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marauroon · 20 hours

Note

congrats on another new blog for a new fandom 🤭

as a blog-warming request, can we add another fic to the best friend James with no boundaries pile???

HYPOTHERMIC - J.POTTER

you are the only feasible solution that james can think of to warm up his frozen extremities

WARNINGS: james and reader have an unconventional friendship, james and sirius being brothers as per, swearing, typical teenage antics

james potter x fem!reader || fluff || 1.8k || requests open!!

a/n: another new blog has spawned for another fandom (the marauders are encapsulating all of my thoughts rn)🤭 thanks for the ‘blog-warming’ request ml 🫶🫶

It’s a crime James thinks, to have snow in April. It never snows in April back down in England, hell they’re not likely to have snow at all.

But apparently living up north in Scotland spelled different news.

It was even more of a crime that he had to go out in the snow. Quidditch was great, but no one should have to be flying in -2° weather.

It was April, it was snowing, and James was cold.

By the time the team hit the showers he swore his fingers were going to fall off from hypothermia, a sentiment shared by most of his teammates as they spent a collective ten extra minutes under the hot water.

The trudge back to the Gryffindor common room was almost as treacherous as the training itself, the stone walls of the castle doing absolutely nothing to block the chill that ran through it’s corridors.

Sirius swears to him that he sees some of the paintings shaking, and honestly he can’t blame them, he’s practically shivering himself and he had a long-sleeved t-shirt and a jumper on.

He has one singular plan. Sit in front of the fire and stay there until he was sure that all of his organs had defrosted, even if that meant missing dinner. That was a lie, he would definitely leave the embering comfort of the fireplace for dinner.

Now he was thinking about it, he was starving. Maybe he could convince Sirius or Peter to go down to the kitchens early with him to sneak something back up.

There’s an almost unanimous sigh of relief as the team walk through the fat lady’s portrait, like their muscles relax just from seeing the familiar red and gold decor and decide to just give up right then and there.

It’s a sight to be seen for sure, a majority of the student’s who’d taken up the lounge sofas and chairs for the afternoon looking on at the group with raised eyebrows and small muttered chuckles at their collective state.

“Have fun then?” There’s a decided smirk on Remus’ face as James and Sirius drag themselves over to the nook that you and him had curled yourselves into over the last few hours, and the two boys share a glance before turning it in your paired direction with a dissatisfied glare of jealousy.

You could not look comfier if you tried, tucked in either corner of one of the long sofas right next to the fire with blankets over your laps and flushed cheeks from the warmth of the room.

James is the one to give up on his seething anger first, practically collapsing himself onto the unoccupied space between you and Remus and flopping over until he’s got his face firmly planted across your knees, a loud defeated groan rumbling from his throat and vibrating through the blanket to meet your skin.

“I’ll take that as a no—” You can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your mouth at the display, unperturbed by the side eye you gain as James adjusts himself so that he can lie on you without suffocating himself or crushing his glasses.

“I swear my organs were freezing over out there,”

“That’s a little dramatic,” Remus shakes his head from behind the book propped up against his knees, amused smirk still lining his features.

“It is not dramatic Moony, we were getting hypothermic out there, seriously,” Sirius gives a tug to James’ legs so that he can sit down with his head over the back of the cushion, and it leaves James sat on the floor as a result.

“Oi, first come first served—” James tugs one of the decorative pillows you have tucked under your arm from you so that he can throw it at Sirius’ head, and it is promptly returned by Sirius with a middle finger and a triumphant look to go with it.

James lets out a sharp scoff of indignation as he rears the pillow for another throw, but its plucked from his, stiff, frozen hands before he has the chance to.

“That’s enough both of you, we were trying to have a calm afternoon here,” You scold the two with no real malice as you tuck the pillow back into it’s spot underneath your arm, and James sighs heavily as he slings his arms over your legs to rest his chin on top of them.

“It’s not my fault Sirius doesn’t understand sofa etiquette,”

“You were hogging the whole thing,” Sirius scrunches up his face in exasperation, gesturing outwards widely with his hand and almost knocking the book right out of Remus’ lap. “Sorry-”

Remus sighs, and the two of you share a glance and a silent shake of your heads.

You loved the boys to death, but my god did they not know the concept of sitting still for more than five minutes.

That point was only further proven as James gets up from the floor to wedge himself between you and Sirius, giving his leg a deft kick in the process for payback as he tried to worm himself in between your side and the back of the sofa.

“James—” The movement laves you lost for balance, and you almost tumble right off the edge of the sofa as he invades your spot, one of your legs falling from the seat to brace against the floor.

“What? I’m cold, and you’re right next to the fire,” His invasion continues as he tugs the blanket you have draped over you towards himself until it’s covering his lower body entirely and leaving you half-uncovered.

“You can’t just kick me out of my spot—” You huff, more than a little miffed at being forcibly removed from the position you’d spent almost ten minutes perfectly arranging to make you as comfortable as possible for the afternoon.

“I’m not, I’m not,” There’s a strong grasp around your torso, and then you’re being tugged backwards until your half situated on top of him with your back to his chest. “I’m sharing your spot,” His words are emphasised by his chin landing against your shoulder and his arms encircling your waist like you’re a soft toy a child would take to bed.

It wouldn’t be too bad of a position if you couldn’t literally feel how cold James was through your clothes, like a human ice pack attached to your back.

“You’re freezing James—”

“I know,” He takes your words as an affirmation to bury his face against your shoulder, curling up his legs under the blanket and in turn forcing you to do the same. “I’m warming myself up,”

“The fire’s over there mate,” Remus and Sirius share an incredulous look at the two of you. “She’s not a heating pad,”

You have half the mind to agree with them, and James can feel the way you nod at the observation, responding with a dissatisfied grumble and his hands pulling up the hem of the jumper you’re wearing to warm his icy extremities against your skin.

“James—” The temperature makes you physically jolt, your back shooting up straight and forcing his head from it’s position against your shoulder.

“What?” He tugs you back against his chest with false innocence dripping from his vocal chords, his hands using your stomach as his own hot water bottle. “You’ll get used it it, it’ll be fine,”

“It is not fine, your hands are practically ice,”

“I was playing Quidditch in the snow,” He wastes no time in reclaiming his place with his head hidden against the crook of your neck. “Of course they are,”

“Ugh, you two make me sick,” Sirius puts his index finger inside his mouth in a mock gagging motion as he shifts to stuff his feet underneath Remus’ thighs in his own attempt at warming up.

“Sounds like jealousy to me,” James shrugs, and it jostles you slightly in his arms. “You don’t have to project Pads, we all know you’re sad because Moony won’t give you a cuddle,”

“That is not true,” Sirius huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, though his gaze turns to Remus nonetheless, and he is immediately met with a shake of Remus’ head. “Whatever,” He scoffs, raking a hand through his curls with an almost unnoticeable pout on his face. “Just get a room already will you? You’re disturbing everyone with your PDA,”

“Why don’t you just shut your mouth already?” James tilts his head with an annoyingly cocky smile, lifting his face just far enough off your shoulder so Sirius can get a good look at his expression. “I can smell your breath from over here,”

“You little—” Sirius rips one of the decorative pillows from underneath Remus to launch it at James’ head, but considering your position as a literal human shield it misses him completely, hitting you square in the face.

“Hey—” Your arms aren’t raised quick enough to block his assault, but they do return fire the minute the pillow is in your vicinity.

“Sorry sorry,” Sirius is more successful than you at blocking the projectiles pillow, laughing in the process. “Collateral damage, it’s what you get for pairing up with him,” Sirius scrunches up his nose in exaggerated disgust, and James responds by sticking one of his hands out of the blanket to flip him off.

You take the opportunity of James’ loosened grip to slip out of his arms and onto your feet, and his pettiness towards Sirius immediately turns into betrayal towards you. “Where are you going?”

“Somewhere actually quiet?” You roll your eyes at him in feigned indignation, a small chuckle bubbling in your throat. “I love you guys but you are ruining my cozy afternoon,”

“No no I’m sorry I won’t fight with Pads anymore don’t leave,” He reaches his arm out to grasp at your wrist, giving it a small tug. “Stay c’mon, please?”

You raise your eyebrow at him, clearly not believing a single word coming out of the boy’s mouth.

“I promise,” He extends his hand out with his pinky finger raised.

You give him a narrowed gaze, but upon a prompting of his hand as he waved it in your direction you linked your finger with his, and he used it as leverage to pull you right back into his grasp.

“See? It’s very cozy,” James ignores the way Sirius rolls his eyes as he shifts you around in his lap until you’re both comfortable.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

#james potter x reader #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction #james potter #james potter fluff #harry potter fanfiction #asks 🪶

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lushaletta · 2 days

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the dark lord and his distraction / tom riddle

pairing: fem!reader x tom riddle

content: muggleborn!reader, swearing

summary: you distract tom from his plans. and he hates it.

a/n: this is my pt. 2 to the lamb and her wolf! idk if i like this but i kinda do but Arghh idk. there will prob be a part 3. love u guys!

read part one here!

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

“Hello!” you chirp, skipping over, books in hand.

Tom’s not looking for company. In fact, he was actively avoiding it. He couldn’t continue to be distracted by you. He had work to be done, meetings to be held. But he’s a weak man recently. “Hello.”

You set your things down and lace your arms around his neck suddenly. He’s absolutely horrified. “Thank you for your help studying, Tommy, I’ve passed my exam with full marks!”

He clears his throat and you leave a patch of goosebumps in your wake. “You’re welcome,” he drawls. “You wouldn’t have to spend so much extra time revising if you’d only paid attention in class.”

Tom knows you’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. You’d be a mistake. It’s obvious what he should do. He should send you off on your merry way and end whatever friendship has blossomed between you, so you at least have a chance at living. For someone so obsessed with immortality, Tom knew he was a dead man the moment you strut into his life, all smiles and Mary Jane’s. But he’s selfish, and so you were dead right with him, that very minute.

He doesn’t like anything you bring. He doesn’t like the reactions you elicit from calling him Tommy and he doesn’t like how you make him happy. Or hopeful. There is no hope for him. He’s destined to live a half-life and he doesn’t like that he wants to make you live that life too.

And you’re not entirely stupid. You know there’s something strange about him and that’s exactly why you come every day with your books and snacks. You’re curious. He’s haunting— a concoction of allure and fear and it’s all but enticing. “Well, who wants to do that? You’re a far better teacher.”

His face casts the ghost of a smile. “Don’t you have chess club in 15 minutes?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there,” you say, easily. Then the realisation dawns on you: You’ve never given him your schedule. “Wait a second,” you laugh. “How do you know that?”

He holds an even tone. “Not hard to guess.”

You blink. Change the topic. “You’re very pretty, you know?”

His knees almost give out and he’s seated comfortably on a chair. “Thank you,” he whispers, trying hard not to sound surprised. He’s not unaware of his good looks, but how anyone could be so casual about it is beyond him.

You’re an aberration, he thinks. No, he’s sure. You write notes in the margins of his textbooks and fall asleep on his shoulder. And when you do so, you let out the cutest little snores and purr. Like a fucking kitten. It drives him to insanity and even deeper into his spiral.

“No, like, you are super pretty. It’s kind of otherworldly.”

He’s not too sure what to say. He’s never rendered speechless by anyone, but fuck, you’re his exception to just about everything. Instead, he stiffens and breathes out a small, “That’s kind.”

Your cheeks dimple and Tom swears he sees his future. But that’s crazy. He has to remember who you are and hell, who he is. He’s the Dark Lord, evil, no matter how you see him in that pretty head of yours. And you’re a filthy Mudblood.

It’s been two days and he hasn’t seen you anywhere. He’s starting to think there *is* no cure to his hysteria because he acts crazy in both your presence and absence. He thinks about you too much in both. He’s looked everywhere; in all your classes and even your dorm that he’s managed to find.

He’s about giving up. There is no point because you’re meant to be temporary.

“Hi,” you say, breathlessly as you appear behind him, startling him into oblivion. He’s a skilled Legilimens so he should’ve heard your thoughts as you creeped up, but he was too busy with his own about you.

He conceals his relief and narrows his eyes. “You have been gone.”

You look a little disheveled but beautiful as ever. Tom doesn’t sweat, but it feels like he’s going to. “Family stuff. You know how it goes!”

Tom doesn’t know how it goes. He’s used to abandonment and lonely holidays. He doesn’t know how it goes but he knows how it feels to dread the Christmases and Easters and summers because all he can look forward to is disappointment.

He winces. You notice and cringe. You don’t know much about his family but judging by that reaction, it’s no good. “Mm,” he manages. It’s silence for a bit. Comfortable silence. He’s secretly relishing in your company. “I didn’t like it when you were gone.”

What a fucking tool.

The corners of your lips curl into a soft grin. “You are adorable!” you giggle. He’s mortified.

You haven’t really told any of your friends about your blooming acquaintanceship with Tom Riddle. After all, he’s not really known for his friendliness. But you trust Camilla. And you’ve used up the last of your excuses for bailing on meals to study with him.

“Riddle. Are you joking me?”

Your eyebrows quirk up. “No. He’s a breath of fresh air from the Hogwarts hustle. Not much of a talker though. I do most of that.”

She smiles a little like it’s expected of you but it fades once she refocuses. “He doesn’t like us Muggleborns, you know.”

“That’s silly.”

