took the risk. Maybe someday, but not today. You had bigger fish to fry, after all.

So, a few hours later, you planted yourself in the Great Hall beside Hermione, who was working on homework in there so she could see who all was entering the tournament. You scribbled your name down on a scrap of parchment and she looked at you incredulously.

“You’re entering?”

“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged. “It’s not like I’ll get picked.”

“You could, though.” Hermione reasoned. “Think about it, please. It’s dangerous.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m sure I’ll be fine, Mione.”

It was at that moment that the twins ran in, accompanied by the cheers of the other students in the Great Hall. Each of them was holding a vial of an unknown potion. That didn’t look good. Due to your early birthday, you were old enough to enter the tournament per Dumbledore’s rules. The twins, however, because their birthday was in April, had come up with another solution of sorts. You had a bad feeling about it…

“Well, lads! We’ve done it!” Fred announced, grinning.

“Cooked it up just this morning.” George added proudly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “It’s not going to work.” She sang, drawing their attention down to here, and by extension, you. You soon found yourself surrounded, George kneeling right beside you with Fred on the other side of Hermione. You were glad it was so dark in there, or George definitely would have seen the blush coating your cheeks due to his proximity to you.

“Oh yeah?” Fred challenged.

“And why’s that, Granger?” George asked. He was talking to her, but you swore he was looking at you.

“You see this?” Hermione pointed to the wispy circle surrounding the goblet. “This is an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself.”

“…so?” Fred asked.

Hermione scoffed and slammed her book shut. “So. A genius like Dumbledore couldn’t possibly be fooled by a draught as pathetically dimwitted as an aging potion.”

“Ah, but that’s why it’s so brilliant.” Fred smirked.

“Because it’s so pathetically dimwitted!” George agreed.

Fred looked at you, a smirk spreading across his features. “Think I could get a kiss for luck, (L/N)?”

George stiffened at his brother’s words, something you couldn’t place contorting his features.

“In your dreams, Fredward.” You rolled your eyes, chuckling.

Fred smirked, laughing as he added, “Could Georgie get one then?”

“Oi! Shut up!” George scolded, his face undeniably red.

With confidence you never knew you had, you replied casually, “If he wants one.”

Something in him flipped and he stared at you in disbelief. He had to have hallucinated what you just said.

Hermione laughed at the way you’d struck the tall wizard silent with four words, leaving him floundering there.

Instead of saying anything in response, George leaned forward and kissed your cheek softly, lingering for long enough to let you know that it wasn’t just a friendly little peck. He whispered, “In case you need luck, too.”

Then, the twins stood up, shook their vials, and George said, “Ready, Fred?”

“Ready, George!”

They looked at each other and said, “Bottoms up!” Downing the vials in a quick movement.

When they hopped over the age line, nothing seemed to happen. It wasn’t until they went to put their names in the Goblet that a burst of blue magic backfired, sending them across the room and onto the floor. The two of them started sprouting busy gray beards. You chuckled and shook your head, already mentally preparing the recipe for an antidote.

While the room was distracted by the twins’ tussle on the floor, you stood up and quietly stuck your name in the goblet before walking over and separating them.

“Come on. Let’s go get you fixed up.”

“Thanks, (Y/N).” Fred laughed.

“Yeah, yeah.” You shook your head.

The three of you walked down the hall to the potions room and you set to work immediately, putting your Ravenclaw aptitude to good use. George watched you carefully, his hand scratching the itchy beard that had sprouted on his face. It was a bit embarrassing to look like he did at the moment in front of you, but he knew you’d get them fixed in no time. You always seemed to.

“Alright.” You ladled the potion into two empty vials, handing one to each elderly twin. “Give that a try. If it doesn’t work, I have some other ideas…”

George drank his first without hesitation, and you watched as the beard and bushy gray hair shrank back into his head, leaving his skin smooth again. You reached out and touched his cheek, smiling at your handiwork.

“There you go. Handsome as ever.”

George averted his eyes, smiling softly.

Fred downed his potion, and once the effects had taken place, he glanced at his watchless wrist. “Gee, would you look at the time. I’ve really got to, uh, go polish my broom. But you two take your time cleaning up in here.”

And as soon as the door closed, it was just the two of you.

George took a breath, building up that Gryffindor courage. “So, um…I was wondering if I could give you a real kiss…if you want. If not, that’s okay too.”

“A real kiss, huh?” You smiled softly.

“You know, for luck.” He whispered, taking a step closer to you.

“Right, of course. For luck.” You brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “Believe me, I could use it.”

“Is that a yes, then?” He raised an eyebrow.

You sighed before saying, “George Weasley, I’ve wanted to kiss you since third year, yes, please kiss me.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. He leaned closer quickly, but when his lips finally met yours, it was slow, soft, gentle, the way you’d always imagined he’d kiss you. One of his large hands rose to cup your chin, tilting your head just so, allowing him to deepen the kiss ever so slightly.

“Third year, eh?” He murmured between kisses. He stopped, resting his forehead against yours. His warm breath ghosted across your cheeks. “I wasted three fucking years…Am I that bloody oblivious?”

“I guess we both are.” You amended. “And here, I pride myself on being observant…”

“Don’t worry, love.” His thumb stroked across your cheek. He kissed you long and deep before saying, “We’ll figure out some way to make up for lost time…”

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george #george x reader #george imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #hp #hp imagine

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sneverussape · 3 years

Text

snape fic recs - old magic/epic worldbuilding

related to this post. i decided to dig through my bookmarks and wrack my brain for some of the fics i remember reading that scratched this particular itch. this will have fics that had the characters practice old magic and are more focused on the adults/hogwarts staff rather than the kids, or if the kids would be mentioned they would not be the main povs. these will be multi-chaptered, often long (and obviously au), and some of them have pairings. please heed the tags and warnings that the individual authors would have left; what you consume is your own responsibility. the fics are also listed in no particular order:

In His Name by moira of the mountain - After the Final Battle, a fallen Snape is hidden, bearing Tom Riddle's last Unforgivable. There are three Secret Keepers and a Muggle healer to protect him, but will it be love - or an obligation - which finally frees him? - no pairings // kinda brotp between mcgonagall, snape, and hagrid // also unfinished so fair warning. the lore is so rich though, it feels like how magic in hp should have been.

Death’s Dominion by MMADfan - Severus Snape’s life was changed when he was hit by an errant spell, and he comes to a decision that defies Dumbledore’s wishes. Even the fate of the wizarding world is altered by this ill-cast curse and Snape’s subsequent resolve.Long after the spell has dissipated, its effects continue echoing in the lives of Severus, Albus, Minerva, and Hermione, and they bring with them a shadowy figure whom Snape does not trust and whose motivations and influence on Minerva are murky. Not all is as it seems, and conspiracies and schemes swirl around Severus as he continues on his path of deception to his final confrontation with the Dark Lord. A “Light” fic of love, loyalty, and redemption. - mm/ad, ss/hg // this fic. is LEGENDARY. this is one of those fics that require your full attention and will eventually suck you in and spit you back out with your whole life changed. it will take you on a whole rollercoaster of emotions. the mm/ad pairing is quite an obvious one but the ss/hg is a subtle one and it’s more friendship throughout the whole fic than an actual romantic relationship. the ocs (a lot of them minerva’s family) are also SO well-made you’ll forget they’re not canon.

FALLING FURTHER IN by kaz2 - Hermione begins to learn something of the man behind the dark sarcasms of the classroom. - ss/hg, also features wolfstar, brotp between the faculty and severus // this was one of the fics i had in mind when i did that last post about missing old hp stories. this was started in the early 2000s and the author had free rein on a lot of the material. flitwick and sprout are married here and are the cutest things on earth. it’s also set during the summer leading into harry’s final year so all the teachers are staying at hogwarts and are all good friends with each other. hermione is there as well because her parents had been murdered by death eaters and so she’s spending it with them. the way the ww is written here is so...epic, jkr couldn’t even. snape lives in an invisible tower called serpens tower, the teachers often go to a brothel-which-isn’t-really-a-brothel in hogsmeade, the other teachers often baby severus subtly because he’s the youngest, wolfstar are tolerable and remus actually learns to brew his own damn wolfsbane, etc. the story is in story format until near the end iirc and then the author outlines what happens next rather than writing it out. i can’t blame them; it really is a massive undertaking.

The Crest by sheankalor - Dumbledore only holds partial say in who the Head of House is. Severus Snape is nominated as the Head of Slytherin, but has to pass a final test. Can he? Does he work well with the other three Heads of House? And just what is The Crest? - no pairings // staff fic // one of the rare one-shots but it’s in an au which feeds into other stories // i loooove the lore in this. it provides an explanation as to how a house head is approved by the school and i’m a sucker for any fic that has the faculty getting along.

Balance by rabbit and -v-Jinx-v - Hogwarts is under siege, and it's going to take everyone to find a way out of danger. - no pairings // brotp minerva and severus, also harry and draco form a friendship // this is one of my personal faves. it’s not only old magics but the entirety of hogwarts come together to battle against dark forces (not even death eaters but...balrogs...and other things). there’s no build-up to it; you enter the story after the battle’s already begun and then you get taken along for the ride. also has a part where the heads of houses meet the founders and there’s this epic dance that’s reminiscent of the danse macabre in The Graveyard Book (if you’ve read that you’d know what i mean).

Another World by Aeryn Alexander - Detention with Snape turns into something of an adventure for Hermione and Ginny, not to mention Professor Lupin, as they all discover that Hogwarts holds a terrible secret that none of them want to learn. - ss/hg, rl/gw // this fic took me by surprise because i didn’t expect it to go the way it did based on the summary lmao. the 4 basically get trapped in a mirror version of hogwarts after a potions accident, and the mirror world has literal demons in it. they have to find a way to get back into the real world while not getting killed at the same time. i actually liked lupin in this one and he and severus form a tenuous friendship.

In One Spirit by mavidian - Voldemort and Dumbledore prepare for war and survival. Plans go awry, intrigues abound and nothing is what it seems. Snape created the Dark Mark but that mistake may cost him everything. Can Hermione be his saving grace? - ss/hg but it’s such a slow build you barely notice it during even the first 20 or so chapters because he’s his usual asshole self and they’re too busy trying to protect hogwarts // the concept of this fic and the lore it built up...wow. the faculty are all friends and they’re trying very hard to protect hogwarts using their own magics and their own clever schemes (war brooms? battle wands? blessing tree? filch even gets powers!). voldemort is also equally devious here and snape has loving pureblood parents! (not that it matters, he’s still an ass, but then it’s nice to read about him having a nice family for once). neville also steps up as a member of one of the Traditional Families so he’s quite a BAMF here.

yo pls feel free to add your own recs to this post, i’m pretty sure there are loads more out there!

#fic recs #old magics #worldbuilding #snape #hp

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kuroosmikasavolleyball · 3 years

Text

Like A Disney Movie But Awkward

Abendrot

(n) the color of the sky when the sun is setting; a certain afterglow.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

| previous | masterlist |

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a/n: there have been so many delays(I’m so sorry), but this is the final part! I hope you enjoyed this series. It’s kinda wonky because it’s my first one but in the future, it’ll def get better. Let me know what pairing you want to see next!

Part 5 summary: (Y/N) can’t get the sunset or Cedric out of her head, so she asks him to go watch the sunset with her. Totally just like friends, right? After falling(literally) in love and a bit of advice from the twins, (Y/N) has everything she needs to confess. But will she? (I mean no shit it’s a happy ending)

pairing: cedric x fem!reader (in ravenclaw)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

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The excitement that was brought along with the weekend and the quidditch games was gone when Monday struck through. Most teachers were understanding enough on Friday to lessen the workload, but Snape still assigned a 6-inch paragraph on Golpallot’s Third Law. The twins laughed at (Y/N) when they heard what homework Snape gave since they weren’t in Potions class anymore.