“Only true. I heard Mulciber whispering about it. Like, they really don’t like us. No wonder he’s such a git towards me in class.”

“Have you ever actually spoken to Tom, though?” You fold your arms over your chest. You’re not too sure why you’re being defensive.

“Well, no—“

“That’s what I thought! You don’t give people chances, Camilla. You rely on gossip to fuel your opinions,” you spit.

Camilla puts her hands up in surrender and starts talking about the cute Ravenclaw boy she’s planning to ask out.

“Oh! And I think Murphy fancies you! He asked me to ask you how you felt about him.”

You thought about him for a moment. He’s nothing special but he’s attractive and you’re honestly willing to give it a shot.

Tom is fuming, hearing what you think. Listening from around the corner and it’s creepy and borderline stalker-ish but he’s begun to feel a strange protectiveness over you. Frenzy and all that.

So, yes. You’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. But… you were a desire. A selfish, greedy desire.

And Tom always gets what he wants.

taglist for this series! @helalokithor @mli345 (can’t find ur blog so sorry!!) lmk if u want to be added!

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #tom riddle blurb #tom riddle x reader fluff #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fanfiction #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle drabble #tom riddle angst

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saltwaterburns · 15 hours

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I walked with you once upon a dream

warnings: astronomically large usage of the word "laugh", "whine" and "blush". not proofread ?? kinda ?? found this in my notes #fuckitweball

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

a/n: Part 2? 😊

The night had been unforgiving on you. You tossed and turned under your blanket, the wooly cover being too thick at one point and too thin at another. Every time you closed your eyes, they rolled back uncomfortably and as soon as you somehow managed to get somewhat comfortable, a song your friend had been singing the day began to play on loop in your mind, haunting you.

Finally, you somehow managed to succumb into a half awake half asleep state, but it seemed like Merlin wasn't done with you just yet.

Your mind was plagued by at least three different dreams, each one stranger than the last. War, pregnancy, the muggle movie Avatar all made a fashionable appearance, and thats why currently you're sat at the Hufflepuff table, your hair nearly not neat enough as you'd like it to be, your eyelids swollen and heavy, your under eyes tinted purple.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Cedric chirps happily as he slides into the seat next to you, his plate filled with his usual breakfast: toast and some grapes. Usually, you'd greet him right back, giving him a tight hug before discussing over both of your classes for the day, whining over the homework.

Today isn't an usual day, though. You manage to give him a small smile, weak enough to be called a grimace, even. His face is instantly taken over by a frown, his hand placed upon your forehead.

"Are you well, love? Did you manage to catch a bug of sorts?" He says, his worried expression reminding you of a mother hen. You can't help but let out a soft laugh at the thought, his worry replaced by an eye roll.

"Laughin' at me, are you now? Pffft, and to think I was worried," he huffs like a first year, offering you a glare. You've always been exceptionally good at reading people's eyes, though, so you see through his act instantly, the playful glint giving it away.

"No, mother hen Cedric. I'm fine, I just kept tossing and turning alllllll night," you giggle, the lovely sound turning into a groan halfway through. You cover your face with your hands, rubbing slow circles over your eyelids, the colourful shapes of all sizes giving you little relief.

Cedric starts going off about how you need to sleep earlier, get those very much needed 8 hours but you tune him out (like always), looking around the Great Hall instead. Most people are groggy while eating their breakfast, leaning their heads on their friends' shoulders, lids half shut.

Your eyes unconsciously drift over to the Slytherin table, curiously taking a peek at their expressions. People are wary of them, everyone knows that. Their mean faces and cold eyes leave little to the imagination, making most people grasp their wands tighter whenever walking past them.

You know better. You see better. You see their faces; their eyes bright and shining, their mouth's pulled into smiles despite the early morning hours, laughter echoing from all around the long table. It brings a smile to your face. You've always been fond of them, to everyone's surprise. You've managed to make quite a few surprising friends, too. Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theodore.

Theodore Nott. You say his name with a dreamy sigh even in your thoughts. He's sole reason your heart skips a few beats whenever you're looking over at their table, the sole reason you check your lipstick and mascara before hanging out with them, the sole reason you've bought a new, ridiculously overpriced perfume to spray on whenever you know he'll be near.

Most would call this a silly little crush, but you swear on Merlin's beard you're in love. You're completely infatuated with that dark haired boy. He's fascinating, only speaking a few words every so often to express his opinion. He's not shy, by all means. You're smart enough to realise that. He observes, not interrupting unless necessary. You're pretty sure you've seen him smile only once. That was the day you learned the Italian boy had dimples. You haven't stopped thinking about them since.

You like to think that the rare sight called Theo Nott's smile was most of the time, directed at you. The first time you caught a glimpse of one you were walking by the shore of the Black Lake alongside him, the sun setting in the distance, casting gorgeous golden hues all over the place. You rambled on about your day, this particular one having been extremely exhausting, more so than usual.

You're not really sure what made him crack one of those precious smiles, but you suppose it was a joke about your misery. Seeing him like this, it made your heart skip a few beats. The rest of the walk continued in silence, but you wouldn't have had it any other way. You wouldn't have been able to stop yourself from declaring all of your bottled up feelings to him.

Most of your walks happened in comfortable silence, but you preferred that. You liked how with him, you could just, be. Exist, without a need for a meaning. After a long day, you didn't have to force a smile to your face. You could just appear in the Slytherin common room and ask for him to come and walk. He'd always come with you, without a single utter of complaint. You'd walk with him, ask for a few puffs from his cigarette, complaining when he'd shake his head, telling you how the sunshine girl of Hogwarts could in no way be caught smoking with Theodore Nott.

Youre shaken out of your daydreams as your eyes land on a pair of grey ones. Your cheeks heat up instinctively and you pray to Helga up there that he can't see it from that far across the room. You offer him a warm smile and your heart skips a beat (or two) as you see him biting his cheek to hold back a one of his own.

A little smirk still comes through and it makes you grip the table from giddiness, butterflies swarming all around the inside of your stomach. You smile even brighter and somehow manage to tear your gaze away, trying to focus on Cedric's rambling.

".....You're not listening, are you?" He deadpans, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. You don't say anything, just offer him a sweet smile and press a kiss to his cheek before standing up and making your way back to your dorms to grab your books for the day.

First class of the day is divination. You don't think there's ever been a class that makes your eyelids heavier than that. Maybe you'll get to catch up on some of the lost sleep?

The bells rings, indicating the start of the first class. Students scurry off into different classrooms, but you're still quite far from yours.

"Shit, fuck fuck fuck," you curse softly, quickening your step. You grip your books closely against your chest and make a run for it, the sound of your shoes hitting the marble floor echoing across the massive hallway.

You burst through the trapdoor, panting softly from having to climb the ladder with your books in your hands, cutting off professor Trelawney in the middle of explaining today's lesson. She sighs and shakes her head, making you smile sheepishly at her. Hushed apologies spill from your mouth as you make your way to your usual seat in the back of the classroom but you're caught off guard as its taken already. Well, almost taken.

One of the seats seems to be unoccupied, but the other is supporting a very, very good looking Slytherin.

"Theo," you breathe out in surprise, cheeks flushing. You look at the free chair, then back at him. "Is it, is it okay if I sit here? I'm usually alone back here. Didn't expect for you to make an appearance."

He nods curtly and you thank him with a little smile, dropping your books on the desk. You sit down and try to tune yourself into Trelawney's teaching, but the heat radiating from Theo and his addictive scent are clouding your senses.

"Now, for the practical part. You are to be paired up with the person next to you. Tell each other about the dream you had tonight and search for the meaning in your books. You've got half an hour for the task."

That certainly snapped you out of your thoughts. You hear a cough next to you and you turn to face him, rolling your eyes playfully as he motions for you to start.

"Well, I don't even know where to start. I could not fall asleep, no matter what i did. When i finally managed to pass out after 5 hours of tossing and turning, i had this weird dream about snakes wanting to kill me." You start, grimacing as you begin to remember. You grab a quill and write a few keywords to the parchment in front of you.

You look back up at him to ask about his dreams but instead, you find Theodore Nott quietly chuckling to himself.

"Stop laughing, you bloke! I've had weird dreams ever since i was a kid!" You try and defend yourself, opening your book to try make sense of at least some aspect of the psychedelic visions. "What about you, though? What did you see?"

He hums in though, chewing on his inner cheek. "I saw me and you on a date at Hogsmeade."

That definitely catches you off guard. "....you what? Actually?

"Yes, actually," he chuckles, shaking his head, looking up at you. "I'm not making this up, i swear!" He adds, raising his hands in defence.

You cant help but laugh, writing that down as well.

"...we could make it a reality. If you're up tor it?" You murmur softly after a few seconds, pretty sure you're on the verge of passing out at any second. You keep your gaze down, not daring to look up. Not wanting to see his grey eyes sparkle with amusement for suggesting something so silly.

"Sure. Three Broomsticks, Saturday, eleven o'clock?" He inquires, and you barely have time to nod in agreement before the bell rings yet again. He leans closer and presses a kiss to your cheek, his signature lazy smirk painted onto his face before he mutters a simple goodbye, literally disappearing into thin air.

You sit still for a good few minutes as the classroom empties out, your hand hovering over the spot that his lips touched, a faint smile adoring your face. Holy fuck.

#theodore nott #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theo nott fic #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #theo nott drabble

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delicrieux · 3 days

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𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 7. year one: up to mid october, 1972

pairing for this chapter—f!lestrange!reader x sirius black warnings for this chapter—sum swear & sirius being a prat word count—2.5k

a short awaited confrontation and a new friend.

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | ttp masterlist | < back | next >

over the course of the month, it seems that the sight of you has become repulsive to sirius. he could not bear to look at you for more than it took to notice you in the crowd or to recognize your voice echoing before the body belonging to it reached him. he’d flee, usually, and refrain, in a completely un-sirius fashion, from making a gigantic scene. this would have been odd to you if only the pain of seeing his hastily retreating back wasn’t too much.

don’t be so harsh with me please, you’d want to tell him, i’ve done nothing but love you.

instead, “what. is. with. you,” and each word punctuated with an angry smack to his forearm. he glares, and he wiggles out the way of your unrelenting pursuit to beat him into submission. his friends watch frozen, stuck somewhere between amusement and desire to pull sirius back into the safe confines of the gryffindor tower. you will not allow them. not this time, at least, “you stuck up, insufferable—“

“piss off,” he nurses his bruises, though you aren’t strong enough to leave any.

you falter in your step, but the anger doesn’t die. he must know how his look wounds. he must. “piss off?” you parrot, and it rings much smaller and fainter than his had, “piss off? that’s all i get from you?”

“expect something different?” he bites, and bites, and bites, and he maims and mars until there is a thread between your hands and his heart thin as ivory wire. his eyes appraise and they dance and they hate, “why don’t you run back to your regulus.”

ah. there it is. the venom.

“sirius-“ james starts, and both of your glares cut him into two.

“shut up,” the both of you, again, together. you mirror his dark look and try to decide which words of the infinite welling quickly are most fitting. they sink with and through you; an anger and a hurt not meant to be felt by someone so inexperienced. when you and sirius argue, it is never as dire, even if it feels like it was. sirius never starts rows he cannot win, even if it’s him that loses most in the end, “family matter.”

james looks as though he’d rather be anywhere else but in the windy courtyard, shadowed by the cold arches of a loggia. peter, cheeks and ears burning, nervously rubs his hands together to dispel the cold. remus, already, is further ways down and watching, waiting for the rest to catch up. you won’t let them, not yet, not till you say your piece and abandon first, because father said the last word is always the winner.

you speak in french because you know he hates to hear it, because it reminds of home and you know he can’t stand home like he can’t stand you now, and it will hurt him, and it will make you happy, “regulus was right about you. you’ve become unthinkably cruel.”

he curls his lip, and it is with so much spite that it makes your teeth ache. his body rolls into itself, ready to explode and spit up his scorn all over your face. the insult must teeter on his tongue. you're more than ready for it. but something cracks and something flips and he reels back a bit, a show of restraint you thought him absent of.

"yeah, regulus, regulus always knows best, doesn't he?" your french mimicked in his mouth is dense, like syrup, "regulus, darling, regulus," a sneer that draws his lip to the high planes of his cheekbones, and a head tilting movement that is patronizing and obscene. it reminds you of his mother, "your regulus, isn't he the fucking best."

"he's not mine," you state tartly.

"hard to believe when he follows after you like a dog," he bites, and bites, and bites, but even through the layers upon layers, the soreness permeates and leaves you stricken into a stupor that only sirius can create, "listens and does everything you say. can't he think for himself. attached to your shoulder like some blithering pest."

you blink back the anger in your eyes. you are not going to cry, you tell yourself. if you do, then he will win, but he always does.

the boys stare at you. you don't know what to say. the feeling of it is tight and burns like an ulcer, "what has gotten into you? why do you hate me? i haven't-" your lips work through their turmoil, "-i haven't done anything to you."

he waves you off, dismissive. his hands tremble with some unspoken rage. "stop bothering me and go back to regulus. he's probably already looking for you."

the end of the conversation hangs heavily between you. sirius sniffs, and turns away in that blasé manner he always has with him, as if all life were a joke. his posture is too stiff and his features are too cold and he joins remus first as james and peter linger. you shake.