Cedric announced, well actually, scratch that. Cedric told the twins and (Y/N) that he was going to enter the Triwizard Tournament; Fred and George announced it to basically the entirety of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

“Maybe I should’ve kept it a secret until I actually entered.”

Cedric whispered to (Y/N), who was currently by the pond with the three boys.

“I think I would’ve been offended if you didn’t tell me.”

“Duly noted. Now, what are we supposed to do for Charms again?”

Chuckles rose and (Y/N) leaned over to check Cedric’s textbook.

“Since it’s water we’re handling, we need to research and take notes on a way to breathe underwater.”

Fred’s head suddenly popped up from the draft advertisement for Weasley’s Wizardly Wheezes(3W), “That sounds cool, no? Breathing under water. I reckon we’ll have sprouted tails and gills if I try that spell. Do tell though; how do you cast the spell?”

Cedric laughed, “It sounds like you’re going to test that spell no matter what the consequences. I think there’s one about some sort of weed you have to eat, and maybe you can do transfiguration on yourself, or..”

The rest of the afternoon was spent on doing work and lazing around. (Y/N) had an idea about seeing the sunset again now that she fell in love with it. It was addicting.

(Y/N) tiptoed behind Cedric after spotting him outside near the courtyard. She quietly reached for his arms and suddenly shook him in hopes of scaring him. It worked, sort of..he turned around and jumped simultaneously, tripping over (Y/N) and landing on the floor, grasping her to prevent too much damage.

They both groaned as the pain shot through their backs, Cedric quickly scrambling off of (Y/N) to avoid her seeing his blush getting crushed by him.

“Ugh..remind me to never scare you again.”

They both laid on the grass, no energy to get up from the slightly too close situation they were in.

“Anyways..are you free tonight?”

Cedric cocked his head, turning to look at (Y/N) to see her already gazing at him.

“Um..except the fact that we have classes tomorrow and should probably sleep early, yeah I’m free. What do you have in mind?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to see the sunset… with me. I saw a glimpse yesterday during the game and I think I have a good spot to see the view. You up for it?”

“..Definitely. The sunsets near the quidditch pitch are one of a kind.”

“I know right?! Bring your broomstick.”

After finishing all her work and rushing out the Ravenclaw room when Kimball told her to use protection, she bumped into George and Fred.

“Woah, where are you going so quick?”

George dramatically pretended to faint. “Are you..sneaking out? Freddie, catch me. We’ve finally turned little Ms. Follow The Rules; I couldn’t be more proud.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully. “I might be..what’s it to you?”

“Ok defensive queen. We can’t find Diggory anywhere and we were about to ask you, but I think I know why he’s missing now. You guys finally confessed??”

Why is it so easy for her face to heat up?

“Oh, god no. We’re just going to see the sunset.”

“Then I guess you wouldn’t mind if we joined you both, right?” Fred snickered.

“No! ..I mean.. ugh fine, you guys win. I want to tell him...”

“Aw look, she’s in love. Don’t worry, pretty boy is hooked on you.”

“Shush..I have to go…thanks.”

She zoomed past, thankful to get away from the boys towering over her intimidatingly. After a quick stop to the quidditch locker room, she met Cedric and they snuck out of the exit near the gardens.

“Where are we going?”

“Just follow me.”

Out of instinct, (Y/N) grabbed Cedric’s hand and pulled him towards the field. She mounted her broom and told Cedric to do the same. They flew to a hilltop not too far from the quidditch stands and heard chuckles behind her when Cedric found out what she was planning.

“Here’s the lucky spot; I think it’s high enough to see the sunset clearly.”

The sky had already become a mixture of the most compassionate shades of orange and blue. Cedric produced a blanket that was magically folded in his pocket and they sat, conscious of the closeness.

“It’s so ethereal… and weirdly calming.”

Cedric wanted to say that (Y/N) is way more ethereal and calming, but he kept it to himself.

The sun touched the horizon and started sinking into a sea of warm tones. Cedric glanced towards (Y/N), seeing the beauty in front of them as a reflection in her eyes. He wanted to tell her, so badly. But the fear of messing up everything held him back until his thoughts vanished when she turned her head towards him too.

“I’m cold.” (Y/N) grumped with a slight smile.

Cedric’s arms had an irreplaceable feeling to them and (Y/N) wished time would stop. She did have feelings for him anyways…

“Hey I have to tell you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“(Y/N)..I’ve wanted to tell you..but I don’t really know how to.”

“Can I say it first?”

“Wait what??”

“Wait, were you not going to say..oh my god did I misunderstand..shoot I- “

Frantic speeches were then cut off by a soft touch of lips. A simple warmth spread through both their bodies immediately into a rapid fire of feelings.

Cedric pulled away.

“So you were thinking the same thing as me.”

They both laughed as their cheeks heated up and they looked at the sky again. The sun has now almost completely disappeared into the dark abyss of mountains.

(Y/N) broke the silence. “You know, I thought of you during the game..and a lot of other times. *chuckles* Because the sunset kept coming up in my mind, and I remembered when you told me a word for this..view.”

“Is that why you wanted to come up here? I just thought you wanted a bigger gesture to say something..I’m just glad I had the same words in mind.”

“I like you. A lot. Sorry, I just wanted to say it.”

“I like you too. Way more than I thought earlier because I was scared, but now..yeah.”

(Y/N) grinned and a mutual understanding passed through their eyes; before wasting another second, they kissed again. Slowly and gently, as the sky turned darker.

Cedric whispered against her lips. “You’re my abendrot.”

| previous | masterlist |

extra a/n: lol this was so much like a disney movie ending pls- I’m going to start writing angst,,,

#cedric x y/n #cedric diggory #cedric x reader #cedric imagine #cedric diggory fluff #abendrot series #fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter masterlist #harry potter fluff #x y/n #cedric fanfiction #cedric #bts #harry potter series #cedric diggory series

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fortisfiliae · 4 years

Text

Promised Part 7 - Tom Riddle x reader

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 3.1k

Part 7 - Gift Giving

“So this is the last part of the house. The bedrooms,” you said, after giving Tom a quick tour around the mansion. “The guestroom is right at the end of the hallway.”

Tom peered towards the half-open door to the guestroom, that the house-elves were preparing for him.

“This right there is Elsie’s room, next to it is the master bedroom. And this,” you said, leaning onto a door. “Is my room.”

He turned back to you.

“Want to come in?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

There was a sense of excitement in the air, letting Tom enter your room. It was something so private, it felt like you let him walk straight into your head. But you wanted to be nice. He still seemed crushed from the argument he had had with his grandfather and uncle and you thought it would make him feel better if you showed him he was welcome here.

“Take a seat if you want. Anywhere,” you said and went over to sit on your bed.

Tom slowly walked across the room towards your desk, his eyes incidentally scanning your belongings. He sat down on the chair by the desk and looked at the framed picture of you and your family that stood there.

“Sorry about my mother,” you mentioned when you noticed what he was inspecting.

Tom looked at you. “What do you mean?”

“She can be a bit brash, you know. When she asked you to stay earlier. But she usually means well.”

“Oh,” he spoke. “I didn’t mind actually. You know my family. They’re brash. And not the good kind.”

“Fair,” you agreed. “Have they always been that way?”

“Since I can remember at least.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I’m sorry,” you then said.

“For what? That’s just how it is. They have their ways and I have mine.”

“Right. Did you know they would bring up the unbreakable vow?“

“No… I had no idea. They’re idiots. Just stupid. Why ask for more each time? They always want to be a step ahead for nothing.”

“What did you say to them?” you asked, hiding that you already knew.

“That I wouldn’t do it. They took our word for it then and that should be enough. They can’t force us to do a vow.”

“Are they mad at you?”

“Yes. But they’ll come around. It wasn’t our first argument and it won’t be our last.”

You pondered if you should say what you were thinking. Maybe it was a bit too much, but Tom didn’t seem bothered talking about his family. So you went on: “Do you ever wish it could have been different? To grow up with your parents, I mean. That would have made it easier, don’t you think?”

Tom smiled weakly, his eyes wandered across the floor and he shook his head. “Wishing for something won’t make it happen. And no. It would have been quite the same, I think. Maybe even worse.”

“Worse?”

“You’ve heard how Marvolo talks about my parents. His daughter and a muggle. A stain in the bloodline he said, didn’t he?” Tom chuckled lowly.

“But if they loved each other that shouldn’t have mattered to him.”

His eyebrows rose in what looked like a strange form of amusement. “Well, that’s a whole other story.”

You frowned. What did that even mean? You had heard all kinds of rumours about the Gaunt family and how Tom’s parents had met but never would have thought that one of them might be true.

“Have they-”

Tom shook his head as he got up, making it clear that he wasn’t going to talk about it. He walked across the room towards you, fiddling something out from the inner pocket of his jacket.

You had gone too far apparently and wondered if he was pulling out his wand or wanted to leave, but as you opened your mouth again, he sat down beside you and looked into your eyes.

“I’m going to tell you,” he said. “Not now though. You’re going to know everything about me eventually. Someday.”

“Someday then,” you repeated. “What have you got there?”

He held the thing from his jacket in his hand now. It was a package that seemed a bit squished as if it had barely fit into the pocket.

“Hold on,” he said and waved his wand at it, to smooth out the wrinkles on the paper. It was a present, a rectangular box, covered in dark green gift wrap.

“I thought it would be impolite to come over for lunch without bringing at least a little Christmas gift.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” you said as he handed over the present.

“Go on, open it,” he said and motioned with his hand.

So you did and quickly found out what the package contained. A small handwritten book, full of potions recipes.

“Nicked it from my uncle when he wasn’t looking,” Tom said. “So you better don’t mention it to him.”

“Oh great,” you laughed as you flipped through it. “Wow, I haven’t heard of any of these.”

“None of them are taught in school. I thought you’d like them. Didn’t seem like the ones we do with Slughorn were much of a challenge for you.”

The book looked as if it had been used a lot. The thin black binder was frayed and faded, and the edges of the pages were crinkled. On every other page, the handwriting changed, so it seemed that many different people had written the recipes. Poisons, antidotes and bewitchments you had never heard of were all listed, neatly explained and completed with full lists of ingredients.

“Where did your uncle get this from?” you asked, still looking through it.

“I’m not sure. Knockturn Alley perhaps, or on some market. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had added a few ones himself.”

As peculiar as it was, not many people could say they got a book of dark magic and probably illegal potions for Christmas.

“What an unusual gift. I do like it. Thank you, really!” you said and opened your arms to hug him, out of pure habit, but froze when you saw his stern expression, your arms still open.

He looked into your eyes again, seemed to think for a moment and finally nodded to let you hug him. Just like when you had held hands, he was stiff and rigid, it felt like he was uncomfortable. You retracted, but as soon as you let go, he wrapped his arms around you and held you a little tighter, extending the embrace for a few more seconds.

There was a ghost of a smile on his face when you sat back straight and he was about to say something when the door flew open.

Tummy, one of the house-elves, stood in the door frame. “Miss, the guestroom is ready. Mister Riddle, Sir, please follow me.”

“Great,” Tom whispered sarcastically under his breath, got up and followed the elf.

You quickly hid the book under your pillow and called after them: “It’d be nice if you could knock next time, Tummy!”

“Sorry Miss! Will knock!” you heard him from the hallway.

When Mother called for dinner in the evening you picked up Tom from the guest room and went downstairs.

Sitting at the table together was a bit awkward at first and no one said anything. It seemed that your parents were still thinking of the incident from lunch, but didn’t want to talk about it in front of Tom. You didn’t know what to say either and Tom wasn’t one to talk much in general.