"i, uhm," james begins, but your glare silences him again. slowly, carefully, he nudges peter, "c'mon."

they leave, but james looks back. you miss it, head hung in defeat. your emotions threaten to burst free and splinter all over the stone. you think, in a hurry, how could you ever cover them up – with your hands, your body? is it the aftermath already, where everything is too obvious for pretence?

when it rains, it pours. it always has and you suspect it always will.

naturally, you are inconsolable. what a great big joke. no broom closet nor dusty cavern of the castle is familiar enough to hide in, and you cloak, despite its expanse, can hardly protect from sore eyes. the loo it is, locked in some stall and hiccupping. marzipan had mentioned finding a hufflepuff crying not a week in. she thought it amusing, and you did, too – who could ever abate decency and sob in the loo? what a terrible ploy for attention, had the girl expected consolation? no such could ever be found in marzipan, why, she said, and she said it proudly, she laughed quite loud and the crying stopped.

you would die on the spot if someone found you. it would feel like uncovering a horrible secret, being exposed in such a way. aren’t you a grown up? your birthday is soon, on a cold october night. grownups always breathe fine – besides your ditzy aunts – but you find there not being enough air. so much space and so little of it.

you fan yourself, and you heave, and in a tantrum you tussle out your cloak and throw it onto the gleaming white tiles. your cheeks burn and there’s an ache in the apex of your head. crying like this, over a boy, no less? sirius, of all? rabastan would point and laugh, point and laugh, point and laugh.

there’s a knock on your stall’s door and you nearly topple over in a scurry to silence yourself.

“hi, sorry,” the voice is unfamiliar, but it sounds kind, “are you alright?”

perfect, not only have you embarrassed yourself, you’ve aroused the suspicion of an idiot. there’s a gentle creak on the wood, as if a weight has settled. an ear, perhaps, pressed onto the surface, but for what?

you will your shaky hands to settle by your stomach. the fingers pinch and pool on the woollen fabric of your sweater. you gulp, but it gets stuck, and the silence stretches, so still.

“i-yes,” you manage. this won’t do, the tears cling to your mouth, “i’m, i'm okay.”

“do you need some water?”

if you weren’t so distraught, you’d delight at the curtsy. stupidity must be contagious because you shake your head.

“no, no,” you say after a pause.

“a tissue perhaps?”

“i'm fine,” seems you have managed to locate your wits. from some hellish depths, no doubt. swiftly, you retrieve your cloak, “thank you.”

“’s no worries,” the voice pipes. it belongs to a girl, you think, who doesn't budge, and, instead, waits. it seems your dramatics have riled someone. even the staff would scold your sorry condition, all snot and tears and shaking limbs – quite undignified, "can you tell me why you're crying?"

oh, merlin, how wonderful, the prodding and the poking and the horrible sympathy. are you so pitiable? perhaps. in this state. it's still hard to believe a complete stranger has found themselves so comfortable, "if i say i'm not crying will you go?"

the girl laughs, light and tittering. for a moment, it startles you, too, "not very likely."

the air remains stagnant, as if it's thick and spinning. the echoes of your sniffles bounce along the walls. you could tell her to piss off. you've heard it enough in the span of the last hour.

"i had a fight with my friend," you say eventually, "i think he hates me."

"did you do something to make him hate you?"

your forehead grazes the stall door. it leaves a cold spot and it makes you wince, "no."

"hmm," there is a sound of shuffling and more creaking, "well, then i wouldn't be very worried. he sounds like a dick, and what you need friends like that for?"

a great deal, actually. what did you think you were doing these years, clinging to his arm and curling into his bed when it rains? "what am i supposed to do?"

"beat him up, i imagine, and sort his sorry arse out."

you snort, though not very amused, "tried that."

"good start," you imagine her nodding and crossing her arms, "now, if i were you, i'd hex him into tomorrow and we'll never hear from him again."

"sounds wicked," you lament. the thought has crossed your mind, but revenge crumbles into some mushy, pitiful mess if you think on it too long.

"positively evil," she agrees. the silence returns, but it's comfortable, "i’ve got parchment in case you wanna practice curses."

a corner of your mouth quirks. your chest aches, but it's no longer full and painful, "that's alright, thank you."

"always wanted to be an accomplice," you hear the smile in her voice, "no trouble at all."

a final stretch of quiet. it allows you to breathe, really breathe, and pull yourself into order, as it were. it's no pretty sight, the state of you, but it no longer compares to how you first came in, a crying mess. when you open the stall, and face the girl for the first time, a kind face greets you. her brown skin is flush, hair twisted into two plaited horns that are gathered into a half bun, the rest pinned around her head. your nose twitches, itchy.

she grins, "there you are. no longer crying."

the cold from the running faucet burns against your cheeks. the face that peers back at you from the mirror is dishevelled. red-rimmed eyes and wet splotches all over. you grimace, "look like a sordid mess."

"well, yes, but, like a normal sordid mess. like, almost pretty normal," she stands behind. a red lion's emblem is embroidered into her uniform. she tilts her head, "like, i look way worse when i do it. at least you cry prettily."

"oh, you think so?" you turn to her, "no one's ever said that."

her nose wrinkles, but the mirth isn't gone from her eyes, "well, don't suppose you make a habit of sobbing in front of others. lest you wouldn't have barricaded yourself in the stall."

you hum, "quite the excellent point."

she flashes her teeth and nods proudly, "of course, got many," there's a slight silence where she appraises you, "you're lestrange, right? i've seen you in my classes," she asks as though she knows, and extends her hand for you to shake, "i'm dorcas. meadowes. gryffindor.”

“slytherin,” you respond, but shake her hand anyway.

“can tell,” dorcas says, that same lilt of a smile on her lips, “you wear it with pride.”

yes, of course, because that is what lestrange do. her family name is unrecognizable, but you don't think to wonder on it much further. her eyes are friendly and warm, and she takes to fixing the wayward strands of your hair while you dab a bit of tissue paper to your nose. a few seconds go by, and she glances at you from under the hair fallen onto her forehead, "i still have parchment, and we could still get you those curses down."

"haven't the ink to draw any, unfortunately," you reply.

"hm. next time then," dorcas decides for herself, and makes for the door, "think a walk to the kitchens might be in order?" she leaves her invitation open-ended, her gaze expectant, "could use a warm cinnamon bun."

you wonder about her, dorcas meadowes, with the shiny dark eyes and plaits and how well she talks to strange girls who cry in bathroom stalls. "alright," you accept, the smile on your face not as strained, nor sad, nor angry, "lead the way."

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whorediaries-09 · 1 day

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can i use you up?

pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s) - angst. a/n- a different take on my style of writing.

little train series masterlist.

sirius wanted nothing more but to punch the wall beside him. his feet were atrociously restless and he felt something within him that he'd never felt before. he was sure his knuckles would turn white with the grip he had on the newspaper.

in a span of a few years, he'd escaped the treacherous hold of his nightmares, been accepted into a place he could happily-safely call home. he'd escaped the prison- the hell hole that bound him down, depriving him of the ever sweet freedom. he had found people he could keep close and call home.

little did he know his home was really only just the town where he'd be arrested.

he didn't know he'd be barricaded to his ghosts, tied together with his pasts and prison. he didn't know he'd been bound by shrieking dementors that'd reminded him of his memories he'd so carefully concealed within the corners of his mind.

and with each passing day, when his trial is put off, he feels his hope blur and the fire of rebellion seeded within the crevices of his heart die.

he feels his last bit of sanity fade.

sirius doesn't get any visitors. he never expected any the moment he'd been thrown away into the cell. so when the dementors rattle down on the cell, he grumbles, turning and tossing onto the stone floor.

'sirius!' moody's loud voice bellows. sirius recognizes it, he's learnt to memorize it and hate it so very well.

'what is it alastor!' he screams back. he fills the rage fill him up again. he likes it when he's left alone - when he's not treated like an animal in a zoo. he feels revolting, it scars him into the very depth of his skin.

'the ministry has decided to look into your case once again.' alastor says. his fake eye moves erratically. sirius has learnt to not let the joy affect him. the dementors don't scare him, no. the memories do. so with lifeless eyes, a true contradiction to the gaze of sirius black, he stares at him.

'i thought the ministry was far too fed with injustice? did their big fat brains come back to senses again? or is today april fool's alastor?' he spits.

'black, mind it. i might change my mind.' he piercingly glares at him. he chooses to stay silent and not give him a reaction upon his statement.

'who's taking on my case?' he asks, silently. he's quietened down. he doesn't want the emotions to overrule his logics.

'i am.' a new voice replies. sirius stares for the source of the voice, suddenly interested.

you appear from the shrouded darkness. staring ahead into his piercing gaze, you stand determined on the floor. as formality you offer him your name. he shakes his head, gazing at your form up and down. you shiver under his cold gaze.

'what interests you in my case, young lady?' he asks. to establish your seriousness, you stare right through his cold gaze.

'the injustice.' you whisper. he stares at you before his face breaks into a mocking smile which turns into a harsh, cruel laughter. his head heats up with rage he's never felt before.

'injustice?' he spits. 'i've to believe suddenly all you have gotten your senses back and you should hold a trial for someone who was arrested without proper evidence?' he waits for you to say something. he notices a shift in your body language as you relax your shoulders and shift your eyes on the ground before staring into his again.

'i don't care if you believe me or not. what i can promise you is that i'll give you your freedom.' you say, so serenely. for a moment, he feels a pang of jealousy at your calm state. but it quickly dissipates when the rage controls him over again.

'is that so? what lovely words! why should i believe that you don't think i'm the killer? what confirmation do i get, young lady?'

'that's a fair point you've got there mr. black. but i believe you because...well there's no way you could've been the cold blooded killer. i can only promise you and give you the surety of my words. if you insist, i can make the unbreakable vow with you.'

'you can't do that,' grunted moody, 'it'll trigger the dementors.'

'fine. if he wants, i can make the vow on the day of the trial.' alastor grunts.

'no.'

'yes,' you emphasize. 'do you want me to make the vow? will you believe me then?' sirius stares at you. he tries to decipher through the curtain of your blank stare.

'yes.' he says, his voice quiet and seemingly calm. within him, however, he breaks. he hears the hurricane with his name on it, coming nearer and nearer. the blood rushes to his ears, and he buries the heat within himself.

so, he does his best to lay to rest all of the feelings that have been in his heart. but in his mind, they sink into a swamp.

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

original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

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

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius

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artemisia-black · 2 days

Text

The Noble and most Ancient House of Black discord celebrates 25 years of PoA

Prisoner of Azkaban, aka the Book of the Fave, is coming up to its 25-year anniversary.

To celebrate, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black Discord will be holding a small fest.

From the 23rd-25th May, either share in the discord, send me an ask or tag me (and I will reblog) in any Sirius-related stuff you want to share:

PoA microfics

Moodboards

Art

Headcannons

Anything else you want to share to celebrate.

Rules: No character or ship bashing.

#sirius black #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #the noble and most ancient house of black

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maesfictional · 1 day

Text

A new fic: White Linen Lies

I'm so excited to share my newest WIP, White Linen Lies!

WLL is a Deathly Hallows rewrite in which Draco Malfoy finds himself nearly lifeless in the hands of the Golden Girl.

In a turn of events where the Resurrection Stone is stolen and Draco is gravely injured in the Skirmish at the Room of Requirement, Hermione is left with no choice but to save his life as the rest of The Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore’s Army are forced to flee, leaving Wizarding Britain with an impending war and an unaccounted for Death Eater.

New chapters will be posted on AO3 every Wednesday and Sunday afternoon on maesfictional. Please, join in on the conversation and come say hi! 💚

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55267240

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gracexthoughts · 1 day

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of violent delights chap 22

the champions

31 october 1996

Mattheo’s POV

“It’s not going to wooork!” Granger calls in a sing-song voice as the Twins soak in the scattered applause from the other students around, ready to submit their names. The Goblet of Fire has been set up towards the front of the Great Hall, the tables pushed back and squished together to accommodate the large cup and magical age line surrounding it.

“C’mon, ‘Mione!” One twin groans.

“Have a little faith,” adds the other, which I think is George. Mia has been trying to show me how to tell them apart and if they would stand still I probably could do it.

“She’s right,” Mia says from my side. It’s a Saturday so Mia and I went to Hogsmeade for lunch and as we were entering the castle on our way back, the Twins were running into the Great Hall like they were about to win a race. “You didn’t account for the age line.” The Twins turn to look at her eyebrows raised.

“This right here, is an age line,” Mia says, pointing to the silvery blue boundary that encircles the Goblet.

"Dumbledore drew it himself!" Granger says, seeming very pleased that Mia agrees with her.

“I highly doubt Dumbledore’s magic can be fooled by a dodge as obvious as an aging potion," adds Mia.

“Ah! But that’s why it's so genius, Phe,” Fred says; I can tell it's Fred because he steps so close to Mia that I have to make an effort not to push him back. Fred is much more physically affectionate with Mia than George and while I trust Mia, I can’t help the jealousy that flairs in my chest for the guy that knows my girlfriend better than I may ever be able to.

“Because it's so obvious that they would assume no one would try it!” George answers.

“By all means, if it works then you can brag for the rest of the year about how genius you both are,” Mia laughs at her friends and the Twins high five, drink their potions, and turn to the Goblet, very slowly and carefully stepping over the age line, which bends against the legs but does let them pass. Mia bites her bottom lip as she watches it all happen and my mind wanders as I watch her for a moment, no longer interested in the Twins but rather focusing on my jumping her right here.