“Tom?” Elsie said all of a sudden, breaking the silence.

“Yes?” he answered and you looked back and forth between the two.

“Did you know I’ll go to Hogwarts too next term?” Elsie went on, a very proud tone in her voice.

He grinned while picking up some green beans with his fork. “I did know that, yes.”

“I haven’t gotten the letter yet, so technically I don’t know if I’ll get in, but my parents said it will come on my eleventh birthday.”

“I’m sure it will.”

He had barely finished his last word when Elsie asked the next thing.

“What’s your favourite subject?”

“Um… Defence Against The Dark Arts, I think,” Tom said. “It’s interesting enough.”

“Why?”

“Well,” he took a second to think. “I like to be prepared.”

“And you’re in Slytherin, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Do you have a favourite house?”

You caught your parents exchanging looks and smiling at each other.

“Um… Well,” Elsie began. “I think they’re all nice. But Gryffindor is the best I guess.”

Tom clicked his tongue and shook his head jokingly. “Shame,” he said.

“Do you play Quidditch?” Elsie asked.

“No, I’m not into sports.”

“But can you fly?”

“Yes, I’m a decent flyer.”

She looked at your parents for a moment and whispered to Tom: “Do you think you can show me? How to fly a broom. I got one for Christmas, you see. And I-”

“Elsie,” Father said laughing. “Let the boy eat, please.”

“No, I can show you,” Tom said. “It’s the least I can do to show my respect after you’re letting me stay here.”

“That’s very kind of you Tom,” Mother said. “And you can stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you. I won’t bother you for long though,” he answered.

Dessert was served and Elsie peppered Tom with questions about brooms until Father finally told her to leave him alone.

You thought of the book he had gifted you and knew that your parents would be pleased to hear that at least one member of the Gaunt family had manners. They didn’t need to know exactly what it was about.

“Tom gave me a Christmas present earlier,” you said.

He shot you a quick look as if to ask you if you were out of your mind telling your parents about this. You ignored him.

“Oh really?” Father asked. “What is it?”

“A Potions book. Handwritten. It looks very rare,” you said and looked at Tom who was still staring at you. “It’s like an extended version of our school books. I can use it to perfect my skills. Maybe I’ll even get an O on my N.E.W.T.s because of it.”

“Oh lovely,” Mother said. “Where have you got that from?”

“Diagon Alley,” Tom lied and seemed to be more relaxed now.

“Very nice,” Mother said and turned towards you. “But you didn’t have anything for him, did you?”

“No,” you mumbled.

“Well, let’s talk about that another time. Tom, have you heard about the time when we went on a trip to Italy?”

Later that night, when you lay in bed, you pulled the book out from under your pillow and held it for a while. It probably wasn’t even meant to be so special, but the fact that Tom had thought of giving you a present for Christmas, was not what you would have expected.

And you hadn’t even wasted a single thought about getting him something. How ignorant.

You wondered how he felt about that. If he even felt about that, one way or another.

Your fingertip ran up and down the book spine countless times while you stared up onto the ceiling. You had to get him something. Something special.

And then you wondered if he couldn’t sleep either. If he wanted to talk for just a bit as well. If he thought about lying next to you, too. You could try to sneak out of your room and over to the guest room. Your parents wouldn’t like that of course, but you were going to marry him. They had to get used to the thought. And if you were quiet enough, they wouldn’t even notice.

You sat up slowly, put the book back under your pillow and tiptoed to the door of your room. Turning the doorknob as quietly as possible and holding your breath, you looked out into the dark hallway. You wouldn’t even need light, you knew this hallway like the back of your hand. Fifteen, maybe twenty quick steps and you would be right by the door to the guest room. So you took the first step out of your room.

“Miss!” a squeaky voice whispered in the dark from below.

It was Tummy, standing there alone.

“Tummy?” you asked quietly. “What are you doing here?”

“Miss, master told Tummy to keep watch all night. So that Mister Riddle wouldn’t disturb you in your room.”

Great. Your parents were a few steps ahead.

“Can Tummy get you anything, Miss?”

“No, I… I just thought I heard something,” you sighed. “Does Father really force you to stay up all night? You can go downstairs to sleep if you want to.”

“No, Miss, no,” the elf said and smiled. “Tummy sleeps right here on the floor. I have very good ears, yes. I hear every little noise, you see? I will wake up whenever I hear something and alert the masters.”

Unbelievable. They had thought of everything.

“I see,” you said. “But I’m not afraid Tom would disturb me. You really can go downstairs.”

“Miss, Tummy is thankful for your offer, but I must follow the master's order. Tummy doesn’t mind it.”

“Alright then,” you gave up. “Hang on though.”

You went back into your room, walked up to your bed and fetched one of the three pillows from there.

“Take this at least,” you told the elf and gave him the pillow. “It’s big enough for you to sleep on.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. Please.”

“I insist,” you said with a jokingly strict tone.

Tummy smiled, took the pillow and nodded. “Thank you, Miss. Tummy is very grateful.”

“Good night, Tummy.

“Good night, Miss.”

The following day went by quicker than you had wanted it to. Father, Tom and Elsie went outside in the late morning to give Elsie her long-awaited flying lessons. They were a great team, against all expectations. You watched them from the kitchen window and noticed how Father held himself back from helping. He kept a careful eye on the two when Tom showed Elsie how to mount the broom correctly.

Elsie listened intently to everything Tom told her, tried to follow each step precisely and could properly hold herself in the air after a while. Father and Tom seemed incredibly proud, not only of themselves but of your little sister.

You could have watched them for hours, but Mother had called you to the reading room, to go to Diagon Alley via the Floo Network. You had asked her to take her with you since you wanted to get some new quills for school and a proper Christmas present for Tom.

Thankfully Diagon Alley wasn’t too busy, yet it took you a while to find an appropriate gift. You hadn’t even known where to start looking, but when you finally saw it in the shop window, you knew it was perfect.

Back home, Elsie, Father and Tom were just walking back inside, their cheeks and noses all plump from the hours they had spent out in the cold. Elsie jumped through the living room excitedly and told Mother and you how high up she was able to fly now. She had even attempted to do some advanced twists but almost had taken a fall.

Father patted Tom on the shoulder and thanked him for his time, which made Tom’s ears turn almost as pink as his cheeks and nose.

After congratulating your sister on her achievement, you turned to Tom and said: “Would you follow me? There’s something I want to show you.”

You took him to the reading room, where the parcel you got him stood under the desk.

“Long day, huh?” you asked when you closed the door behind you.

He nodded. “Long but successful. Your sister is a quick learner. She could make it on the Quidditch team one day.”

“Thank you for teaching her,” you said. “We all appreciate it.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

Now that you were with him, you didn’t know where to start. Should you tell him about lying in bed with the book in your hand, thinking of him? That you almost would have knocked on his door in the middle of the night, if Tummy had not been there? That could sound terribly invasive. What if he wouldn’t have wanted you to come? Now that you thought about it, you were glad that Tummy had spoiled your plan. Nighttime certainly made you too reckless.

“I hope you slept well,” you mumbled mindlessly. Merlin, why would you say that?

“I um…” Tom looked at you surprisedly. “Yes, I did.”

“Good.”

“If it wasn’t for the elf in the hallway, it would have been even better,” Tom added nonchalantly.

How would he also know about Tummy? Did he leave his room too? You scanned him questioningly and Tom smirked.

“Father is overprotective,” you answered.

“Shame, isn’t it?”

“Certainly.”

You looked at each other, both with mischievous smiles on your faces. It would not have been awkward at all if you had gone over to his room last night. Tummy be damned.

“I thought of your present a lot,” you went on, changing the subject. “And I decided I had to get you something as well.”

“Not necessary. Your family let me stay the night, that’s more than en-”

“Stop it,” you snapped playfully and went to get the parcel from under the table. “There’s not a lot of things I thought suited Tom Riddle. But this does, I believe.”

He took the box with both hands, as it was quite big, placed it onto the desk and pulled off the top.

“Oh,” he breathed when he looked inside.

“Her name is Nagini. She’s not fully grown yet.”

Tom took a dark green, medium-sized snake out of the box and let it curl around his arm.

“Did you know?” he asked.

“Know what?”

“That I’m a Parselmouth.”

“Yes,” you nodded. “People in Hogwarts were talking about it years ago and then I thought of your house and your relation to Salazar Slytherin. It made sense.”

“Thank you,” he said genuinely, looking into your eyes before he watched Nagini gliding from one of his arms to the other. “Stretch out your arm for me.”

You did and let your fingers touch his. Both of you now stood there with one arm pointing towards each other. The snake slithered around Tom’s arm, quickly making its way towards his outstretched fingers and over to yours. It hissed quietly while wandering up to your shoulder.

“She likes you,” Tom said softly. “A lot.”

Credit where credit is due: My boyfriend came up with the house-elf’s name. I don’t know where that came from but I won’t make him stop. He also gave him a short backstory. I might try to implement it into the story line if you’re interested.

Please consider leaving a comment and tell me what you think so far :) They motivate me so much to keep writing! Let me know if you want to be tagged, or untagged. Thank you for reading!

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ikevamp-shrine · 4 years

Note

Hiya! I just wanted to know if you take headcanon requests and if yes I just wanted to see your take on the ikevamp boys playing seven minutes in heaven? I just love the way you write so much I had to ask ☺️ 💕

Thank you for requesting ❤️ I hope you enjoy this and if you would like me to write for Vincent, Dazai, Shakespeare, Sebastian and Jean just say so (I couldn’t really think of anything for them but I can try again if y’all want it). And thank you for the compliment hun☺️.

Author: @ikevamp-shrine

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Characters: Le Comte, Arthur, Theo, Leonardo, Mozart, Napoleon, Isaac

Prompt: seven minutes in heaven

Warnings: none

It was just supposed to be a small get together, or banquet as Le Comte calls it, no one would have thought it would come to this.... playing seven minutes in heaven.

Mozart

“This is annoying,” Mozart huffed as he once again shoved a mop handle off his form, the wooden cleaning tool quickly falling back against his scowling form.

“At least look at the bright side of our predicament Wolf,” you mumbled wracking your brain for the bright side of being shoved in a utilities closet by a bunch of vampires.

Mozart scoffed, you could feel his eye roll from your cramped position in front of the musician even if you couldn’t see it.

“There is no bright side. We’re in a dark, disgusting storage closet when I could be composing and you could be wasting your miserable life away.”

“Wow Wolf, you sure know how to charm a person,” you laughed weakly trying to make yourself smaller so you wouldn’t enrage the agitated man even further.

Mozart was quiet for a moment, his fingers drumming against the wall in a simple melody. He sighed gently, huffing once more and scrunching his nose, “It doesn’t nessessarly bothering me that much when it’s you, here with me.”

You felt him reach up to sweep a stray lock of his hair away as a smirk slowly warped your lips.

“Aww, so you do like me.”

Mozart sneered at your words, “do not flatter yourself.”

Theo

“Stop touching me hondjie,” Theo grumbled as he pushed your arm away from him.

You sighed, growling internally at his thorny attitude. You knew this was a bad idea- playing seven minutes in heaven that is, especially with the crude art dealer.

“I can’t really move anywhere else now can I you ass?” You mumbled letting your head fall back onto the dark wall, a frown on your face.

“Idiot.”

“Douche.”

“Mutt.”

“Soggy sock.”

“Dramatic- did you just call me a soggy sock?” Theo questioned, interrupting his insult with a baffled tone of voice.

You huffed and rolled your eyes at his words only to push his hand away that magically found its way against your thigh.

Theo shifted, knocking over a broom, and slammed his hand above your head against the wall behind you.

“I asked you a question Hondjie,” Theo growled deeply, grasping your chin between his digits. It surprised you- how gentle his fingers were against your skin. His thumb slowly traveled down your jaw to tug at the plush pad of your bottom lip.