My focus is pulled from Mia’s lips as the Twins shout and fly over the crowd surrounding the Goblet and land hard on the floor. I follow my girlfriend as she pushes her way through the crowd frantically only to see Fred and George fighting on the floor as old men. Mia fails to stifle a laugh and I don’t even try not to bust out laughing as the Weasley Twins, in their new found old age, wrestle and yell at each other on the floor of the Great Hall. Eventually, Mia sighs and steps forward, lightly kicking their sides until they release each other.

“Not to say I told you so but-”

“Mia, you gotta help us fix it!” One of them begs, their voice cracking as they stand, rubbing their back as if it pains them. Well, they are elderly now I guess.

“What? How is this my fault? I think you both look rather dashing,” Mia teases, clearly trying hard not to bust out laughing again. “I’ll walk with you to Pomphrey,” she adds before turning to me. “Met up after the feast?”

“Sounds good, princess. Good luck with the grandads,” I press a small kiss to her forehead before she turns and shoves the elderly Twins forward, the three of them leaving with their laughter echoing in their wake.

“Can’t believe you’re dating her,” Draco’s voice sneers from my side and I turn to face my cousin, his hair reflecting the blue flames coming out of the Goblet.

“Bugger off, Draco,” I grumble, turning back to see Krum throw his name into the Goblet as well, all the girls in the room admiring him as he turns and leaves.

“Father was surprised, of course, but sounds like your mother wasn’t. Although, he supposed it could be a very clever ruse. Breaking the heart of The Girl Who Lived, a small revenge for the death of a father,” Draco continues. Like a little brother, he has always loved winding me up, and unfortunately, I’m an easy man to anger.

“You and your father need to keep your noses out of my life,” I snap, turning and shoving the smaller boy slightly, causing him to stumble back a step. “You leave the Potters alone.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” He cries indignantly but before I can respond, Ella appears by his side.

“C’mon Dray, don’t lower yourself by fussing with blood traitors,” she coos cruelly, her dark eyes narrowed at me angrily. I clench my jaw at the insult but I don’t rise to their taunts.

“Come off it, Elladora,” Enzo says, appearing at my side with his arms crossed. Theo appears on my other side and gratitude floods in me for my two best friends. Ella and Draco roll their eyes and sneer as they turn their backs and leave the Great Hall whispering intently.

“Malfoy-Riddle holidays are gonna get super fun for you,” Theo comments, trying to break tension, and I grunt in acknowledgement.

“Don’t worry about them, Matt,” Enzo says calmly.

“Easy,” I respond simply. “You guys want a smoke?” I ask, wanting to escape to the Astronomy Tower and ignore the rest of the world.

“Yeah, let’s go. Tired of this display anyway,” Theo nods and the three of us exit the Great Hall and make our way towards the tower.

✦

“The time has come to select our Triwizard Tournament champions!” Dumbledore announces, stepping down from the teachers table towards the Goblet of Fire, his hand outstretched as he dims the torches around the Hall.

“Ah, here we go,” Evan mutters, turning in his seat so he can watch, leaning his back against the table. I catch Mia’s eye at the next table over and she smiles, scrunching her nose adorably before turning back around to watch the choosing ceremony. “Once the champions' names are called, please come up to the top of the Hall and proceed into the next chamber and await your instructions,” Dumbledore motions towards a door to the side of the teachers table.

The entirety of the hall waits in tense excitement as the Goblet of Fire begins shining more brightly, so bright it's almost painful to look too closely at it. Suddenly, the flames turn bright red and jump up to a height of a foot or so and a burned piece of parchment flutters down and Dumbledore catches it easily. “The Durmstrang champion is… Victor Krum!”

Applause echoes through the halls for the Bulgarian Seeker as he stands and sweeps up towards the table and is congratulated by Karkaroff before he disappears through the door.

“No surprise there,” Enzo mutters back to Theo and I as the flames just up again and spit out another paper.

“The champion for Beauxbatons is… Fleur Delacour!” A lithe blonde girl stands from amongst the sea of blue silk uniforms, looking quite proud, and saunters up to Dumbledore before continuing in Krum’s path as the student body cheers, especially the boys.

“Oh man,” Evan says as he leans back to watch Fleur as she walks, adding a low whistle to punctuate his sentence. Astoria reaches over the table and smacks Evan on the back of his head. The French girl is beautiful for certain, but it seems I am one of the only ones not fawning over her.

Just as Fleur disappears, the goblet shoots the third and final paper. “The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!” The Slytherins around me groan, but Hufflepuff explodes in uproar as they cheer for their champion.

“What a pretty boy,” Theo mutters but I’m focused on Mia as Diggory smiles and nods at Mia as he passes her, his eyes lingering longer than on anyone else he passes. I see George and Fred glaring at him and I’m glad someone else agrees that the newly appointed Hogwarts champion should stay far away from my girl.

“That’s it!” Dumbledore yells, the students quieting down as Diggory slips through the door. “We now have our three champions, and I’m sure the rest of you will be very supportive.” The Headmaster falters in his speech as the Goblet begins sparking and the flames turn red and shoot out a fourth paper.

Dumbledore, looking quite bewildered, reaches for the paper and squints at it. He murmurs a name but I’m sitting too far away to hear it but the students up front begin whispering rapidly and looking towards the Gryffindor table.

“... Potter,” my blood runs cold at the last name, although I didn’t catch the first name I’m terrified for Mia. She never said she found a way to enter, she didn’t even seem like she wanted to. “HARRY POTTER!” Dumbledore roars louder, interrupting my thoughts and relief floods my chest, soon followed by guilt.

For a moment no one moves. My eyes find Mia a table over, seemingly frozen in time with wide eyes. She doesn’t move until Harry passes her on his way up to Dumbledore, and even I can tell Harry doesn’t understand what’s happening. At the sight of her brother, Mia moves suddenly, like her brain was struggling to process information but now that it has she jumps up from her seat.

“Headmaster, it must be a mistake!” She calls and Harry looks back to his sister, the fear and confusion in her eyes mirrored in his near identical ones. Mia steps over her seat, trying to go after her brother, but one of the Weasley Twins, I can’t tell which from here, stands and pulls her back. She struggles against him as she watches her brother take the parchment from Dumbledore and walk dazed towards the door. Evan, Enzo, Theo and Astoria all look at me with varying degrees of confusion.

“How did he get past the Age Line?” Evan whispers but I’m not listening. I don’t listen to Dumbledore as he dismisses us either because all I’m aware of is the terror on Mia’s face. Students begin standing around me and I push my way through the crowd to try and reach Mia.

Mia doesn’t stay put though, she begins pushing her way towards Dumbledore, who is speaking to McGonagall next to the goblet. I’m a few steps behind Mia as she reaches the professors.

“Headmaster! How is this possible? Harry didn’t enter, he couldn’t have!” She cries and I can hear the panic in her voice as I step up behind her, the Twins next to me now as well.

“Miss Potter, please,” Dumbledore says placatingly but Mia forges ahead.

“You can’t let him compete! He’s only sixteen!”

“We will do everything we can to ensure-”

“I’ll compete for him!” Mia interrupts again, and I share a glance with the Twins. “I’ll be 19 in a few months, please! You have to let me take his place, he’s not-

“Miss Potter!” Dumbledore snaps, halting Mia in her tracks. “Please, let us handle it and you can come speak to me about it tomorrow if you still wish,” and with that Dumbledore turns around and sweeps back towards the teacher’s table, followed by Karkaroff, Madam Maxine, and an entourage of Hogwarts teachers.

“Professor, please, I’ll do anything if it means Harry doesn’t have to do this. There has to be a way,” Mia begs of McGonagall, whose face is grave. McGonagall reaches out and puts a hand on Mia’s shoulder.

“I know you’re frightened, Miss Potter, but there is not much that can be done tonight. I will speak with the Headmaster and you and I can speak tomorrow. For now, just go on back to the common room, and be there for your brother,” McGonagall squeezes Mia’s shoulder and gives her a small, reassuring smile before turning and following after Dumbledore.

Mia watches her go for a moment before turning back to me, Fred and George. Her beautiful green eyes are wide with fear and her bottom lip is trembling.

“C’mon, Mia. Let’s go back to the common room, I’m sure Harry will be back up there soon,” Fred says calmly. The Great Hall is almost completely empty now save us and a few stragglers.

Mia turns her eyes to me, “Will you com-”

“Of course, Mia. C’mon,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and I lead her out of the Great Hall behind the Twins, the last people in the Hall eyeing Mia suspiciously.

As we enter the Gryffindor Common Room, students shoot us looks, emotions ranging from suspicion to hatred. I mean, every time I’m anywhere near Gryffindor Tower I get plenty of wary stares and glares but I’ve never seen this reaction for Mia. Mia begins to follow Fred and George to the couches where the rest of her and Harry’s friends sit but she looks around for a moment at the rest of the room, her jaw ticking.

“I have to go write to Remus and… I have to go write to Remus,” she says in the general direction of the circle of friends and then continues through the room, her head held high. I follow after her and find her frantically searching through the piles on her desk.

Something I’ve learned about Mia in the last two months, she’s kinda messy. I mean she’s brilliant and seems to have a system, but she’s also a little chaotic. Typically, every surface in her dorm room is littered with books and quills and parchment and the occasional dirty coffee cup. It doesn't help that her friends are in here all the time as well, I'm sure, but she doesn't seem to mind.

I close the door gently as Mia manages to find a quill and some clean parchment. She leans over her desk, perched on the very edge of her chair as she furiously scribbles out a letter.

“Mia…” I say gently, placing my hands on her shoulders.

“One sec,” she mutters, pushing one paper addressed to Remus Lupin, her godfather, away and switching to a second piece of parchment and starting a second letter.

“Who’s Padfoot?” I ask curiously, having never heard the name before.

“Nobody,” she mutters distantly and I sigh, backing up a few steps. I stand in the middle of the room, my mind running a hundred miles a minute at who the hell she’s writing to. I grit my teeth as I try to control my jealousy and worries. After another minute of the scratching of her quill she stands and moves to grab her cloak.

“Woah, where are you going?” I ask, stepping in front of her.

“Owlery, I have to send these,” she says, not looking at me. Once Mia gets her mind set on something, not much can stop her.

“Mia, just stop for a second and think! It’s dark and Harry will probably be back any minute. You can send them tomorrow!” I say, still blocking her path.

“Mattheo, stop! Let me go! They have to know! I need their help!” Mia yells as panic starts to overtake her again.

“No! Mia, just take a breath!”

“Get out of my way!”

“No!” I yell, and put my hand out towards her, without thinking, and she flinches. “Oh fuck, Mia. Princess, I’m sorry. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise,” I say, lowering my voice and my hand slowly. My heart breaks as I look at my girlfriend looking at me like a cornered animal.

“No, I know. I’m sorry,” Mia says, dropping her gaze to the floor and shaking her head. I hesitantly take a few steps forward until I’m standing toe to toe with her and reach out, lifting her chin so she looks up at me.

“Don’t apologize. What they did to you is not your fault and I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m just… worried about you,” I say earnestly, cupping her face as a tear spills over her eyelashes. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, pulling her into a hug and, finally, she relents into my embrace, shaking as sobs wrack her body. “You’re safe, baby, no one’s gonna hurt you.”

After a few minutes, Mia takes a deep breath and steps back, moving to sit on her bed and I follow, sitting next to her. “Padfoot is Harry’s godfather… Better known as Sirius Black,” Mia says quietly.

“What?” I say, surprised and turn to look at Mia.

“I’m gonna explain, it's a long story though, so just hang on, okay?” Mia says, setting the letters down on her nightstand and leaning abc against the headboard. I nod and lean against one of the posts of her bed, watching her intently as she tells me the story of her second to last night of fifth year. How she and Harry found out that Sirius Black is innocent and the person who betrayed her parents was actually Peter Pettigrew, who had been hiding as the Weasley family rat.

“We write to him as Padfoot in case the Ministry intercepts one, so… yeah,” Mia finishes with a sigh and I can’t help but laugh, a memory resurfacing suddenly. “What? I’m telling the truth!”

“No, I believe you, I just… So at that party last year when I asked if you had anything to do with Sirius Black escaping, well I just never thought you actually had!” I laugh, and after a moment Mia laughs too.

“Bloody hell, I forgot about that,” she laughs, but too soon the levity fades from her face, worry creeping back in. I move to lay next to her and pull her into my embrace. She lays her head over my chest and wraps her arms tightly around my waist as I do the same around her shoulder, holding her close to me.

“It’s gonna be okay,” I whisper into her hair, rubbing circles on her arm. “We’ll figure it out.” I hold her like this until her breathing evens out and she slips down into her dreams.

✦

The first thing I notice when I wake, is Mia is nowhere to be found.

a/n; ayo new banner!! i was spending way too much time trying to find the perfect gifs so i decided to make a banner instead. the amount of time i spent on those stupid letters is kinda ridiculous

taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @abaker74 @stxrsberkshire

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #matteo riddle #hogwarts oc #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hp fanfic #hogwarts houses #wizarding world #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle smut #slytherin boys #goblet of fire #of violent d #of violent delights

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nickstarking · 2 days

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(Slytherin boys random quotes)

Thaddeus Nott: I studied with your grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy

Draco Malfoy: What was he like at school?