His sweet, syrupy scent mixed with leather and the woody aroma of the whiskey he was nursing just a few moments away was intoxicating. The way it wrapped around your form like a blanket made your knees weak and your head spin with need.

His lips fell to your ear, his tongue licking a wet strip along the curve forcing shivers to spill over your spine.

His breath fanned over your neck as he huskily groaned out his next words, “be a good pup and hold still.”

Leonardo

“Leonardo?” You questioned, confusion lacing the waves of your voice.

You had been in this closet all of three minutes and not once had Leonardo said a thing. The only response you received from the polymath was light snoring.

Your eyes widened slightly as your lips parted from your jaw slackening in shock.

How the hell is he sleeping standing up, you thought.

Reaching out a hand to feel his warm chest; his slow breathing pushed your hand out slightly with each intake of breath. Sliding your fingers along his breast you couldn’t help but huff at how broad he was. It felt as if it took forever to finally reach his shoulder to shake him, albeit- you admit- probably a little too roughly, “Leo wake up,” you try again.

Since it was dark in the cramped closet there was no way you would have been able to see, that in fact, Leonardo’s eyes were cracked open, lazy smirk tugging at his lips.

Leonardo shot out an arm to wrap itself around your waist, simultaneously pulling you flush against his body and suffocating you with his addictively sweet scent.

“Quiet now Cara Mia,” he chuckled lowly sending a shiver down your spine at his warm lips tickling your ear.

No matter how much you didn’t want to leave his embrace you struggled against his hold, growling, “don’t you dare-,” the pureblood interrupted you by planting a kiss to the skin of your neck.

“Close your eyes little one,” he whispered reaching up to stroke your hair as your face burned and lips refused to move.

Soon enough his light snores once more shifted through the dark air.

Le Comte

“Ma cherie, you look ravishing tonight.”

His voice snaps you out of your anxious trace

The small utilities closest you both were crammed into was small and dark. Each breath you took forced your chests to brush gently against each other.

Le Comte’s long leg was trapped in between both of yours causing you to practically sit on his knee.

“Thank you Comte, you look very handsome yourself.” My god, you thought, could this be anymore awkward?

The rustle of clothing penetrated your ear drums as you felt his warm fingers ghost over your cheek, lips, and chin to trace the slight jutted bone of your collar, only for his digits to soon grasp your own. Bringing your hand to his lips Comte planted a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

“Relax my dear, I can hear your heart pounding,” he paused after hearing you intake a deep breath. The pureblood leaned foward, his arms wrapping around your waist, hot breath fanning over your neck, his fangs shadowing the curve of your ear, “besides, we have five minutes left- you can decide how they shall progress.”

Arthur

“By Jove you’re a cheeky little minx,” Arthur’s gasps peppered your ear as the clicking of his belt buckle sounded through the air.

The closest was dark and cramped, but your hands still worked diligently to free his throbbing erection, his own fingers working at the buttons of your shirt. You had wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face and so far you had been successful.

“Stop talking and kiss me.”

Arthur didn’t waste anytime fulfilling your request; the moans sliding passed your lips being swallowed by his own.

A guttural groan slipped from Arthur as you shifted your wrist gripping his manhood. His warm, soft lips pecked at the skin of your neck; his wet, pink tongue darting out to taste the sweat on your flesh.

“We have two minutes luv,” choked out the writer as your other hand slid up his heaving chest to squeeze lightly at his neck.

“Well then, we better make them last.”

Let’s just say when you two came out of the closet, the room, originally filled with people, was clear of any other beings.

Napoleon

“Napoleon?”

“Yes nununche?”

“You’re grabbing my butt.”

His hum rumbled deep in his chest, “my apologies, it was an accident.”

“Napoleon, you’re still grabbing my butt.”

“And it’s still an accident.”

Napoleon nonchalant words forced a laugh to tumble from your grinning lips. Tracing the hard curve of his thigh you found your way to his butt and pinched it tightly.

Napoleon took a sharp intake of breath and chuckled quietly, the closet was dark but he could still imagine the grin splitting across your face reaching ear to ear. He leaned forward, noses bumping each other in a quick kiss, and placed a hand above your head against the wall effectively trapping you in place.

Ghosting his lips across your cheek the previous emperor of France stole a small peck on your plush lips, traveling further down until his eyelashes fluttered against the bone of your jaw.

Giggling at the ticklish sensation you grabbed his hips between your digits tugging his warm body closer.

Wet noises assaulted your ears as his soft lips placed opened mouth kisses to the curve of your neck, Napoleon’s fangs circling over your skin like a teasing tango.

Your grip tightened, “- easy there nununche, don’t get too excited now,” Napoleon spoke, his heated whispers blowing through your hair.

“Well damn Leon’ I’m already there.”

Isaac

“Are you okay?”

Isaac was startled at your question. His hands were placed firmly on the wall behind his shivering form, his nails digging at the paint to gain some sort of balance.

You shifted your knee stuck between his thighs causing a choked gasp to tumble past his thinned lips.

“Don’t move-,” Isaac’s strained whisper was followed by a whimper as his grip on the wall slipped. Gravity forced his body down resulting in his clothed cock grazing against your warm leg once more.

He could practically hear your blood pumping at this proximity and it was driving him mad.

Isaac’s fangs pulsed, his throat burned, his eyes watering with embarrassed tears. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. In his mind Isaac spoke a silent prayer to make it out of this god forsaken closet without stripping you bare and making you speak his name like a curse as he gulped down your very life essence.

“Isaac,” you paused your whispering to twist a lock of Isaac’s cherry blossom hair around your finger, enticing a wanton whimper from the flushed male, “you can drink from me. I trust you.”

Suddenly you were pinned to the wall by a heaving, trembling vampire.

“Please forgive me.” Your desperate moans followed soon after.

SHOTS MATERLISTS

MASTERLIST

ABCs SMUT MASTERLIST

506 notes · View notes

willowbleedsonpaper · 4 years

Note

Hiya! I love your writing! Would you consider writing a draco malfoy x reader soulmate au? Maybe post war? Like you feel a harsh burn when you meet your soulmate but it immediately stops when you look in theirs eyes?

Carrot Cake

A/N: Thank you anon for being my first request and I hope you enjoy it!

W.C. : 4500

Warnings: A little bit of swearing.

Soulmates were a tricky thing. Even more when you found your perfect match in the entire world by the touch of skin against skin, showing you what true pain was before it all went away with the look of the one person that would love you no matter what. The fire that they ignited in you being washed away by you swimming in their eyes, diving into their gaze and letting it take all the pain away.

That sounded like a fairy tale, didn´t it?

Well try it at school, with thousands of teenagers looking for the one they would love until they took their last breath. It got intense at times.

You had witnessed the desperation of many at the very halls of Hogwarts. Girls and boys alike, walking way to closely to the one they thought was the one for them. “Accidentally” brushing hands to just get the disappointing feeling of a sweaty hand or the looks of confusion in the person. Many didn’t even try to date until they were sure it was their soulmate.

“I’m saving me the pain of a heartbreak.” they would say as they carried on with their lives.

It was funny to watch when two people found out they were soulmates. Your favorite one being at a Quidditch match. It was almost summer and the uniforms were just the necessary layers to prevent they passed out because of the heat. Hufflepuff was playing against Ravenclaw, the two seekers flying after the golden snitch at such speed they were flashes before the eyes of the crowd.

The Ravenclaw seeker had the snitch at the slightest stretch of her arm, but the Hufflepuff team couldn’t lose so he did the only thing that came to his mind. He forced his broom to the right, clashing his body against the one of the Ravenclaw seeker.

The matched stopped completely at the cries from both seekers rolling on the ground, their fall wasn’t that high so everyone stared at them with wide eyes as they screamed in pain. Only when one student reacted everyone understood what was happening. They were soulmates.

“LOOK AT HER, YOU FOOL!” someone yelled from the back of the crowd, and so he did. He forced the pain aside and opened his eyes meeting tear stained ones.

They felt as a cold bucket of water was poured over them, the pain fading into a feeling of bliss and fulfillment. The young seekers had found each other.

But you? You were neutral. You see, you were sure neither of your friends was your soulmate or you would have known since the moment you shook hands for the first time. And it wasn’t like you could go around touching every single person you crossed paths with. So you took the matter with patience.

One thing was for sure: You would meet your soulmate. Whether you were eleven, sixteen, thirty or fifty years old was up to fate.

How ever your friends, or more like one friend, was extremely worried about you.

“You won’t find them if you don’t look for them, Y/N” Hermione scolded you with a stern look. This was the third time she had brought up the subject in the week, whether she did it out of genuine concern or just mere curiosity of who you were destined to be, you didn’t know.

“That’s easy for you to say ‘Mione,” you said with the tilt of you head “You found yours when you were eleven.” your eyes falling to her and Ron’s hands together.

She rolled her eyes, dropping his boyfriend’s hand before she turned to the dark haired boy at your right “Harry?” she said, looking for the some kind of support.

He just shrugged, giving her a tight smile before returning to the book he seemed to have glued to his body. You’ll have to talk to him about it soon.

Hermione’s scoff returned your attention to her “All I’m saying is: It wouldn’t hurt if you made the effort, you know?” she said in defeat “Your soulmate is not going to drop out of the sky or go and knock at your door. You have to get out there and try.”

You smiled at her, and she returned it with a hopeful glint in her eyes “You’re right,” you said, pausing a little “Although he might drop out of the sky. We live in world with flying brooms, remember?” you said with an innocent smile.

Ron and Harry snickered around you, bursting in a full fit of laughter as Hermione yanked his hands away from yours. “You’re impossible.” she grunted, crossing her hands over her chest and turning away from you.

“Just leave her be, Hermione.” Harry defended you “If she doesn’t want to push it that’s up to her.”

You gave him a genuine smile, mouthing a thank you his way. He nodded his head with a smile, returning to the open page in front of him. Harry was right, you weren’t going to push it.

**********************************************************************

You couldn’t deny that after the war panicked was a current state you found yourself at least once a day. What if Hermione was right? You could have made the effort back at Hogwarts to find your soulmate, but no one could assure you that he or she was there.

Still you would have known. What if they died at war? Many students died at the hands of Voldemort’s forces, students and adults alike that had every possibility of being your soulmate. Age wasn’t a problem and you knew that first hand. The story of Professor Lupin and Tonks was well known among the wizards, besides the fact that you had meet the little Teddy Lupin in one of your visits to Harry. The boy was proof that the Soulmate bond was never wrong.

No one ever told you anything about what happened if your soulmate died before you realized who they are. Yes, you met but you never touched or interacted enough to realize you were soulmates.

At 25 years of being alive you had meet thousands of people who you had never even shared the same space. What if you already met them and you never realized because the interaction was so fast. Was that even possible?

The sound of the bell at your door ringing brought you back to reality, you stood from the stool you sat and straighten your apron before the person on the other side of the counter got there.

“Hello,” you greeted them with a smile “What can I get for you today?”.

After the war the last thing you wanted to do was work at the Ministry of Magic or anything that could put your life in danger again. So you worked to save enough money to open your own café, the recipes of your mother and your love for coffee making it success after the first year of opening. It also helped that the upper part of the little building worked as your home. A flat with a room for you and a big open space for the living room and a small but functional kitchen.

The person in front of you was clearly a new customer, reading over the menu hanged high on the wall as he took all the options in “I’ll have a black coffee with a slice of the double chocolate cake, please.” he said with a smile.

You nodded your head “Be ready in just a second!” you said turning to the coffee maker to get a fresh pot. He went to the stools that faced the busy street of Diagon Alley, the wooden bar filled with all kinds of beautiful plants that Neville had once showed you and you ended up loving.

The door burst open again, the sound of the outside world filling the place with the flowing chatter of the group that had just entered, taking one of the tables from far in the corner.

“Here you go, Sir.” you told the man waiting patiently on the bar.

He turned to you with a smile, taking the bag from your hand “Thank you!” he said, paying you and waving goodbye. You hadn’t even noticed the crowd that had gathered in the register until someone spoke from behind you.

“Well if it’s none other than Y/N Y/L/N,” said Blaise Zabini with a grin in his face, his eyes roaming all over your body before they landed on your eyes “Couldn’t find a better job?” he asked, the smug look in his face making you want nothing more than to throw the hot pot of coffee in his clearly expensive clothes.

But you held yourself back, you had dealt with clients like him before. With maybe too much force you placed the pot in the counter, putting a fake smile on your face “What can I get for you today?” you asked kindly, hoping the tick you felt in your eye was only a game your mind was playing on you.

“Awww,” he said with a fake pout of his lip “Sensitive subject?” he said with little voice. The ones accompanying him laughed under their breath, taking a glance their way you recognize them as Pansy Parkinson and Gregory Goyle. She was still one of the prettiest yet meanest persons you had ever met, her sense of fashion hadn’t changed much, fortunately, her looks the only attribute you could save from her. Goyle was the same as he was back at Hogwarts, he looked more mature and adult-like but the chuckle at what Zabini had just said proved you that not much had changed.

“Are you going to order something or can I carry on with the rest of the line?” you asked, your patience starting to wear thin as more people got behind them.

“Answer me this first and maybe I’ll order something,” he said, resting his arms over the counter. The bell to the door sounded again but you paid it no mind, your hands starting to get sweaty at the sardonic look in his face “Is it true you haven’t found your soulmate yet?”

You stared at him, your eyes turning into a glare before you took a menacing step forward “This is not an interrogation” you said lowly “Order something or get out of my shop.” you snapped.

He raised his arms in defeat, a breathy laugh coming out of his lips “Whether you wanted it or not you just answered my question.” he laughed, glancing back to Pansy and Goyle “No wonder your so moody.”

“Zabini,” someone said beside him, your eyes shifting doubtfully to the side to see a tall man. He had serious face, his hazel eyes cold as he stared almost in annoyance at him “Did you choose this place only to bother her or are you actually going to order something?” he growled.

“Oh, c’mon Theo. We were just having a casual chat.” he said innocently “You remember Y/L/N, don’t you?” he said pointing at you.

He only spared a glance at you, his attention shifting quickly as another man joined them. Draco Malfoy.

“Of course I do,” Theo answered “I also remember how she once hexed your ass so bad you couldn’t leave your room for a week.” he said, erasing the smug look from his face “Need I continue or are you going to finally order something? Is the least you can do after making her lose her time on you.”

Blaise was fuming when he turned to you, never meeting your eyes “Three black coffees, one with cream and sugar and whatever they want.” he grunted, turning in his heel before you could even answer.

You turned to Theo, giving him a small yet genuine smile “What can I get for the two of you?” you asked, seeing his eyes go over the selection of cakes you had displayed.

“A mocha and a cappuccino, and one slice of the carrot cake.” he said, giving you a nod.

“I’ll have it by your table in a moment.” you told him, making a move with your hand for the next person in line to order.

They both muttered a thank you, keeping your eyes in the back of their heads as they went to the table their friends sat at. You shook your head, facing the lady next in line “Thank you for your patience.” you said, getting over with all the orders before you got to work.

The girl that you hired to help you moved at such a speed you almost missed her when she was about to take the order to the Slytherins “Not that one!” you said, stopping her before she was out of the kitchen “I’ll take it.” you mumbled grabbing the tray.

“Are you sure?” she said with a cock of her eyebrow “‘Cause they weren’t that nice before.” she said bitterly.

“I’m sure, Raven.” you said with a smile “You can start making the batter for the carrot cake, that was the last slice.”

She smiled, nodding her head before she turned, half the ingredients out before you even made it out of the kitchen. You walked to the table, putting a smile on your face “Three black coffees, one with sugar and cream,” you repeated their entire order as you placed each item in the table, a satisfactory look in your face as you ended “Anything else I can get you?”

They all stayed silent, never meeting your eyes. You catched a glimpse of Draco rolling his eyes, his eyes meeting yours “That would be all, thank you.” he said.

You nodded and turned, hearing a small part of their conversation.

“I didn’t order that.” Draco muttered as Theo placed the cake in front of him.

“Did you really think I forgot your birthday last week?” he asked, and you couldn’t help the smile that krept on your face. “Happy birthday, mate.”

They were the last ones to leave the shop that day, ordering all kinds of drinks they put their eyes on. You wondered if they would be able to sleep that night.

“Uh...Y/N?” Raven called you from the front part of the shop.

“Yes, darling?” you said, walking out to where she stood cleaning the tables. Her eyes shifting from you to the untouched table.

“I think this is for you.” she said shakily, handing you a neatly folded napkin.

You looked at her with a frown, opening the piece of paper to see it was a note. A beautifully written note.

I apologize for my idiotic friends and their behavior.

It had no signature but you had a pretty good guess as to who had left it. You turned to Raven with a soft smile “It’s just note Raven, nothing wrong with that.” you said, your smile dropping as she moved her body and let you see what she had been hiding. There in the table was a very generous tip, one that you hadn’t seen anyone leave.

“Merlin,” you mumbled turning to Raven who still had a panicked look in her eyes.

“Let’s close alright, it’s getting late.”

**********************************************************************

It had been two weeks since the incident with Blaise Zabini and even if they had been of your best customers you felt relieved when none of them had showed their face again. Of course, you weren’t that lucky.

It was a slow morning, friday mornings where no one went looking for coffee and instead saved their money and energy for the weekend. So, the bell ringing made you jump in anticipation until you saw them, Theo Nott and Draco Malfoy walking inside the shop.

You took a deep breath, watching them near the counter “Morning,” you smiled “What can I get you?” you asked.

You were glad it was them and not the others, surprisingly being the nicest ones. But still you couldn’t help but feel intimidated, they both have cold stares and a permanent tired looking face.

“Morning Y/N,” said Theo, surprising you by using your first name “Two black coffees, please.”

You nodded almost out of their sight before you heard Draco call “Do you have carrot cake?” he asked you, a chuckle emerging from Theo before he turned to pick a table. You smiled at him nodding your head, he thanked you and joined his friend at the table, slumping in his seat.

You couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with him. You remembered him from school, always with a confident air to him, a bright smile that had everyone at his feet. He was a Malfoy for Godric's sake! Now he looked… defeated.

“Two black coffees and carrot cake,” you said once at their table “Fresh out of the oven.” you smiled down at him and he gave you a small smile, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. “Let me know if you need anything else.” you said.

You moved your hands to grab the tray, Draco’s hand reaching for his mug at the same time, knuckled brushing slightly. You felt a hot sensation, a gasp leaving your lips as you brought your hand up to your chest.

“Everything alright?” Theo asked from your side, your eyes never leaving Draco as you hoped to maybe see a reaction. His eyes dead as they always were.

“Yes...Enjoy your coffee.” you said to quickly, grabbing the tray and running back to the kitchen. You rubbed your thumb over your knuckles, Could it be?

Their voices caught your attention, being the only ones in the shop besides you made it difficult not to eavesdrop. They could probably whisper and you would get every single word they uttered.

“You gotta get out there,” Theo sighed “I know you don’t want to but not all is lost.”

“She was supposed to be the one,” Draco mumbled, his voice void of any emotion “Not fucking Zabini.” he grunted, stabbing his cake with the fork multiple times.

“So Astoria is not your soulmate,” Theo said with a knowing look “You should see it as a win.” he uttered getting a glare from Draco as he stopped the stabbing “You won’t have Daphne as your sister in law, you won’t have to endure their parents ridiculous expectations on you as her husband plus, do you even liked her?” he asked with a frown.

“I was starting to.” he mumbled bitterly.

“Then stop.” Theo ordered “And get yourself together, you don’t want to meet your soulmate and look like your fresh out of Azkaban.” he mumbled, sipping away before he took a look to the hour. He was close to spitting the bitter liquid, placing the cup down “Shit, I’m late.” he said, tapping his pockets before Draco waved a hand in his way.

“Go,” he told him “I got it.”

“Thanks mate,” he said, his eyes scanning the place before they landed on you behind the counter “Y/N!” he called and you poked your head over the counter “Keep the man some company for me, would you?” he said, smiling at the nod you gave him, running out the door before you could say another thing.

Your eyes drifted to Draco, sitting awkwardly at the table. You chuckled, getting up to walk to him, grabbing the empty mugs you cocked your head “Well c’mon, the stools are more comfortable, believe it or not.” you told him, listening to the shuffling sound before his steps filled the shop.

He sat in the one nearer to where you sat behind the counter. You stared at him before it turned weird, you shook your head “Do you want more coffee?” you said, wiggling your eyebrow at him before you said “Carrot cake?”

He laughed softly, giving you his empty mug. You poured him the coffee, bringing the cake out anyway. He gave you a questioning look, and you kept on cutting the slice “With the tip your friend left the last time you were here, I should give you a year worth of cake and coffee.” you laughed, placing the cake in a plate and giving it to him.

He smiled at you, taking the plate before he lowered his head “That would have been me, actually.” he mumbled, and you froze.

“What?” you stuttered, with wide eyes “That was you?” you asked him and he nodded, taking a bite of the cake. “Woah, well thank you,” you said, sitting in your stool “You made a little girl’s day that evening.”

He couldn’t help the disappointing feeling that settled in him, he doubted but the words left his mouth before he could even think about them “You have kids?” he asked.

You stared at him dumbfounded, laughing softly at his assumption “Oh, no.” you said, relief washing over him “Raven, the girl that works with me. She started working so she could buy her first broom.” you shared.

“You gave it all to her?” he asked, and you nodded with smile.

Draco didn’t understand what he was feeling right there with you, but he didn’t want it to stop. This was the happiest he had felt in weeks.

**********************************************************************

Draco’s sporadic buy of coffee turned into daily visits, sometimes accompanied by Theo, but mostly only him. He had his preferred seat, near where you took the orders and prepared the coffee. It was rare the occasion that someone sat on the bar, the place used by lonely customers. It became Draco’s predetermined place.

“Draco,” you said, one day when all the clients were happy and away with their orders “Don’t get me wrong, I love your visits and that you spend so much time here,” he raised an eyebrow when you paused, looking for the right words “Don’t you have a work to go to?”

His entire expression changed, he looked tormented and sad at the same time. He placed his cup down, avoiding your eyes “I’m supposed to be on vacations.” he said in you frown in confusion.

“Draco, as flattered as I am, my coffee shop is not a vacation destination.” you told him and he chuckled, daring to meet your eyes.

“No, I-,” he sighed in defeat “I was supposed to be on my honeymoon right now.” he said.

“What?” you asked leaning in the counter, holding your head in your hands “What happened?”

“She wasn’t my soulmate,” he said bitterly “Zabini ended up being her soulmate and now they are planning their wedding.”

You were very confused and he could tell by the look on your face “Apparently she found a way to fake the bond, did it on me before she found out he was her soulmate.”

You scoffed, and he meet your eyes “What a bitch move.” you mumbled, realizing that you said it out loud “No offense, but you should never do that to someone. Not even I’m that desperate.” you laughed, walking to the register to take Dave’s order. The sweet man that had found your shop the same day Draco and his gang had the first time.

But Draco was focused on the words you had said. Not even I’m that desperate:

You didn’t have a soulmate yet. A spark of hope made his heart flutter as he watched you give the man his order, a kind smile always on your face as you waved him goodbye.

Maybe not all was lost.