Thaddeus Nott: A pain in the ass, preppy, pompous, insufferable, anything that happened he would say "I'll tell my father" he was just like you.

Draco Malfoy: 🤡

Theo Nott: Dad, stop making me embarrass myself in front of my friends!

Thaddeus Nott: I'm not embarrassing you.

Mattheo Riddle: A

Thaddeus Nott: That annoying boy again? Didn't I tell you not to bring him here?!

Theo Nott: Dad, he's a Riddle, you can't talk like that.

Thaddeus Nott: Just because he's related to the dark lord? I say whatever I want. I'm not afraid of anything!

Mattheo Riddle: Sir were you talking to me?

Thaddeus Nott: *doing drama and acting like a poor, defenseless thing* No! I'm just a helpless, blind man! A poor disabled and frail gentleman *pretends to faint very dramatically*

Mattheo Riddle: Wow Theo, I know you don't get along very well with your father, but you could help the old man.

Draco Malfoy: HELP! HE HAD A HEART ATTACK! HE'S ON THE GROUND! IS DEAD!

Thaddeus Nott: *still pretending to faint*

Mattheo Riddle: If you want help I know how to bury someone discreetly. Don't ask me how.

Theo Nott: My father didn't die!

Draco Malfoy: Of course *disguising* I knew he wasn't dead the whole time, I would never fall for that.

#mattheo riddle #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin #slytherin boys #random quotes #thaddeus nott (theodore nott father)#nott riddle era #theodore nott #draco malfoy

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gender-thief2 · 2 days

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i just finished Harry Potter and the Welcome to the World of Grey…and all i can say is. wow. like WOW. (its by sobsicles on ao3)

also this tag is NOT a lie😔🙏

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #drarry #drarry fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #ao3 fanfic

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fortisfilia · 2 days

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Promised Part 16 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

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.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, physical fights, mentions of torture (brief), blood and violence, character death. Read with care!

Word count: 4k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 15 | Part 17

Part 16 - 30 June 1945

The N.E.W.T.s had gone by so quickly, it felt like all the preparations, all those years in Hogwarts and all the worries they had brought, had been of utmost exaggeration. Of course, they had been challenging, but what the Professors had said about them in advance, how hard and draining they would be, how nervous every student had been, made it even more curious afterwards. It had only taken a few days after all. Some days of your life, which would most likely be forgotten in a few years. Just like any other week. And all that fuss for that? Well, at least they were over.

Tom, Camille and you had passed most classes with the highest grades. Freda had gotten some outstanding grades as well and even Avery and Lestrange had qualified, if only barely. The final evening in the Great Hall was filled with a strange kind of melancholy for the students of year seven. You had done it, all of you. Seven years in Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. It was like your first year had only gone by moments ago, you could practically still feel the sorting hat sitting on top of your head. But alas, all good things come to an end.

Final points were given to all of the houses and, to most people’s surprise, Hufflepuff won the cup. Everyone knew headmaster Dippet favoured Slytherin and Tom and Freda had surely given their own house a few extra points here and there, but Avery and Lestrange’s robbery from Slughorn had cost Slytherin too many points to recover from. All Hufflepuffs were overwhelmed with joy and Ben even ran over from the Gryffindor table to kiss Camille on the cheek while she celebrated.

Walking through the halls one last time was strange, you couldn’t fathom that you would leave the castle ultimately. It had grown to be everyone’s second home and it would always remain so in your heart. Sadly, there wasn’t a lot of time for grief, as the antidote for Mors Grano was finally ready and waited to be filled into a flask to be used the following day. Tomorrow, June 30th would be your wedding day. A day you had dreaded but still couldn’t wait for. A day that was about to change everything.

And there you were. In an old chapel north of Ramsbury, a small muggle town, where no one knew who you were. The Gaunts had chosen the place themselves and had only told your family where to go the day of, most likely to make sure you couldn’t plan to mess with them.

The chapel was dull, as was everything else there. No guests, not even a priest or a registrar to wed the two of you. Marvolo had told you that he was to do it himself. The place was so small, it wouldn’t have even fit a lot of people, but you still wished that at least Camille could have been there to witness. And so, with a heavy heart, you stood in the tiny side room, where Mother’s wedding dress waited to be put on, while Elsie, your parents and the Gaunts waited in the chapel.

“You alright?” Tom asked as he fixed his tie in front of the mirror.

You watched him as you approached the dress, your fingers brushing over the silk skirt. He looked great in his tailored black suit, white shirt and dark green tie, there was no way of denying it. Freda Morris would have been just as green with envy if she had seen him, but still, not everything was about looks.

“I’m alright,” you said and took another look at the dress. “I have to change now. Put this thing on.”

“I’ll give you some privacy in a minute.” He turned to the table in the corner where a few things had been gathered, including a box he had put there. “I brought someone.”

He pulled off the top and you peaked inside. “Nagini! Marvolo allowed for you to take her here?”

“He doesn’t know,” Tom shrugged. “And it would be better if it stayed that way.”

“I see,” you said as you reached out your hand for the snake to smell you. “Well, at least one of my friends is here.”

Tom wore an unreadable expression when he closed the box again, his lips thin as he nodded slightly. “Do you have the antidote with you?”

“Yes,” you answered and pulled it out from your pocket. The flask was the size of your palm, small and translucent. The potion inside shone through the glass like a silver and lilac gloss.

“Alright then,” he said. “Give it to your sister as soon as you can. I’ll wait outside with the others.”

When he closed the door behind himself you heard Marvolo nagging about what was taking so long, urging for you to hurry. The bastard made everything about himself again, even on your wedding day, which should have been the happiest day of your life. You pulled the dress off the hanger with force, put it on and used your wand to adjust it here and there to make it fit better. When you looked into the mirror, it felt like staring at a stranger’s reflection. The dress was beautiful, but you didn’t come close to what a happy bride should look like. Hair and makeup had been done in a hurry, nothing was as perfect as it could have been. No traditions, no extended family or friends, not even a banquet. But what had you expected? It was clear from the beginning that the wedding wouldn’t be anything like you had dreamed of since you were little. It didn’t have to be like this though. Not as marginal, not as a means to an end.

Three hard knocks on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. “Are you done yet?” Marvolo’s muffled voice called. “Hurry up!”

Desperation turned into annoyance and your eyebrows furrowed even deeper. What did he want now? “I need a minute,” you answered as you opened the door only an inch. “Elsie, Mum, can you help me with my dress?”

Marvolo mumbled a few incomprehensible words while the two walked in. To hell with him, he could wait for five more minutes before he would get what he wanted. And you should get what you wanted too. Right now.

Mother looked you up and down with a smile. “You‘re a beautiful bride, darling. What do you need help with?”

“Come,” you told them quietly and took Elsie by the hand, leading her to the other end of the tiny room, so that the Gaunts wouldn’t hear you. “I have to tell you something.”

The two looked at each other and then back at you, waiting for you to explain.

“I found something out a while back. Tom told me, he showed me. The curse that hit you, Elsie, it wasn’t sent by someone who wanted to attack Father. It wasn’t meant for Father at all.”

Elsie's eyes widened as Mother put a hand on her shoulder. “What do you mean? Why would you tell us that minutes before your wedding?” Mother asked.

“Let me explain,” you went on. “Tom showed me that it was the Gaunts who sent the curse. That’s why they found a cure so quickly. And why they didn’t heal her completely.”

Mother gasped faintly as her hand wandered up to her chest. “You mean…”

“Yes. They chose Elsie specifically so we would agree to their pact.”

“I… I can’t believe it,” Mother mumbled.

“They made me sick?” Elsie asked, her eyes as big and round as marbles. “On purpose?”

You nodded.

“But why haven’t you told us sooner?” Mother asked. “We could have-”

“I did as much as I could without attracting too much attention. Tom and I, we both assumed that the Gaunts wouldn’t even lift Elsie’s curse after the wedding. And even if they did, I wouldn’t trust them enough to let her drink anything that they would give to her again. So we brewed the antidote ourselves.”

You pulled out the flask and held it up in the air. Mother took it and examined it for a moment. “You brewed that?”

“Yes. Elsie, take it right now. You will be healed completely then and the Gaunts won’t notice anything.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Mother asked. “And what then? What are you going to do?”

“Yes, I’m sure it’s safe. And then,” you looked at the door to the chapel and heaved a sigh. “Then I’ll get married. Stick to the plan.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Mother said as she handed Elsie the flask.

“Would you rather have her drink something that Morfin brewed up? If he would give her anything at all.”

“You’re right,” she said and shook her head.

“Quick Elsie,” you urged. “Drink up and we’ll be ready to go.”

Elsie nodded as she pulled the cork off the flask, then put her lips around the opening and took a small sip. She scrunched up her face into a grimace. “Gross.”

“Sorry, princess. They don’t make recipes for strawberry flavoured antidotes yet. Now drink it.”

Elsie exhaled sharply, then threw her head back and let the liquid pour into her mouth. One swig, two. She had it down almost completely when suddenly the door flew open.

“Excuse me, ladies, what is taking you so long?” Marvolo asked, standing in the door frame, with Morfin, Father and Tom behind him. Marvolo stared at Elsie, who was just gulping down the last drops from the flask. “What is that? What did you give her?”

The three of you froze, staring back at Marvolo and the other men. Shit.

“Just her vitamins,” you said. “To make sure she’s well for the ceremony.”

“No, no,” Marvolo huffed as he walked in. “Give me that.” He took the flask from Elsie’s hand and brought it to his nose. “Morfin, come here.”

Morfin entered the room as well, took a look at the empty flask and smelled it. Father and Tom took several steps in too, filling up the room almost completely.

“Stop,” Marvolo ordered and held his hand up to Father and Tom. “I didn’t tell you to come in.” The two halted and remained standing by the door. “Now, son. What is it?”

Morfin inspected the remaining liquid inside the flask, shaking it to see the single droplets hanging inside the vial. One side of his mouth pulled up into a ghastly smirk before he spoke through gritted teeth, “Mors Grano antidote.”

Marvolo brought his hand up to his neck, fumbling on the chain that hung there. That must have been where he carried their own flask with the unfinished antidote. It was still there, which visibly confused him. He remained calm, wouldn’t dare to show that he didn’t know how you had done it, though his eyes had turned dark.

“You little bitch,” he spat. “Morfin, take the child.”

Morfin did as he was told, quicker than any of you could have reacted and pulled Elsie to the middle of the room by the hand, then stepped behind her, one hand around her neck, his wand in his other one, pointed right at Elsie’s head.

Mother cried out when she saw what had happened to her daughter and turned to walk over to her, while Father ran towards Morfin and Elsie as well.

“Stupefy!” Marvolo called, his wand directed at Father, who fell to the ground immediately.

“How dare you, Gaunt,” Mother screamed, voice breaking, as she approached Morfin. “Let my daughter go!“

“Oh please,” Marvolo merely sighed, raising an eyebrow. With a swing of his wand Mother was knocked out as well, her body crashing to the ground with a thud. “I would have spared you, woman,” he said and shook his head. “Forced me to do it.” His eyes met yours as he used his wand again and with one swift motion, whisked your parents’ unconscious bodies to the corner of the room. “I told you not to step in. No one’s making a move now unless I tell them to.”

Silent tears ran down Elsie’s cheeks, who was still captured between Morfin’s hand and his wand. You had managed to pull out your own wand during the turmoil and looked over at Tom in the doorframe, who had done the same.

Marvolo noticed the looks you exchanged and heaved a bitter laugh. “You two, eh? Partners in crime? And what do you think you’re doing there, girl? With your wand out. Do you really think you can defeat me with your schoolbook magic?”

You gripped your wand tighter to prevent your hand from shaking, swallowed down thickly and frowned. There were a million things you wanted to say, thousands of curse words you could have called him, but Morfin still had Elsie between his fingers. “Don’t you underestimate me, Marvolo.”

He clicked his tongue, let his head fall back and laughed wholeheartedly. “Oh, juveniles. Graduated a day ago and think they’ll conquer the world. Well, I got some bad news for you then. But first, you’re going to tell me how you’ve found out about Mors Grano. And how you got a hold of an antidote that isn’t ours.”

You didn’t answer and only looked at Elsie, who breathed rapidly, her hands holding on to Morfin’s grip around her neck.

“I see,” Marvolo sighed and turned his head towards the door. “Tom, would you give us the honour then? Come, stand next to your bride.”

Tom walked over silently and placed himself next to you, his hand gripping yours.

“Oh look at that,” Marvolo feigned. “Tragically in love. Now, Tom, explain.”

Tom didn’t answer, only held your hand a bit tighter and you could feel something cold inside of it, something metallic, perhaps.

“No?” Marvolo asked. “You don’t want to tell us? Well, then we’ll have to motivate you. Morfin, go ahead.”

Morfin grinned but didn’t point his wand at Elsie anymore. Instead, he pointed it right at you. “Crucio!”

The pain that rushed through you was unbearable from the moment it had started. Falling to your knees, you opened your mouth to scream but couldn’t hear the sounds that escaped you over the static ringing in your ears. A million knives must have pierced your body at once, and they scraped off your skin with rusty blades inch by inch, while your head hammered and stung as if a lightning bolt had struck right into it. Your vision had left you from the pain, everything around you had gone white and you only heard scraps of conversation between the all-consuming buzz that rumbled between your ears. Tom was begging them to stop, you assumed, but couldn’t concentrate on his words, as the pain threatened to crack your skull.

Then, as quickly as it had started, it ended. You opened your eyes slowly, blinked a couple of times when your perception came back and felt a small hand on your cheek. Elsie kneeled above you, next to Tom.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice hoarse, while you sat up groggily.

Marvolo was still standing in his spot, looking down at Morfin, who lay on the ground, holding his leg with both hands. And attached to his thigh, was Nagini, pressing her fangs into him through his trousers.

“Nagini,” you whispered and as soon as you had said her name, the snake let go of Morfin and retracted.

“She crawled out of her box when he hit you with the curse,” Tom said quietly. “And bit him before they could have noticed.”

Tom helped to get you on your feet again and even though your legs were still shaky from the Cruciatus Curse, you stood in front of Elsie, to shield her from the Gaunts.

Morfin winced in pain and held his leg. Nagini’s venom spread quickly, Morfin’s thigh was twitching on its own. “Father,” he whined. “I need treatment. Help me get home.”

Marvolo looked down at his son, lips parted with an expression of sheer revulsion on his face. “Do you think I have time to take care of your little injuries right now? Suck it up.”

“But… But Father, I can’t feel my leg anymore,” Morfin panted. “I might die when the venom reaches my heart.”

Marvolo sighed and bumped his foot against Morfin’s leg, to which his son screamed. “Then leave.”

Morfin nodded, it must have taken all of his remaining strength not to pass out, and closed his eyes before he apparated, leaving only a few drops of blood on the floor behind.

“Now back to you,” Marvolo said and looked at Tom as if nothing more than a minor inconvenience had just occurred. “Don’t you dare lie to me. You know I can kill everyone in this room within a second.”

Tom still didn’t answer and placed himself in front of Elsie and you, which made Marvolo laugh again.

“Oh, boy. You’d sacrifice yourself? For this family and not your own? I know I’ve raised you differently. You’re a disgrace.”

“You want me to tell you everything?” Tom asked. “Then let me come closer, so I can share all of my secrets.”

Marvolo remained unimpressed at the thought - there was no spell he couldn’t counter. So he rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Come as close as you want, son. But keep your wand up, where I can see it.”

And so Tom went. One step, two, three, four, until he was face to face with his Grandfather. Marvolo still eyed Tom’s wand, gripping his own tightly. And then, Tom moved his other hand abruptly, jerking it toward Marvolo’s abdomen once. You couldn’t see from where you stood and only noticed when Marvolo looked down himself and opened his mouth.

“Imperio,” Tom said quietly while Marvolo collapsed.

Now that you could see what he had done, you put your hands over Elsie’s eyes, holding them closed. Marvolo was bleeding from his stomach and Tom held a bloody knife in his wandless hand.

“I’m just making sure you can’t apparate,” Tom said. “Like uncle did. The coward. I want to see how you die.”

Marvolo looked up at Tom, opened his mouth but didn’t say anything, tears edging on the corners of his eyes.

“No. You don’t get to talk now,” Tom went on. “Never again. You’re going to listen. And I’m even going to tell you what you wanted to hear. I found a way to tell her what you have done to Elsie. I stole Morfin’s book, and we brewed the antidote ourselves. Oh yes, before I forget, we also stole some Banshee tears from Morfin, while you were out. Scrook and Hokey were very helpful. I even learned some new things this year. Some of them from a muggle-born, can you believe? It got me thinking, you purebloods are so concentrated on magic, you wouldn’t even realise when I’d come up to you with a knife in my hand. And I was right. You didn’t. You called me a bastard so often and reminded me that my Father was a muggle. So I thought I’d remind you myself how much of a half-blood I am. Isn’t it awful dying the muggle way? So slowly, so weak.”

Marvolo laid to the side, impacted by the Imperius Curse and opened his mouth, coughing up blood, his eyes half-closed.

“And now, here we are,” Tom whispered. “You did this all to yourself. Good night, Grandfather.”

It took a while until you all had collected yourselves. Mother and Father had woken up some minutes after Marvolo had closed his eyes completely and you had brought Elsie into the chapel, so she wouldn’t have to see the body. Tom, your parents and you hadn’t decided yet what to do with Marvolo. You had thought about leaving him there, or to apparate him to Gaunt manor, where the elves would take care of it.

Mother joined Elsie and you in the chapel, so you took the chance to get some fresh air outside. Only out in the open did you notice that you were still wearing the white dress, now spotted with deep red stains. What scorn of fate it was to watch someone die by your groom’s hand on your wedding day. The door behind you opened again when Tom walked out. He had managed to remain composed better than the rest of you, despite what he had done.

He walked up to you, looking at the ground and only lifted his head when he stood right in front of you. A warm breeze brushed over your skin as the sun was setting. “Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded. Physically, at least. “I think I am.”

Tom dipped his head once too and loosened his tie. “Are you scared of me after what you’ve seen?”

You looked him in the eyes, tilting your head slightly. His pupils were extended, brows sitting calmly above. “No,” you answered. “I would have done the same if I had to.”

He bit his lip and nodded, hands inside his pockets before he took them out, held you by your waist and kissed you. All the tension and stress seemed to leave your body for a moment, your shoulders finally relaxing and you wished you could hold on to him like this for hours. Tom stayed close for a moment, pressed his forehead against yours and sighed. “So,” he said as he took a step back. “The pact is done with. Elsie is cured. You don’t have to marry me anymore.”

A surprised gasp fell from your lips. You hadn’t even thought about that yet. He was right. “I guess I don’t.”

Tom pushed the tip of his shoe through the gravel, drawing patterns. “But I wanted to know,” he said. “Would you have gone through with it if this had turned out differently? Would you have married me and stayed?”

There was a moment of silence when you thought about it. What answer could anyone give to such a question? You liked him, yes, you would even dare to say you were in love with him. But would you have really married him this quickly if you could have decided yourself?

“Would you?” you asked, to which he smirked. The wind tousled his hair, just like when you had sat with him at the bench back in the Hogwarts’ courtyard. You pulled the engagement ring Marvolo had sent off your finger and handed it to him. “Why don’t you ask me? Properly, I mean.”

Tom’s smirk vanished. He took your hand in his, holding the ring as he inspected you. He opened his mouth but shut it again to clear his throat. Then he asked, “Do you want to marry me?”

A smile formed on your face, one that he didn’t mirror, as long as you wouldn’t answer him. “No,” you said, closing his palm.

Tom’s expression didn’t change, but when you looked closely, you noticed that the size of his pupils had decreased, his brows now hanging in confusion. He still held onto your hand but you could feel him trembling.

“Not yet,” you added, your smile still in place. “Not like this and certainly not today. Not on Marvolo’s terms. Not without my friends and not before we really get to know each other and both decide, on our own, that we want to do it.” You leaned forward, kissed him once and said, “So, ask me again in a year or two?”

And then, the rarest sight of them all, Tom Riddle smiling genuinely, was given to you. He looked so handsome wearing it and with the orange light from the setting sun on his face when he pulled you in.

“I promise I will.”

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 17

Tags: @ariachaos @daardyrnitta

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flaming-brown-witch · 1 day

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What if Ron and Hermione first kissed sixth year right after the first Quidditch match?

“There really wasn’t anything in my pumpkin juice?” Ron said, astounded. “But the weather’s good . . . and Vaisey couldn’t play. . . I honestly haven’t been given lucky potion?” Harry shook his head. Ron gaped at him for a moment, then rounded on Hermione, imitating her voice. “You added Felix Felicis to Ron’s juice this morning, that’s why he saved everything! See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!” “I never said you couldn’t — Ron, you thought you’d been given it too!” But Ron had already strode past her out of the door with his broomstick over his shoulder.“ Er,” said Harry into the sudden silence; he had not expected his plan to backfire like this, “shall . . . shall we go up to the party, then?” “You go!” said Hermione, blinking back tears. “I’m sick of Ron at the moment, I don’t know what I’m supposed to have done. . . .” And she stormed out of the changing room too.

- HBP, Felix Felices

****

"I fucking hate you, Ronald Weasley!"

Ron whipped around to see Hermione, face contorted, marching behind him on the pitch. It took a second for the words to process, but once they did, shock mixed with his existing anger. He had never heard Hermione swear that way before.

She threw him one last dirty look as she passed by him before dramatically jerking her head forward and walking swiftly towards the mass of spectators heading back to the castle. Ron charged forward to catch up before she could slip into the crowd.

"Oh yeah?” he growled once he reached her side, bending low. “Well, I fucking hate you !"

Hermione immediately stopped in her tracks and swivelled to face him. "Oh, well that much has been obvious for the past four days, hasn’t it?” Tears leaked from her eyes. “The past five years, in fact! I don't even know why I put up with you, let alone why I'm in love with you!"

****

Read more below!

#romione #ron weasley #harry potter #ron x hermione #hermione granger #romione fanfic #ron weasley defense squad #fanfic #ronmione #hot ron agenda #new fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

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distantdarlings · 4 months

Text

HESITATING // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.9K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After a trip to Hogsmeade, you realize that Theo seems to get an awful lot of attention from girls. To avoid getting hurt, you start to distance yourself from him to rid yourself of your crush. But Theo is not having it. (Smut)

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! No protection - piv, praise kink, slight body worship, biting (one time), fem reader, language, one time skip, dom!Theo (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

more than friends - Isabel LaRosa

---

Your eyes found the clock on your bedside table. You were supposed to meet Theo in the Great Hall in ten minutes, yet you stood completely still in your dorm, switching back and forth between two outfits. It was a Saturday, and you didn’t have the usual crutch of your school uniform, hence the inability to decide.

As the year progressed, the temperature dropped outside as well as within the castle. When chills were scattered across your arms in class, your teeth were almost clacking together. At the thought, a small shiver went through you.

You decided on a heavier sweater and jeans, noting that if you were cold in the warmth of your dorm, you’d likely be cold in the stone Great Hall.

You slipped the outfit on, selecting a thick pair of socks and a ratty pair of shoes you’d had since fourth year. It wasn’t the most stunning style, but it was efficient and comfortable. Five minutes to go.

You slipped your wand into your back pocket and headed toward the hallway, slipping the dorm door closed behind you. Theo was likely already there with his group of friends, ones you liked to call friends, as well. The sons of big names around Hogwarts and the wizarding world, in general, though they were just boys to you.

As you arrived at the grand doors of the Great Hall, the boys in question caught your eye and shot excited waves at you. While some of them had a bit more pride than others, they always seemed happy to see you. A smile broke across your face as you walked over to the Slytherin table, claiming the space between Theo and Mattheo.

“Hello there, darling,” Theo purred in your ear when the group went back to their conversation. A twinge of heat flared in your chest. You hid a smile.

“Miss me?” You asked, voice low. He smiled.

“Of course I did.” He threw a playful arm over your shoulder. Though it seemed to be a friendly gesture, it felt like a claim to you. A claim by him placed onto you, alerting all who you belonged to. It made you embarrassingly happy.

“Any plans today, boys?” You asked. The group turned to you.

“Actually, we were thinking of heading down to Hogsmeade for the day,” Mattheo said. “We were going to ask if you wanted to go with us?”

“I’d love to, as long as I’m not forcing myself on the group,” you said, only half-joking.

“Of course not,” said Enzo, a sweet smile on his face. “We love hanging out with you.”

“Yeah?” You teased. Mattheo rolled his eyes.

“You know we like you,” he joked, running a mean hand over your head, tousling your hair. You exclaimed and pushed his hand away, laughing along with the dark boy.

“We definitely do,” Theo laughed, pulling you tighter against him for a moment.

“Well, alright,” You laughed. “Heading there now?”

“Yes!” Enzo clapped his hands together and stood, already headed toward the door. The rest of you laughed and made to follow him.

“What about jackets? It’s cold out there!” You exclaimed, rubbing your hands over your arms.

“Ah, I’ve prepared for that,” Theo said, picking up two jackets that had been placed beside where he’d once sat. You hadn’t noticed them originally.

He selected the smaller brown one and slipped it over your shoulder while he pushed his arms through the black one.

“Theo!” You exclaimed, running your hands over the nice corduroy material. “Where on earth did you get this? Whose is this?”

“Yours, of course,” he laughed as the four of you exited the castle and headed down the cobblestone path to Hogsmeade.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Call it an early Christmas gift,” he said, smiling smugly.

“You can’t be serious!”

“Of course I am,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I saw it in one of the shops last weekend and thought of you.”

If you weren’t the wiser, you’d have thought your heart had melted and poured down through your rib cage. A blush filled your cheeks and your stomach at the thought of Theo thinking of you and then buying something.

“Thank you, Theo,” you sighed. He laughed and shrugged it off as if he hadn’t just made your whole week, if not your whole decade.

The whole way down to Hogsmeade, your heart refused to let go of your brain. The pink filter that had been placed before your eyes glowed brightly. This little crush of yours seemed to have elevated a bit, but you’d never admit that, of course.

The group stopped before the Three Broomsticks, eager to slip into the cozy building’s warmth and order several rounds of Butterbeer.

The four of you pushed through the door and selected a round booth near one of the back windows. Enzo and Mattheo headed to the front counter to order for the group.

“Have you got any plans for the rest of the day?” Theo asked, naturally sliding his arm around the back of the booth behind you.