**********************************************************************

“You didn’t have to stay so late.” you told Draco, his tall frame leaned against the door as he watched you put in place the last chair. “I literally live here, well, not here but upstairs,” you laughed “You know what I mean.” you said, your face changing to a concerned one “Draco?”

He had stayed silent, through all the cleaning process he had help you wash and put everything in place. You didn’t find it odd, the man was suffering and he had relived all that by sharing it with you. You let him to his thoughts for a moment.

But now he was watching you intently, almost as he was admiring you. You started to feel shaky, and even more when he took a hesitant step towards you, his eyes lighting up when you didn’t take one back yourself.

“Draco, what are you doing?” you asked shakily, crossing your arms over your chest as a way to physically shield you from his burning eyes.

“I want to ty something,” he said, his grey eyes shifting to your hand before they meet your E/C ones. He was inches away from you, if your breathing became any more deeper you chests would brush against each other. But you knew that wouldn’t work.

It had to be your skin against his.

“Y/N?” he called again and you looked at him with glossy eyes, the tears barely staying there. “Can I?” he asked you, his voice so soft you barely heard him.

“I don’t...What if it’s not us?” you asked him, the crack in your voice paining him more than any other thing he had ever gone through.

He took a shaky breath “Do you trust me?” he asked you. You nodded your head immediately and he smiled softly “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” he said, leaning down slightly.

He took one last look at you and then he grabbed your hand.

A cry of pain left your mouth as you felt the warmth spread all over your body, the heat concentrated in your wrist where his hand had touched you. The burning sensation was quickly washed away by his grey eyes on you. The warm feeling of the bond replaced by the cold feeling of his hand.

Draco Malfoy was your soulmate.

You laughed breathlessly, looking at his hand in your wrist before you faced him again. A smile that mirrored your own in his face.

You threw your arms around his neck, taking him by surprise as he stumbled back a little. He placed his hands on your waist and brought you closer to him, his lips finding yours in a soft kiss. He kissed you so softly, running his hand up and down your back, landing again on your sides.

You had your fingers tangled in his hair before he pulled away from you, his eyes still closed before he opened them to see the brightest smile he had ever seen. You kept on playing with his hair, placing soft kisses on his cheeks.

“You taste like carrot cake.”

He chuckled resting his head on your shoulder as he hugged you, letting you hold him as you scratched his scalp with your fingertips. “That’s all your fault,” he muttered, letting go of his hold on you. “I’m glad I found you.” he said, giving you a quick kiss.

“I’m glad I found you too.”

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922 notes · View notes

lilyrachelcassidy · 3 years

Text

Summer Nights (3)

A/N: INDEX

Warnings: alcohol, language, sexual alludes, and... that’s it??

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: @war-sword @paradigmax @winnsmills @idkatee @bforbroadway @okaydraco

So her name was Y/N.

Draco couldn't help himself but wonder about her for the past few days, after their encounter in the restaurant. As he thought more and more of her, he decided she was more of a changeable person, judging on what he had learned about her; timid and coy one day in the lobby when he first arrived, and plainly confident on another when she approached him to return his fucking wand.

And did she believe in that fictive tale about him playing a magician? Did she sense his sudden abashment when she started to question him on the subject?

He blamed himself for the whole situation, which could have never happened if he only were more careful. He assumed he had lost the wand when his mother furiously dragged him back to his hotel room from the bar he had stopped by for a while. Perhaps, it was when he had handed the receptionist, Y/N, the letter, and it just dropped out of his pocket as he was taking an envelope out.

Fortunately for him, it found its way back. So he didn't have to trouble his head with that now, right?

One issue, however, stuck to his thoughts and vividly came back every time he glanced at his hand, only to see blurry words written with a hard-to-efface ink. Of course, by none other than Y/N.

A few days back, she had scribbled her name and a number on his palm, and since then, he tried to figure out what it was for. He knew he couldn't walk out to the city and stop people in the middle of the pavement to ask for an explanation for the note because it would be as irrational and bizarre as it sounds. The second thought was to ask his mother for an additional conjecture about that by sending an owl. But then he quickly remembered, he didn't have access to any of owls here and -- so and so -- he didn't know the address Narcissa was staying at.

So both options were excluded.

Soon enough, however, the situation cropped up. Someday around six in the morning, still sound asleep and immersed in the dreams, the strange, alarming sound rang up in his bedroom, echoing off the walls and waking half of the death of him as he heard it. He flopped off his bed with the sheets falling along with him, and he began looking for the source of the noise. Then he noticed: a white handset and a set of ten digits next to it; he picked it up -- it was only a hotel checking up if he needed anything.

From then on, everything lined up and made a perfectly logical sense in his head -- it was a muggle device to communicate with each other. If you were desperate enough not to meet up with somebody in the real-life, you were likely to click nine digits and either meet with the receiver's voice or voicemail on the other side. So here was a purpose of the number.

Draco also discovered these things were so-called phones. And they were sold in various forms and types like the models of brooms in the Wizarding World -- from less to most exclusive ones. Little did his consciousness helped him, but after an hour, he was already out in the city and walking next to the shops' exhibitions and searching for an electronics store to buy himself one of those.

Why did he want to buy the phone? He could lie and say that it was only in case of emergency. But admitting truthfully to himself, he felt a nagging curiosity about those devices and wanted to understand this part of the muggle world. And something, more of a hunch than reasoning, told him that he soon might be needing one of those.

Later that day, after wandering for almost an hour and stepping into some cafeteria for lunch, he was finally holding a fucking iPhone in his hand. It had a lot of fancy shining buttons and a small, black partly-bitten apple on the back, and some kind of virtual assistant (at least that's what he had heard from a salesman) Siri with a very posh British accent. Having been advised to purchase it, Draco did so even without a second thought.

He paid for it with some muggle money his mother provided him before her departure, and walked out of the store, having it packed in a nice paper bag with a receipt and a SIM card. He decided on opening it when he reaches his room, and meanwhile, look around the area for some entertainment or something in those terms, to preoccupy himself.

Actually, Draco hadn't been too much in foreign countries, and hauling him out to Muggle London was a miracle, much more to Muggle Paris. He could find a similarity, but it was much different here -- cars honking at each other at the traffic jam; countless shops with clothes; restaurants with delicious food; people babbling at one another in French but also in Italian and German, and English. It was chaotic; it was loud, and he had to watch his feet in order to not trip over by someone else.

Draco felt lost in that mess. Random people encouraging him to visit the shops he would never intend to drop by, strangers pushing him in a rush and mumbling indistinct 'Sorry' for stepping on his shoes, some even too bothered to even look at him. Partly, he wished he had never listened to Narcissa and instead spending time with Thoe, Blaise, or whosoever and talking about irrelevant stuff like the score of the last Quiddich match (Banchory Bangers against Falmouth Falcons) or about the latest affairs with the Ministry of Magic.

And what was he even doing here?

In mere seconds, he decided on changing a route back again to the hotel instead of meandering aimlessly and optimistically, waiting for some godsend to find.

What he wasn't, however, considering was actually finding some godsend in front of the revolving doors of the hotel building.

Yet again, as if some supernatural powers brought them to the same place every time, he was standing on the opposite side of the door where Y/N. It was the late afternoon, so instead of wearing the usual white shirt in the composition of black jeans, she had a green top and striped, yellow shorts with a small watch on her wrist.

She was turned, slightly to the side, so it was her profile he saw as she waved probably at one of her friends, smiling broadly. Draco never really paid much attention to the girl, especially to her looks, but now as his eyes roamed over her standing figure in those a little too revealing clothes, he felt a gulp forming in his throat. Her hair was falling on her shoulders, the beam plastered to her face, and she seemed to be a radiating sphere of positivity.

For the last time, she blew her friend a kiss, and then she was looking at him, infinitely shocked at the sight of him behind the window, staring at her. Draco blinked, snatching out of thoughts.

Y/N made her way out, gripping her big handbag and throwing it hastily on the shoulder and a glowing grin waving over her face again. "Nice to see you again," she said. "I thought you would call."

He furrowed his brows, detecting the faint trace of hope in her voice and feeling his heart take up on the speed. "Well... I was just about to. In the room. I bought a phone..." He lifted the sack in his hand. "...and was about to dial your number."

"Really?" she asked, slightly startled and happy at the same time. She brushed some of her hair behind the ear. "Didn't you have the phone?"

"I left it at home." It was the quickest lie he could conceive. He playfully rolled his eyes, indicating the slight amusement at his alleged absentmindedness. "Just heading back from the shop."

She laughed at that. "Right." Suddenly, her cheeks were covered in a light scarlet, and she dropped her gaze at her feet for three seconds, as if she was about to share something very, very secretive with him. Then she was eyeing him again. "Listen... I've just ended a shift. Maybe you would like to go somewhere? I promised I'll show you around the most interesting spots. Are you up to that?"

Draco contemplated, taking in a small breath. Some part of him really lingered to give it a shot and go out with her, seeing where it carries them, as spontaneous as it was. It wasn't a date, and she was practically a stranger, but... what kind of a stranger! A quiet voice in his head told him this was what kept him away from the idea; disclosing his doubts -- her sparkling with joy eyes and the effect she had on him. A mere fact of him pondering the question was pure evidence it mattered to him, and he definitely tried to kick in with a good impression.

That left him with no more answer than: "Yeah, sure."

For some reason, Y/N let out a sigh of relief and relaxed a little, looking as if she was about to hear bad news but heard the contrary instead. "Great!" she exclaimed cheerfully. A little too cheerfully, she realized, as soon as she spoke up because the embarrassment welled up on her face. Yet another blush brushed her cheeks, and she chuckled at herself. "Sorry. Bad habits from the reception."

Now it was his turn to chuckle. He liked it, actually, but obviously wasn't going to say that out loud. "Don't mind," he assured her. "Shall we--"

"Before we do," Y/N cut him in, already guessing the upcoming rest of the sentence. "I suggest you leave that stuff..." She pointed her finger at the bag he was carrying. "...in the room. We might be wandering some hours in the heat. So it might not be the best idea."

Draco nodded, silently agreeing with her pertinent advice. "I'll meet you downstairs in... five minutes, then."

She shifted a little, still grinning like a maniac and watching him with sparkling eyes. "Okay," she said, as Draco was making to walk past her, feeling the strangest hint of excitement creeping in his chest. As he was nearing the doorway, he heard her shouting behind his back, "I'll be waiting here!" And the tiniest of his rare smiles formed on his lips.

XOXOXOXO

"So tell me something about yourself, Draco." Y/N looked at him, a light of interest entering her eyes.

As decided, they had met up a few minutes later in front of the entrance to the hotel and then took on the route. Draco had asked her about any potential propositions of where there should go, to which Y/N only smiled mysteriously and said it was a surprise.

So now they were walking hand-in-hand, taking almost the same pace as they strolled in the rhythm of the roads. The buzz still could be heard, and people prattling loudly, but this time -- as Draco noted -- instead of crowding in the center of the noise, Y/N led him through some stealthy alleys only a real dweller could know about. There were still laughs and talks coming, but much quieter.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, not quite comprehending how he should answer her question. He had been in some relationships, some successful and some not, but no one had really paid much interest in him. Not really him.

"Uh, you know. Where do you hail from, what are your hobbies, why did you come to France? Whatever you want, actually." Y/N chortled, offering him a small smile of encouragement. The sun rays were smoothly emphasizing her beauty; skin glistening under the daily light. Draco couldn't help himself but think of how her hands would feel on his shoulders and--

'Focus Draco,' he scolded himself for drifting far, far away with his imagination.

"Well," he started. "I'm from England, what you can guess by my accent. I play piano, learned Italian and Spanish, and...you know, basic stuff." He omitted the part he was a captain of his Quidditch team at school for almost five years which was his biggest pride. "My mother forced me to come here."

"Oh," Y/N seemed to be a little surprised by his confession because she made a fish-like face. "Didn't you want to come?"

"Not quite," Draco admitted truthfully. Before she was able to ask him for a reason for that, he outstripped her. "Had a tough time lately. My friend...died."

Y/N stared at him, mouth slightly agape, and in an instant, her expression turned from cheerful to a regretful one. "I'm sorry," she said, massive uncomfortableness visible on her face.

He shrugged, making his faultless poker face to the game as if it didn't affect him at all -- blank and uncaring. But it hit him. Always did. He didn't like to talk about his post-war experience; even recalling it in his mind was torture.

'If she only knew,' Draco thought. 'She wouldn't be so eager to get acquainted.'

Before he could pay off with as much interest as she did to him, Y/N was gesturing excitedly to the name on the corner of the building, located right next to the extensive, artificial beach with impeccably clean water. There were quite a few people enjoying themselves and sitting on the warm sand, but not throng as Draco could expect from a place like that. "Here we are!"

Not only the sand, but a minibar was there as well: a small deckhouse in the midway of the shore and pavement; a few wooden stools; and the bartender who was shaking a cocktail mixer in his hands.

Shortly after, however, the man behind the counter noticed them approaching. He shot Draco a brief look, and then his gaze landed straight at Y/N, who also perceived him glancing at her. He seemed to be happy at the sight of her, and his eyes swept momentarily over her figure, perhaps identifying if it really was a person he thought it was, and then he gestured for her to come closer. Y/N seized Draco's forearm, tugging him to come along with her, and Draco, left without any other choices, followed.

Y/N began speaking something French with him, and he heatedly answered her back in a sort of enthusiastic voice. Apparently, they must have known each other because, after seconds, they started joking around, laughing, and patting each others' shoulders like old friends. It took quite a moment, but the bartender eventually focused his attention on Draco, who was standing next to Y/N and was trying to make any sense out of the conservation. The man asked something, curiously arching his brow yet again at Y/N, who flushed suddenly. Clearly flustered with his question, she playfully smacked him at the top of his head and turned to face Draco.

"Sorry for that," she said, putting both of her elbows on the countertop and making a slight pout of guiltiness. "It's just an old friend of mine. I used to come here a lot in the past, so we know each other... pretty well, I guess."

That arose Draco's curiosity, and he didn't miss a chance to ask her. "Don't you come here anymore?"

"No." The readiness of this reply surprised him a little bit. She bit her lip and let her eyes drift at her shoes, which -- Draco noticed -- was her typical reaction when she was nervous. "I... I used this place to meet up with my boyfriend. My father didn't approve of our relationship -- he assumed there was something iffy about him and that he had bad intentions." Chuckling dryly, she tried to cover up her emotions, though the sadness was hitched to her voice. "He was right. He used me and then dumped me, saying it meant nothing."

Although he felt an urge to hug her, he held it back and stared at her, not really knowing what to say. Should he console her by telling her the man was a pig and she clearly deserved better? Or should he keep silent, only proving himself to be a good listener? It was very confusing for him to be around girls who cry and complain and expect reassurance in their words. He witnessed Pansy weeping a lot of times, but she was the one to instruct him what to do by throwing herself at him and lingering in the embrace. But Y/N was new to him, and it was no easy way to find out what she wanted him to say.

"Sucks," he uttered under his breath before the awareness kicked in.

What the fuck, you dolt?! Is it how you want to comfort her?

Fortunately, Y/N didn't receive his words as critically as he because her eyes lighted up, and she giggled softly. "Yeah... But I learned from that. I try to be warier now."

The bartender poked her suddenly on the shoulder, making some mumbling and incomprehensible sound. Y/N nodded and slightly tilted her head to have a better view of Draco. "Jean asks if you want a drink. He recommends Brave Bull. Brags that he can do the best one in the country."

"Mhm... Let it be it," he agreed, giving up on his usual liquor and dipping into more muggle-like specials. He attempted to force a smile on the lips, trying to give it more of a tone of a request than a demand.

She reciprocated the gesture, and then she turned to her friend, leaning casually against the bar and expertly translating the conversation. He only nodded, smiling, and grabbed the nearest bottle of some booze to pour the contents into the glass along with some other ingredients.

"Here you go," the bartender, Jean, tried out his amateur English, but remnants of French accent could be heard. He laid two glasses of alcohol -- one fiercely brown; the other one, blue with a cocktail umbrella inside -- on the countertop and grinned. Before Draco could take out some cash to pay, Jean's voice echoed again, still with a little stammering accent. "Free!"

Y/N and Draco made their way to a nearby bench, both calmly sipping their drinks and looking at the horizon as the sun set down, disappearing out of your sight. It was strange for Draco how comfortable he felt in her presence; the comfort he hadn't experienced for years in anyone's company. Although he was aware you had met a few days ago, something in your relationship gave him enough space to be himself. And he liked it.

Draco chanced to glance at Y/N, and she was already looking.

"I like coming here," she started hastily, as to conceal she was staring. "It's calming."

As an excuse to tear their eye contact, Draco scanned the beach again, and he could definitely get her point. The place was nothing but charming. "Agree."

"You know... It was my inspirational area when I drew. I first found it when I got into a huge fight with my father. Since then, I have used it as an escape from the outer world. It was a mistake that I shared it with my ex, but... you seem to be a proper person."

Draco didn't miss the compliment, and a barely visible blush danced on his cheeks. He felt his pulse speeds up, heart pounding at the sudden realization of their proximity. "You drew? Is it past tense?"

"Yes." Y/N nodded swiftly, grunting. "I love to capture the moments I find beauty in: people, places, specific objects. I even aspired to go to art studies. But..." She exhaled deeply, preparing herself to continue. "...they are too costly. My father says so... I don't blame him; I know he tries. But I stopped myself from having hopes."

Draco listened, and the pity churned his stomach. Taking a nip of his drink, an idea popped up in his head. "Do you have those drafts?"

"Right now?" Y/N asked, shocked, to which Draco responded only with a short nod. "Yes, I usually carry them --er-- in my bag. I had to throw them away... but I just couldn't."

"Can I see?"

Surprisingly, for the first time, as Draco saw, reluctance appeared on her face. She deflated, apparently battling with doubts. "Ummm... Yes." And then she slipped her hand into her motley bag, rummaging intensely. After mere seconds, she finally found what she was looking for -- the set of papers bound neatly around by a fine twine and clip, to the additional perseverance.

Y/N passed him, what seemed to be many hours of her solid work, and he examined them closely. What Draco could say is that he wasn't an expert in the field, but he unconditionally believed that those sketches required a lot of talent to draw as precise as they were. He was in awe, really -- the accurate contours given the best preciseness; the attention paid even to the smallest details; gradings made with soft touches of a pencil. The drawings presented a lot: random people walking in a rush, natural landscapes, some sculptures lined up in front of a building, even the least relevant objects like shoes or an apple. That, of course, didn't discourage Draco from watching further -- he flipped the pages, soundlessly, and a little too fascinated to utter a thing.

"And what do you think?" asked Y/N, nervously tapping her fingers on her thigh and (unnecessarily) preparing herself for a flow of criticism. Her gaze darted between Draco's face and the sketches.

"I... think you have a gift," he complimented her, weighing the great truth in his words.

"Really?" Y/N asked him in disbelief, blushing profusely. "Thanks! But --er-- you can take them if you want. It'd be easier for me to know I give them in the good hands than throwing them away."

The 'good hands' comment flattered Draco, and he felt almost honored to accept the offer. "Yes. Thank you." He buried the works deeply in his pocket.

He would definitely make good use of those. He had a plan.

XOXOXO

A/N: Okay, hi everyone! It was supposed to be longer, but I decided to divide it into more chapters with less word count instead. Nothing is happening yet, but you can already feel some tension, right? :D The next chapter is going to be super, super short. So I might be posting it within two days or so??? Idk yet, and it’s not a promise because I have a nice surprise (spoiler! a new one-shot) coming and a few requests to answer, so it might also take a moment. But please, stick with me :D If anyone wants to appear on the tag list, write in comments, DM, or wheresoever!

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mysterioushogwartsrequests · 4 years

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Hey i wanted to ask if you could write a reader x fred fic where they learn about the mirror of erised in class and then the reader has to step in front of it to say what they see and they say smth like "fred could you step aside" or "could you get out of the frame, you are in the way" and it turns out he wasn't even close to being in the mirrors view and so they just announced that their deepest desire is fred, ik it's very specific but please🥺❤

I’ve actually been thinking about writing something like this so I am very glad you sent this in!!! And, honestly, really specific requests are always welcome because I know exactly what you all want! I love any request you send my way :).

Title: The Desired Slip-Up

ϟ ϟ ϟ

Fred and George’s Sixth Year at Hogwarts had already started off with a bang. The announcement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament had everyone in high spirits, and they all waited impatiently for the Winter holiday celebrations. Sure, they were dealing with an unpleasant scammer by the name of Ludo Bagman, but the Twins were certain they would get their way eventually.

Like any other year, Fred continued his usual school-yard scheming with his brother, occasionally stopping to view the petrifying tasks of the Tri-Wizard Tournament where Harry Potter managed to avoid the clutches of an irritated Hungarian Horntail. Despite having excellent marks, the Twins often found themselves bored with the courses at Hogwarts and were often discussing ways to avoid attending them. However, the possibility of their mother finding out about their misbehavior urged Fred and George, despite their grievances, to attend their classes.

Professor Moody currently held the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and often introduced unorthodox items in his teachings. Well, what could really be considered unorthodox at a school for Magic?

On a particularly cold Novembers’ day, Fred sauntered into the classroom, tailed by his brother, and at once caught sight of the ornate mirror at the front of the room. The students were gathered around each other’s desks, exchanging whispers as to what the mirror could do. Waiting for his students to settle, Professor Moody rapped his fingers against his desk, his blue eye ardently scanning the room as two more girls trailed in.

Fred and George took their usual seats at the center, roughly setting down his belongings behind Angelina Johnson, who turned to face the noise with a hint of annoyance.

“Making sure everyone hears you arrive?” She asked teasingly, swinging her legs over the empty space beside her.

“You know us, Angelina-” replied George with a thumbs up

“Always putting on a show” finished Fred, shooting his friend a wink before acknowledging the empty seat, “And (Y/N)?” asked Fred, earning a shrug from Angelina. However, before Fred could ask anything else, Mad-Eye Moody rose from his seat and tapped the edge of the mirror with his wand, effectively silencing the class.

“Now, I’ve prepared a very special lesson for you lot and I expect your undivided attention” Moody declared, his good eye trained on Fred Weasley, who was doodling product designs on a spare bit of parchment. George, noticing Mad-Eye’s intense stare, jabbed Fred’s side and gestured for him to look forward.

Begrudgingly setting his quill down, Fred rested his cheek against his palm as Mad-Eye cleared the first row of desks nearest to the mirror. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in Mad-Eye’s teachings, Fred just found it rather difficult to concentrate when he was plagued by thoughts of (Y/N)’s absence. Although (Y/N) (L/N) was quite the prankster herself, she was not one to miss classes, especially if the Professor was known for dealing out harsh punishments if he caught you.

“I want a nice, clean line facing the mirror” Mad-eye announced, gesturing towards the empty space he had cleared, “This isn’t your ordinary, everyday mirror so don’t let me catch you fixing your hair and makeup in front of it” He warned, eyeing the group of giggling girls lining up beside him. With a sigh, Fred pushed himself off his seat and followed George and Angelina towards the front of the class, gaze trained out the window as he wondered what it would feel like to fly through the cold-wind at this very moment.