“Well, if you’ll have me, I’d love to stick with the three of you,” you suggested.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he smiled, playfully tugging on a piece of your hair. He was hoping you’d say that?

“Here we are!” Enzo cheered, placing two pints of Butterbeer on the table before the two of you. Mattheo was close behind him, carrying two for the both of them. They slid into the booth beside Theo, with you and Mattheo on the ends and Theo and Enzo between you. It felt comfortable.

Between each of your smiles, all with different personalities, you’d found a very safe space to stay. Every moment with these people made up a memory you knew you’d remember until you could no longer. Nothing could have ruined this evening.

“Oh, my God!” A loud voice said, drawing the syllables out. The four of you turned to look at the unfamiliar face standing before your table. “Teddy? Is that you?”

“Teddy?” You asked, wrinkling your nose at the nickname.

“Holy shit. Laverna!” Theo laughed. “How long has it been?”

“A while! I’ve just been visiting recently and thought I’d stop by Hogsmeade after not having seen it for so long.”

The girl standing before your table was incredibly gorgeous, with flowing platinum hair that reached the bottom of her spine and shocking blue eyes. Her skin appeared flawless and luminescent beneath the comforting lights within the restaurant. A fire of jealousy broiled in your chest.

“Guys, this is Laverna,” Theo introduced her. “We were pretty close before her family moved to France, and she transferred to Beauxbatons.”

“That’s me!” she giggled. It sounded like she even had a hint of a French accent. You struggled not to roll your eyes.

“I was just going to get a drink. Do you want to catch up a bit?” she asked.

Theo ushered Mattheo and Enzo out of the booth. A bit confused, they got to their feet and allowed the boy next to them to slide out and give a hug to the beautiful woman. You sipped your Butterbeer.

The other two boys sat back down and glanced up at you in scattered patterns. You ignored their eyes. You were pretty sure they knew about your little crush. Scratch that. They definitely knew.

Over your shoulder, you could hear the two of them laughing and carrying on. You attempted to ignore the burning in your cheeks. Mattheo and Enzo nursed their drinks, fidgeting randomly.

A few moments of randomized chatting passed before Theo finally came back, a poignant smile still painted over his lips. You looked away from him.

“Sorry about that,” he laughed, scooting in next to Mattheo. You tried not to think about the fact that he didn’t sit next to you. You were being dramatic.

“Alright, where to next?” He asked. The four of you discussed what to do with the rest of your day with random store names circling about. The final agreement was to head over to Honeydukes to enjoy some of their Christmas sales, and so Enzo could stock the small jar that sat beneath his bed. He tended to snack throughout the night as he was tending to assignments, refusing sleep.

You gathered together and made your way through the small town, window-shopping here and there. Every time you pouted over Theo’s seemingly obvious interest in the gorgeous girl, you remembered the jacket currently around you. Theo cared about you. Was it the way you wanted him to? You weren’t sure.

Once inside the colorful store, the four of you split and wandered your separate ways, each looking for different sweets. You always headed right toward the chocolate frogs, eager to extend your vast collection of cards. Perhaps it was a bit childish, but who cared? It was a fun hobby.

You stopped before the rack piled high with the blue boxes and stared. You tried to guess which one would have a card you’d never gotten before, conjuring up every ounce of intuition you had.

With another second of thought, you chose the one sitting on the shelf directly in front of your face. You were excited to open it with Theo; he always loved to see you add to your collection.

You turned the box over in your hands, examining the packaging. Out of the corner of your eye, a flash of red caught your attention. You turn to the left and notice Theo laughing aloud, talking with that same girl, Laverna, and another girl. A dark-haired goddess with blushed cheeks and a perfect figure. Fuck’s sake.

The urge to crush the chocolate box in your hand flashed through your mind. You rolled your eyes and headed further into the store, trying to put distance between the two of you.

Mattheo was standing against a wall, browsing a rack of magazines, occasionally picking one to flip through. You stopped before him, leaning up against the same wall.

“Pouting, are you?” He asks, not looking up from the magazine in his hands. You scoff.

“No, I’m not…I’m just…,” you sigh and close your eyes.

“Just in love?” He asked, glancing up at you with a smirk.

“Fuck off,” you groaned. Was it that obvious? Maybe it was. You didn’t know. An exhausted sigh left your lips.

Uproarious laughter sounded from the corner. You recognized one of the laughs as Theo’s. The others belonged to women. That was it.

“Okay, I’m heading back to the castle,” you said, throwing your hands up. “Tell Theo I wasn’t feeling well or something.”

“What? Are you sure?” Mattheo asked, finally dropping the magazine. “We still want you here with us.”

“It’s okay, I’m just tired,” you said. “I think I’ll just head back for a nap until dinner.” And with that, you paid for your candy and headed back to the castle.

xxx

Over the next week, you made an unintentional decision to skip meals with the group. You weren’t trying to avoid them—or maybe you were—but you found yourself wanting to be alone more and more the past few days.

The thought of having to see Theo after Saturday, when he had the attention of half the girls in Hogsmeade, made you want to vomit. Perhaps it was jealousy pushing you away, but it was your anxiety keeping you there. Every time you thought of heading back to eat with the group, you reminded yourself that Theo hadn’t tried to reach out since you’d stopped seeing them. If he wanted to, he would, right?

With your decision to keep away from the boys for a while, you’d taken to eating in your dorm over your lunch break. Nobody else was ever in there, and it was kind of comfortable, to be honest. You would nibble on your meal and read, or draw, or whatever came to mind, and it was nice and quiet.

You set your book on your bed and gathered the little meal you’d prepared for yourself. Pulling the covers back, you settled in and grabbed your novel. This was absolutely lovely after a busy morning.

Just as you’d begun to settle yourself into the routine you’d started the previous week, two shouts of your name shot through the air. Before the disappointment and onset of anxiety came shock. Was that Theo?

Rapid steps grew closer and closer until the dormitory door echoed a gentle knock as if the person behind it had slowed down just as they’d arrived.

“Um…who is it?” You asked awkwardly.

“Baby, it’s Theo,” a breathless voice came from behind the door. “Please open the door. Please. I need to talk to you.”

Baby? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? The shocked mantra rushed through your head as you shakily ripped your comforter away, ignoring your food and book.

You slowly pulled the door open, seeing a nervous Theo. His eyes were shot with blushed red, and his lips were swollen. Had he been crying?

“Theo, what—?”

“Please, can I come in?” he asked. His breath exited his body in short, rough pants. You nodded wide-eyed and moved out of the way. He pushed into the room, walking to the center of the room. His hands pushed through his hair repeatedly.

You pushed the door closed and pushed the lock. When you turned, he did the same, eyes on yours. His eyebrows were furrowed together, desperation painted on his face. His lips were parted, his eyes wanting.

“What is it—?”

“You have to tell me what I’ve done,” he begged. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean! Where have you been? You’ve been gone for days; the boys say you’re mad at me, that you might not come back—what the fuck are they talking about?” he demands, his eyes wide.

Your lips parted stupidly. No words came, no matter how hard you searched for them. The only thought that could process within your brain was how you were gonna kill Enzo and Mattheo for saying such stupid things to him. If anything, they were likely trying to get him to come and talk to you—which, it seems, has worked.

“Theo,” you cave, “it’s not that I wasn’t returning or mad at you…I was…” You could barely get the words out. He watched you with intent and pressure. It felt as though you were about to suffocate.

“What? Please tell me. What’s wrong?” He begged, his voice cracking. He moved toward you, his hands raising to touch you, then hesitating and dropping. A line of shimmering tears pool within his eyes, and the pure shock of seeing Theo about to cry had your lips parting again.

“I was…,” you groan, “…jealous.” You practically whispered the last part.

“Wait, what?” He gasped, his eyes widening even further.

“Theo, please don’t make me repeat it,” you sighed, pressing your hands to your face. “I’m embarrassed as is, I was jealous of those girls from last Saturday. I felt like every time I saw you, you were making another girl laugh, and they were all fucking perfect, of course, and I-I like you so much, Theo—”

His hands pressed to either side of your face, his fingers tight and warm. His eyes were widened, his breaths heavy.

“No more,” he breathed, “please, tell me to stop, and I will, but I have to…”

His lips pressed roughly to yours, his breath more like pants. He kissed you like you were air, his lips desperate and biting. The sound he pressed against your mouth was like one of relief. You gasped against him, finally realizing where you truly were and what was happening. Your fingers tightened in his hair, begging him closer to you.

“I n-need you,” he shivered against your lips, breath shuddering. You nodded fervently, barely having time to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands placed themselves around your thighs. He yanked you into the air and placed himself on your bed, settling you over his lap. The way he’d forced you to straddle him pressed his firming core against yours, sending a shock of excitement through your body.

His fingers began to quickly work the buttons of your shirt apart. When the fabric was finally split down the middle, he pressed his mouth to the top of your breasts, mouthing hot kisses against the soft flesh there. You sighed softly, letting your head fall back to allow him all the necessary room.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbles against you. Your fingers brush through his curled hair, gently scraping against his scalp every so often. The feeling of his lips against you made your heart race to the point of beating against his tongue.

Much to your dismay, he pulled away and shoved you back. You fell against the foot of the bed, completely helpless as he climbed over you. The domineering air he carried with him spread over your body, rendering it pliant beneath his searing touch.

His fingers gently cradled your hips as he worked his mouth over your stomach, dipping his tongue across every curve and dip, savoring the taste of sweat that slid down your skin. As his lips heated your skin, the shaking breaths he blew through his nose cooled it down and had you reeling. The ceiling above you was all but spinning.

He followed the curve of your body all the way up to your mouth, allowing his tongue to learn every inch of your abdomen. When his lips found yours again, the both of you were panting. The only thing standing between the two of you was your uniforms.

With a burst of confidence thanks to his session of worship, you gently cradled him in your hands, applying slight pressure against his most sensitive area. At the touch, he choked against you, sucking in a rough breath.

“Please,” he moaned. “Let me fuck you. I'll do anything.” He whispered your name. Over and over and over. Begging and begging.

“Anything?” You smirked, watching as his eyes seemed to well up with the same liquid. He nodded quickly.

“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” you whispered. And if it wasn’t like giving someone a million bucks.

“Thank you,” he whispered, a wave of relief washing across his face. The obvious desire written across his face and actions had you feeling wanted and gorgeous. The confidence built by the second.

His fingers quickly found the hem of your skirt and pushed it up over your thighs. At the sight of the thin bottoms you had on, a slow moan pushed itself between his lips. “Fuck,” he whispered.

His thumb came down to slowly swipe down the center of your core through your bottoms. You jolted at the soft action, not prepared for it. A smile spread over his face.

He gently pushed the fabric to the side, reveling in the feeling of the white lace against his fingertips. Once he’d revealed you, an even louder moan escaped from him. Only a moment passed before he pressed two fingers to his lips, coating them with a thick layer of saliva. He pulled them from his lips and began to lather you in himself.

Your lips parted in a breathy whine at the feeling. His fingers were gentle but direct, only brushing the most sensitive spots before slowly filling you up to the hilt of his fingers.

“Fuck, you just opened right up for me,” he groaned. His words sent shocks of lightning through your stomach. His skilled fingers stretched you out perfectly, preparing you for what was to come. The want in his eyes was growing darker and darker, imagining the next few minutes. It was all too much; you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Please, Theo, just fuck me,” you whined, “no more.”

“Yeah, baby? I’m gonna fuck you, don’t worry about that,” he whispered. “‘ve been dreaming about this cunt for months.” He makes quick work of his trousers, roughly ripping the clinking belt from its loops. He separates the button and pushes them down, revealing the dark briefs that framed every muscular curve.

He separated your legs and placed himself neatly between them. His hands reached down to agonizingly trace himself up and down your core. You moaned at the feeling, bucking your hips against his warmth. You attempted to salvage any of his warmth, begging for the feeling of him within you.

When he finally pushed himself into you, there was no resistance. The sounds that left your mouth chorused each other, echoing across the dorm room. He gave only a few seconds for you to adjust before building his pace rapidly. The pure length of him hit everything within you with ease. This time, there were tears welling up in your eyes as he abused every inch of you.

Sweet nothings left his mouth as he pushed roughly into you. His strong hips showed no weakness, and the hands that gripped you branded bruises against your flesh. Every second of this moment would visit you for years to come, promising you’d never find someone like Theo. He was the body made to fit perfectly against yours, with the intent to love and please and hold. And, fuck, if he wasn’t doing exactly that.

As he worked you closer and closer to the end, he reached down and pulled you quickly against his chest. Out of habit, your arms wrapped around his neck. Despite the change in position, he never let up on his speed or brutality. The only thing you could feel was his strong hands bouncing you up and down him. His teeth pressed into your neck, piercing the soft flesh there. And that was what did it for you.

You finished around him hard and heavy, your limbs becoming pathetically weak. As you came down from your high, you could barely keep your hold around him. His arms tightened around you, holding you up as he fucked himself into you, harder and harder, until he was coming, too. The feeling of his release pouring within you and every thrust he performed to push it back within you pulled you out for the final moment.

Stars danced around your head as he finally set you back down against the bed, his touch so gentle in comparison to what he had done prior. The contrast of his touch against you as he pushed the wet hair clinging to your forehead was blinding. You sighed contently as he lay next to you, eyes watching you closely.

“I’m sorry I was so emotional,” he whispered. “I thought I was going to lose you forever…before I’d even had the chance to tell you what kind of feelings I was harboring.”