Paying no attention to the lesson, Fred narrowed his eyes at the shape whizzing meters from the window. “Is that a person? Flying towards the castle?” he thought, subtly inching towards the glass to get a better glimpse of the robed figure, but they had already vanished. Scratching his head, Fred directed his attention towards Mad-Eye Moody, who was pointing at the calligraphy above the mirror which read:

“Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi” or “I show not your face, but your heart’s desire” as Mad-Eye translated.

“When you look into this mirror,” Mad-Eye began, stepping in front of the line so the students could only see his reflection, “You will see what your heart most desperately desires, but be careful” He added with a wicked grin, his eyes trained on his reflection, “Some of you may go mad if you stare for too long…”

Fred eyed Moody suspiciously, it seemed like he himself was transfixed with what he currently viewed in the mirror, only stepping away after giving his head vigorous shake. Bearing the same wicked smile, Professor Moody gestured towards the mirror, “Any volunteers?” he asked nonchalantly, but the prospect of going mad spooked the usual eagerness to participate out of his students. The Sixth years looked around at each other, trying to see who would be brave enough to face the Mirror of Erised.

At that moment, the door to the classroom slammed open and the sound of running footsteps filled the room. Gasping for air, (Y/N) (L/N) looked up at Professor Moody with disheveled robes and a broomstick gripped in her right hand, her satchel hanging loosely over her shoulder as she set her broom against the wall.

“Professor, I am so sorry. I lost track of time while at the Quidditch Pitch and—” but Professor Moody cut off her rambling excuses with a swift raise of his hand.

“As a result of your tardiness,” Moody growled, his good eye trained on (Y/N) as the other whizzed from her broom and back to her, “And flying around the grounds without permission” he added and (Y/N) bowed her head in shame, setting her satchel down beside Angelina’s before walking towards the front of the classroom.

“You will be the first to demonstrate the effects of the Mirror of Erised,” Moody finished, his eyes glinting with anticipation as he urged her in front of the mirror, “I’ve already explained what the mirror does, but unfortunately, you were late so you will find out on your own” he explained, looking back at the group of students behind him, “And none of you runts will tell her, got it?”As he snapped, a couple of frightened Ravenclaw girls nodded intensely causing Fred to roll his eyes for the third time in the hour.

Feeling increasingly nervous, (Y/N) looked towards Angelina with a sheepish smile, then towards the Weasley Twins. George shot her encouraging thumbs-up, but Fred only grinned at her, urging her forwards while mouthing, “This is your punishment.” She and Fred had not always been great friends, she actually despised him during their second year when a balloon full of ink fell on top of her head, spilling its contents all over her new robes. Despite being increasingly furious that day, (Y/N) found herself laughing at the prank after Professor Flitwick removed the stains of her clothes and Professor McGonagall scolded the Twins in the middle of the Courtyard. After seeing the embarrassed looks on their faces, (Y/N) went up to them and declared the beginning of a prank-war, therefore igniting the first flames of the friendship.

At the end of their second year, (Y/N) was crowned Prank Champion, complete with a parchment crown and colorful ribbon Lee Jordan had prepared for the winner. The summer after that, the Twins invited (Y/N) over to The Burrow where they spent the hot months of July playing Quidditch in a clearing and enjoying Mrs. Weasley’s delightful cooking. It was not until the 1994 Quidditch World Cup that (Y/N) realized her feelings towards Fred were more than friendship. She often recalled the late-night talks they would share in the Astronomy Tower, neglecting the homework they promised they would do that evening. But she really couldn’t help it, Fred was so easy-going that it was no arduous task to get lost in conversation with him. Now, they were in their Sixth year and she had collected an assortment of sweaters gifted to her by Molly Weasley, as well as many joke-shop prototypes from Fred and George.

With the announcement of the Yule Ball, (Y/N) immediately imagined herself in a beautiful gown, circling a ballroom with Fred Weasley at her side. As she stepped up to the mirror, she took a deep breath with her eyes closed, the image of Fred’s infectious smile fresh in her memory as she opened her eyes.

Well, it was not difficult for her to imagine Fred’s wide grin because it was staring right back at her, standing beside her with a singular rose extended towards her. Blinking rapidly, (Y/N) leered at the mirror, stepping towards it with her eyebrows furrowed, frustrated by Fred’s overconfident grin shooting towards her.

As the minutes passed, her annoyance only grew. Not only did she not know what the mirror was supposed to show, but she also had Fred’s playful gaze trained onto her. With a large huff, (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest and moved towards the right, trying to cover Fred’s presence in the mirror.

“Something the matter?” coughed Mad-Eye, whipping the droplets of his drink away from his face and stuffing his flask into his robe pocket, “Tell us what you see.”

Without taking her eyes off the mirror, (Y/N) clicked her tongue in frustration, “I really can’t see anything with Fred in the way,” she admitted, “Can you get out the way? You’ve been grinning at me like a mad man”

Fred registered George’s snort of laughter beside him, his ears flushing red as he replayed (Y/N)’s words in his head, “(Y/N), sweetheart” he spoke up, raising his hand up in the air to show how far back in the line he was, “I’m over here, love. How could I possibly be blocking your view?” teased Fred, stepping out of the line as (Y/N) whipped around to face him.

With her mouth agape, she locked eyes with Fred and realization dawned on her, it was impossible, Fred was too far away, and he was the only one the mirror was reflecting... She should’ve at least seen the rest of the class or even Mad-Eye!

Turning back towards the mirror, (Y/N) noticed Fred’s smiling face again, but also noticed the green dress robes he was wearing and how she was wearing the most magnificent purple gown she had ever laid eyes on, “I don’t understand” (Y/N) uttered out, turning her head towards Mad-Eye, “I- only see Fred and I… going to the Yule Ball together…” she admitted, lowering her voice as she did so.

“Well, Mrs. (L/N),” Moody began, “The Mirror of Erised shows your heart’s most desperate desire and it seems yours is to be Mr. Weasley’s date,” he said matter-of-factly. (Y/N) blushed furiously at his words, her eyes darting towards the real Fred, who bore the same smile as his reflection. She could verbalize the relief that washed over her when the bell, signaling the end of class, rang and immediately taking the opportunity to bolt out of the classroom, leaving her broomstick in her wake. The rest of the students exchanged whispers as Fred and George exited the classroom, making jokes about what they thought they would see in the mirror.

“Would you like some alone time?” asked George mischievously, handing Fred (Y/N)’s forgotten broom, “I’m sure there’s plenty the two of you should talk about” George then waved his brother off and ran down the corridor to join Angelina.

Fred looked down at the broomstick in his hand, his thumb trailing over the initials she had carved into the wood. A small smile appeared on his face as he caught sight of his own initials in her broomstick, the ones he had carved during the summer after (Y/N) lost the bet at the World Cup. With a newfound sense of courage, Fred strode down the corridor in search of (Y/N), determined to find her before she could hide in her common room.

ϟ ϟ ϟ

(Y/N) halted once she reached the Training Grounds, her hands placed over her knees as she took deep breaths, the crisp, frigid air filling her lungs, “Way to go!” she exclaimed angrily, stomping her heel against the ground out of pure embarrassment. Sinking down onto the snow, (Y/N) covered her face with her hands as she racked her brain for any sort of excuse she could give to Fred, but ultimately came up empty.

“You know,” called a familiar voice behind her, “If you wanted to go to the ball with me, all you had to do was ask…” stated Fred, stepping towards her curled up frame. Jumping at Fred’s words, (Y/N) pushed herself off the ground, wiping the snow off her robes before pointing a finger towards her crush. “Listen here, Fred” she stated defensively, “I-I have a perfectly clear explanation for this…” (Y/N) tried to explain, her voice wavering as he stepped closer to her, the scent of his cologne mixing with the chilly air, effectively weakening her resolve.

“I’m all ears, love” He added, a playful smirk playing at his lips as he stuck out her broomstick, “You forgot this on your way out, it’s nice to see my initials are still there” Fred winked, letting his hand rest above hers as she attempted to retrieve her broom.

“W-Well, I did lose the bet after all” muttered (Y/N), the blush returning to her cheeks as their fingers brushed together.

“And I’m sure you’ll lose this one too” added Fred casually and (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at him, “What do you mean by that?” she asked cautiously as he laughed.

“Well, I bet that you want to go to the ball with little old me, but you’re too afraid to ask” Fred stated confidently, smiling at the look of shock on (Y/N)’s face. He was not surprised by her reaction, not at all, it was what he had expected to see, to him, she was so easy to read. Fred understood what it meant when she scrunched up her nose during their late-night study sessions, how her leg would bounce underneath the desk when she was itching to go play Quidditch or the cute frown she bore when something did not go her way. It was not difficult to understand that this expression of shock meant he had been right on the mark.

“Am I wrong?” He asked, his hand snaking around her waist, pulling her closer to his taller frame. Closing her mouth, (Y/N) looked down at their closeness and then up at Fred, “You’re not.” she admitted, swallowing her pride for once in her life.

“Then, allow me,” whispered Fred, stepping back, and pulling out his wand before uttering the word, “Orchideous.” At that moment, a large bouquet of roses popped out of the tip of his wand, which Fred then took and dramatically brought himself down to one knee.

Clearing his throat, he raised the flowers up and said, “(Y/N) (L/N), would you do me the utmost honor of accompanying me, Frederic Weasley, to the Yule Ball?” he asked, his grin growing wider than she ever thought possible.

She would be lying if she said she had not imagined this moment playing out in her head, but never thought about it actually happening. However, there was no denying that the real thing felt better than her usual daydreams...

With her heart beating against her rib cage, (Y/N) delicately wrapped her fingers around the bouquet and brought them up to her nose, the intoxicating smell of roses easing her nerves, “I would be delighted to accompany you to the ball, Mr. Weasley” she replied with a grin, slipping her hand into his extended one as he stood up.

“Brilliant,” He whispered, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “But you know, you did lose a bet…” Fred muttered, his thumb trailing over her cheek as a faint tinge of red appeared over them once again.

“Yes, that is true,” (Y/N) admitted with a nod of the head, “I suppose there is something you want me to do?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” added Fred, stepping closer to her, and placing his other hand on her cheek, “I think the winner deserves something sweet” He stated huskily, his face dipping closer to hers, “Don’t you agree?”

(Y/N) nodded, their proximity sucking the air out of her lungs and her blush darkening as their lips brushed against each other, “I do, why don’t you show me then?” she asked teasingly, a smile appearing on her lips as the smirk on Fred’s face grew.

“Alrighty, then” With that, Fred closed the distance between them, one hand cupping her face as the other pulled her towards him by the waist. This, too, was better than anything Fred could’ve daydreamed, and he wondered why it had taken him so long to finally kiss her. He recalled the many occasions he could have kissed her, but never committed to it, afraid she might turn him down to preserve their friendship. But after the altercation in Mad-Eye Moody’s class, he knew there was nothing left to lose.

Fred Weasley had always loved (Y/N) (L/N), but it took a magic mirror for him to realize that… Not that he was complaining, better late than never.

Pulling away from their first kiss, Fred tapped his finger against his chin, “You know, I don’t think just one was enough” he admitted, sliding his arm behind (Y/N)’s knees and scooping her up into his grip, “Wouldst the fair lady grant me one more?” He asked, wagging his eyebrows at her, making her burst out laughing.

“As many as you want, My Lord,” giggled (Y/N), placing her hands on his cheeks and pulling him in for another passionate kiss.

As the snow began to fall around them, Fred carried (Y/N) out of the training grounds, both bursting with excitement for the upcoming Yule Ball and the new memories they would make together.

#fred weasley #Fred and George #Fred and George Weasley #Fred Weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #yule ball imagine #harry potter imagines #hogwarts mystery imagine #hogwarts fanfic #hogwarts imagine #Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

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