“What kind of feelings?” you whispered back, turning over to face him.

“That I’m completely in love with you and have been for a long time.” Your heart swelled at the confession. Quiet giggles spilled from your mouths at the realization of what he was saying.

“I’m in love with you too, Theo,” you laughed. “That’s why I was so jealous.”

“Because I’m so sexy?” he teased. You rolled your eyes and placed a playful smack on his arm.

The moments that followed were filled with quiet laughs and sweet kisses. And before either of you had noticed, you’d both drifted off against each other. Afternoon classes were a lost cause, as was the hope of meeting back up with Mattheo and Enzo for dinner, but neither of you minded.

*Tag List: @lilymurphy03 (if you want to be added to the tag list for any future works, please send me a dm or message in my inbox, thanks!)*

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mrsbarnesblog · 4 months

Text

for you

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: Mattheo gets into another fight with a new guy and when Professor McGonnagal surprisingly do not punishes your boyfriend for it, you discover what she really thinks about your relationships.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: established relationships, protective boyfriend Matty, fights, insults and creepy guys, language, mentions of blood, hints of sex at the end.

Author's note: idk, the summary kinda sucks, but I couldn't think of anything better. basically it's just me being McGonnagal's fan and a simp for Mattheo 😘

Mattheo was sitting with his friends on one of the benches outside the castle. He was partly listening to whatever Blaise was saying about the next Quidditch game, more thinking about you and about the fact that he almost didn’t see you during the day.

He was completely lost in his thoughts until he heard your name slip out of the new guy’s, Eddie's, mouth. He and another Ravenclaw student were sitting not far away, and Mattheo’s attention was immediately drawn to their conversation.

“Yeah, that girl Y/N, right? I tried to talk to her during the lecture but she acted like a total bitch.” The guy laughed, elbowing his housemate as if he said something funny. Mattheo’s fist tightened, and he tried to hear more to figure out whether they were talking about you or not.

“Wait, dude.” The other guy chuckled, almost in shock. “You mean that Y/N? Riddle’s girl? You tried to hit on her? Nah, you better drop that shit. It’s like serious between them and all, no one usually bothers her because Riddle goes crazy about it.”

“Don’t care, man. I’ll find a way to get to her. I know she’s gonna be a total freak in bed, I will find a way to fuck her.“

Mattheo just snapped, jumping out of his place in a matter of seconds. Before one of his friends or even Eddie realized what was going on, Mattheo had already dragged him to the floor, punching his face.

“Wanna repeat what the fuck you just said about her?” He hissed at the guy, making another hit into the jaw.

“I said that she looked fuckable.”

It turned into a total mess, with them fighting on the ground and other students staring like it was some kind of show. The crowd got bigger, but Mattheo did not care about it at all; he was too busy with the way his knuckles met that ugly face.

Only a few minutes later, Blaise, Theo, and Draco dragged Mattheo away, while a few Ravenclaw students restrained Eddie.

Mattheo was almost uncontrollable, puffing and trying to escape from the firm hands that were holding him in place.

You heard that your boyfriend got into another fight, but as Luna said, it was something bigger and that he was even more violent today.

You brushed through the crowd, immediately standing before Mattheo’s eyes to catch his attention. You placed both of your hands on his chest and quickly nodded to his friends to let him go. As soon as he became free, he tried to push forward, almost radiating anger. The fact that Eddie was proudly smiling behind your back did not help the situation.

“No. Mattheo, stop it. What’s going on?” You felt the way he was breathing, as if he had run a few miles, and it was mostly anger. His face had a few drops of blood; the brow and lip were cut, and you knew that you would have to clean them up later, but now you only wanted him to calm down and speak to you properly.

“Hey, baby. Remember me?” The voice behind your back made you turn your head around, only now seeing the guy your boyfriend was fighting with. It was a new student from another school who was annoying you during your class and almost got you two in detention. You wanted to slap him so badly for the way he was talking to you, but you knew that the best way to deal with such people was to ignore them. They were always thriving on any type of attention. He looked much worse than Mattheo. Already blossoming bruises under his eye, on the jaw, and blood running out of his nose, and when he gave you that nasty smile, you saw his red teeth too. "C'mon, that’s why you were ignoring me, huh? Voldemort’s son? You could find someone better to fuck.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You felt how Mattheo moved forward again, but you slightly pushed him back. You lifted one of them to his cheek, caressing it in slow circles.

“No, you’re not. He's not worth it, Matty. Hey, look at me, please.” You put a slight pressure on his face to distract him and make him set his eyes on you. You had seen him during the fights before, but this time it was different. The way Mattheo’s eyes were completely dark, slightly narrowed, and full of rage, his face expression was so cold and nothing like you got used to. For a moment, you understood why sometimes even his friends preferred not to step in.

Eddie pissed you off during the previous lesson, where he decided to sit with you, chat, and flirt. You tried to pay as little attention to him as possible, completely uninterested in the jerk with no manners and a big ego. He got to school just a few days ago but you already hated him with your whole heart.

Though you couldn’t let your boyfriend start the fight again. Eddie was clearly provoking him with that weirdly satisfied grin on his face and rude words, probably so later he could say that the Dark Lord’s son was trying to kill him.

Mattheo's eyes were ruining between your face and Eddie behind your back, as if he were trying to make a decision. Your fingers didn’t stop moving in slow motion on his jaw and you thought that you felt some tension leaving his body.

“I hate the way he was talking about you.” He said it roughly, trying to control his body and emotions. Yes, Mattheo’s eyes were full of anger, but there was something deeper. He was hurt.

“I know, Matty, I know.” You stepped a bit closer to distract your overprotective boyfriend. At that moment, you almost forgot that you were in front of everyone and all the students are going to gossip about your interaction for the next week. “He’s provoking you. He wants to make you the bad guy. Don’t let him do that, please. We should just leave, okay?” You almost whispered, not breaking eye contact.

“Yeah, Matty, listen to your little girlfriend if you don’t want to—”

“Mr. Carmichael!” The loud, stern voice of Professor McGonnagal interrupted whatever he wanted to say and everyone went quiet for a few seconds. “You are not allowed to speak in this tone inside our school. Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Riddle and Ms. Y/L/N, follow me to my office, and everyone else must go back to their classes.”

“But Professor, Y/N didn't do anything wrong!” Mattheo protested, on instinct, placing his hand on your back and stepping closer.

“I said all three of you should go to my office, Mr. Riddle. Now.” Without another word, she left. Mattheo cursed near you, blaming himself for getting you into trouble, but you gave him a reassuring smile and, interlacing your hands, led him to McGonnagal’s office.

As soon as you walked in, Mattheo stood, separating you and Eddie so he wouldn’t be able to talk or even look at you.

“Are any of you willing to tell me what exactly happened there?” McConnagal sat in her chair, observing all of you. You stayed in front of her in silence.

“I punched him because he was saying inappropriate things about Y/N, Professor.” Mattheo briefly looked at you and you slightly squeezed his hand in yours in return. You saw how McGonnagal looked at your hands but you did not pull away, willing to show your boyfriend that you weren’t mad or blaming him.

“Is that so?” She looked at you.

“I wasn’t there when the fight started, but Eddie was bothering me earlier during the lessons. He made a few comments about me, even though I asked him to leave me alone, so I assume that it might’ve been the reason for Mattheo to do it.”

“Liar.”

“Mr. Carmichael, you are not in the position to talk back right now. That is quite impressive that you were able to get into the fight without even being here for weak. You are getting a detention, plus you’ll help Professor Snape after tomorrow's lesson. He’ll be happy to deal with you, I’m sure. Also, 20 points from Ravenclaw.” McGonnagal ignored his dramatic groan, now looking at Mattheo. Judging by the tension in his body, he was ready for the worst. “What about you, Mr. Riddle…” She briefly looked at you, and you didn’t really understand what it meant. “This time, I’m only giving you a warning: in Hogwarts, we do not support any kind of violence. You may be free.”

“That’s unfair! I’m covered in blood because of him. Are you really not going to punish the Dark Lord’s son? He could’ve killed me!”

“One more word and I’m taking away more points. You both are free, but you, Ms. Y/L/N, please stay for a few minutes.”

“But she— Professor, please don’t do this.” Mattheo stepped closer to her desk and you thought that he sounded as if he had suddenly panicked. It was strange.

“Hey, Mattheo, don’t worry about me. I promise, it’s okay.” You pulled him back, curiously looking at his weird behaviour. “Just wait for me outside, please. It won’t be long.” He stared at you for a moment, but then kissed you on the cheek and went out of the room.

“It’s truly magical to see the kind of love you two share, my dear.” McGonnagal softly laughed and you felt the heat on your cheeks. “Come sit here, please.” McGonnagal pointed to the chair in front of her desk.

“What did you want to talk about, professor?”

“Well, I know that this is not my place to interfere, but I wanted to say that you and Mr. Riddle share something really rare and special. And while I do not support his physical way of dealing with problems, I know that he deeply cares about you, darling, and this is how he expresses it.” It was weird to hear such words from someone else. You always respected Professor McGonnagal and the fact that she said that made your heart fill with even more love.

“Was it the reason why you didn’t punish him for the fight?” She nodded.

“Mattheo is a really smart boy with a kind heart and a good chance to have a really successful and wonderful life. The only thing that may ruin it is his family; I'm sure you understand that.” McGonnagal looked at you with a soft smile on her lips. “I see the way you affect him. How he became less distant during the lessons, started smiling more, and that you two are always connected no matter what. Everyone noticed it, even us professors. You may be the only bright thing in his life, my dear; that’s why I want you to ask to be there and not let him slip into the darkness. I just know that such love is so pure and strong and I hope it’ll live as long as the world exists.”

“Um– thank you, professor. I don’t even have enough words to express myself, but I appreciate your support. I’ll do everything in my power to save it.” You suddenly felt extremely emotional after this talk, and the only thing that you wanted to do right now was to be in your boyfriend’s arms.

“Now go. He's probably losing his mind because of you being there for so long.

Mattheo did wait for you near McGonnagal’s office and when you walked out of there with slightly glossy eyes and a soft smile, his facial expression changed into something sad and cold, which you did not quite understand. As usual, after his fights, you went into his dorm, but the walk there was weirdly quiet.

When you walked into his dorm and then to the bathroom, where you usually cleaned his wounds, he just followed you, hopping onto the counter near the sink and waiting while you prepared the first aid kit.

“Are you okay?” You stepped in between his legs, holding his face with your left hand and the wet towel in the other. You wiped the dried blood and then applied salve. “You’re acting kind of weird.”

He stayed silent for a few seconds, as if he were considering his words. “Are you going to break up with me? If so, then just say it right away and don’t torture me. I fucking hate it.” His eyes were locked on your necklace with the letter R, while your hand froze in the air in shock.

“Wh– Matty, what are you talking about?!” He finally looked up, meeting with your eyes, and you understood that he was trying to be casual and careless about it, but in fact he looked hurt.

“Isn’t it why McGonnagal asked you to stay? To say that I’m bad for you or something.”

“This is why you didn’t want to leave me there? I saw the way you looked at me… Oh, baby, no, I’m not going to break up with you.” You gently cupped his cheeks; now the tension had partly left Mattheo’s body and he finally put his hands on your waist. “In fact, McGonnagal told me quite the opposite.” Your fingers gently rubbed a bruise on his jaw while he looked at you in disbelief.

“What do you mean?” Mattheo slightly frowned. His hands unconsciously tightened around you, causing you to step even closer to him.

"Well, she said that you are really smart and that you have a lot of opportunities in the future if you’ll make the right decisions. She told me that you need someone like me to be here for you… and that what we have is really pure and magical.” You almost whispered the last part. The silence in the bathroom became almost too heavy, and the way Mattheo was looking made your stomach tighten with a weird feeling.

“I thought she hated me.”

You shook your head. “There’s no reason for her to hate you, Matty. You are not your family. You can live your life how you want to, without any burden or darkness, and I’ll be here for you. Always.” Mattheo’s hand reached for your face, slowly touching your skin. He looked almost mesmerized by you—those pretty brown eyes soft with so much love and feelings for you.

“Merlin, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He drew you closer, your foreheads touching in an intimate gesture. “I love you so fucking much. You’re my everything, Y/N. I know that it might be hard dealing with me, but I’m trying. For you. And I’m sorry for today. I just cannot let anyone disrespect or hurt you, my love.”

“That’s okay. I’m not mad. Just don’t want you to get hurt too. I love you, Matty. No matter what.” You smiled, closing your eyes, and finally properly kissed him. It was slow and delicate and it felt as if that moment was so significant for your relationship. You were always sure of your’s and Mattheo’s love, but right now it has become serious on another lever. And both of you could not be more happy.

Mattheo kissed you passionately, pulling you in close and sliding his tongue across your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth, burying your hands into the messy curls and scratching the scalp. “I hate to say it, but you actually look kind of hot when you’re fighting…”

“Fuck, baby. Let’s stay here for the rest of the day and skip the classes. I want you so fucking bad.” He groaned, lowering his mouth to your neck.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mattheo Riddle?” You pushed him away, slightly pulling his hair to enjoy those glossy dark eyes and swollen lips.

“What if I say yes?” Mattheo’s hand slipped under your skirt, teasingly stroking your thigh.

“Then I'll let you do it.”

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