#I swear I will finish The Owl House at some point

[popcornkwantum]

Me: watches cars (Pixar movie) for the first time in ages

Me: has never really been a fan of cars or racing sports at all

My autistic-ass brain: let's get obsessed with this random ass piece of media

I don't like racing sports, I barely know anything about racing sports, I don't want to get into racing sports. But for some reason did my brain decide to get really focused into the cars franchise and have this be almost the only thing to think about

The only reason I decided to rewatch this movie was because someone else talked very passionately about it in their PowerPoint presentation

Anyways, I'm gonna watch the 3rd movie tonight :D

#in the mean time I see a mutual spamming my dashboard with the Owl House season 3 stuff #I swear I will finish The Owl House at some point #and I won't push away tmnt #I'm too deep into tmnt for that #this feels like something that my brain will drop within a few weeks. I give it 2 months max #cars #cars pixar #pixar cars

[luasworkshop]

Sleepy prompts: 33 for Jinana-Evander, 19 for Aleis-Lua :3

Jinana-Evander is Here

Aleis has always been a night-owl. They fare best when they rise late in the morning and work until the wee hours. Lua is quite the opposite, despite their protestations otherwise. While they can be energized in the right situations working late or at an event, on a regular day, they wake early and head to bed not very long after it’s dark. Asra calls them ‘grandpa-kin’ at times to tweak their nose.

It’s a relatively quiet night, Aleis and Lua have the house to themselves, peacefully working on their own projects. Or relatively peacefully - there have been an increasing string of irritated huffs and quiet swearing from Lua’s desk as the hour gets later and later. Aleis doesn't pay them much mind, Lua doesn't make these noises to communicate – it’s just the nature of making things at times.

But as those noises start getting interspersed with yawns, Aleis offers a quiet “Bedtime, Lu?”

“Mmh, no.” They say, waving it off.

Aleis shrugs and lets it pass for now.

Another hour later and Lua is hunched close to their work, the swearing almost like breathing at this point. Aleis inquires again and gets a much more curt “No.”

“You sure?”

“I’m going to finish this.”

“You’re getting exhausted, Lu. I think you should go to bed.”

Lua, frazzled, glares wild-eyed.

“You DEFINITELY should go to bed.” Says Aleis, tone getting much less kind.

Lua sags a little, irritation shifting to a more pleading look. “Just… just a bit longer. It’s close.”

“I mean I won’t make you, but I do think you’re past the point of good decision making.”

Lua huffs but doesn't move from their desk, returning to the intricate clockwork in front of them. “Just… when I hit a good stopping point… please.”

“You don’t need my permission but alright.” Aleis is already braced for the inevitable meltdown from their partner. It’s just a question of when now.

Lua fares well a little longer, but when they go to get up to get a glass of water from the kitchen (following some sort of a small snap of something metal breaking and a particularly pointed hiss of frustration), they stumble out of their chair. In a minute there’s a small crash from the kitchen and a wailed “FUCK.”

“Are you ok?”

There is a sniffle around the edge of Lua’s voice, and the thumping of frustrated cleaning “I’m FINE.”

“Did you break a mug?”

“I’m so fucking clumsy!” They yell, tinged with the start of tears.

“You’re exhausted, Lua. Stop fighting it. You need sleep.”

There’s a second small crash – Lua throwing something hard as they clean. “It was the green one I liked too.” There’s genuine distress in their voice. It’s too late, and everything is far too much.

Aleis recognizes the tone – this is less of meltdown and more of a breakdown. “Lua, love, it’s fine. You’re fine. Let’s go to bed.”

Lua, finally, gives in, voice a bit broken from frustration tears “Let me clean this up first.”

“Of course Lu, you know we can magic it back together, yeah?”

“Yeah. But I’m not any good at that spell.”

“It’s fine, just leave it for morning. Asra or I can help.”

There’s no response from the kitchen.

“Lua?”

“Y...eah. Yes. Ok.”

Aleis gets up from their desk, joining Lua in the kitchen, hugging them from behind. They’re hunched over the sink, trying to calm down. They know they “shouldn't” get upset over such little things, but it’s harder when they’re tired. So much harder.

“Aw, it’s a clean break and only a couple pieces, it’ll fix ok.” Says Aleis, seeing the little pile of broken pieces next to the sink.

Lua nods, still hanging in frustration and increasing embarrassment.

Aleis kisses them on the cheek. “You’re so fucking stubborn.”

They do chuckle “Sorry, Aleis. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. It’s ok. Just for fucks sake go to bed.”

“I’m going, I’m going, let me get some water first.”

Aleis, reaching around them, turns on the tap, and gently levitates some water for them. For a storm mage, manipulation of water is easy, for Lua, despite their love of water, remembering to solve problems with magic never seems to come first. But they do accept this, drinking what’s offered before turning around to peck Aleis on the lips. “Bed, then.”

#Aleis #Lua #My Writing #Thank you again :3 #Looks like I'll get to these at about one a day #so the others will be soon #Yes Lua is slightly a dumbass and a pain in the ass #They don't mean harm #they're just not very in tune with themselves #sleepy prompt

[saiilorstars]

Ch. 10: Back at Diagon Alley

Fandom: Harry Potter (hogwarts year 1-7) Pairing: Draco x OFC

taglist: @ocappreciationtag​​​​ @arrthurpendragon​​​​ @anotherunreadblog​​​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​​​ @stareyedplanet​​​ @foxesandmagic​​​

Story Masterlist // Romina’s Masterlist

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

Romina finished tying a red cloth head band around her head. She accommodated its bow so that it was to the side of her head and not right on top — Arden made it very clear that made her look like an idiot. Her reflection showed a pink-faced girl ready to go out. An owl's hoot brought Romina from her mirror onto a snowy-white owl kept in a cage over her armoire.

"Sorry Hedwig," Romina sighed, truly apologetic, and walked back to the owl who impatiently pecked at the lock on the cage. "The deal was you could stay with me and I'd let you out only at night. That was what Harry said so Vernon—"

Hedwig recognized the name all too well and squawked.

"Yeah," Romina leaned forwards, "I don't quite like him either. But…" she tiptoed to her door, poking her head out into the empty hallway. She then closed the door and hurried to her window, opening it up. "...maybe one day freedom won't cost anything," she returned to Hedwig and promptly unlocked the cage. "But you have to be back by tomorrow morning."

Hedwig hooted, and Romina translated that as 'of course Rom'...she hoped. It took quite some convincing to get her aunt and uncle approval to take Hedwig in for the summer. Harry's uncle Vernon had made the stupidest rule to keep Hedwig locked in her cage night and day. Romina offered her place as an alternative so that Hedwig could get some decent time out, but she'd made the terrible decision to offer before asking her aunt and uncle for permission. She locked herself in for some good fashioned chores before they finally agreed.

Romina closed the curtains but left her window open for Hedwig in case he decided to come back early. But, just as she was closing them, she heard her neighbor - Arden - frantically calling from Romina's front garden.

"Rom! Romina! Come down! It's Harry's house!"

Squinting her eyes as best as possible, Romina tried seeing the Dursley's household but ultimately failed. The Dursley's were all the way down the street.

"Be there in a sec!" Romina instead called to Arden then hurriedly ran out of the room.

By the time the girl was out, Arden was already midway down the block. Arden, looked in a cross of terror and anger.

"What's happening?" Romina asked.

"Lilah was playing with Fabian and she said Vernon was putting bars around Harry's bedroom window!"

"Lilah tends to lie, Arden, in case you hadn't noticed," Romina playfully rolled her eyes. Arden's younger sister had a wild imagination and tended to come up with the oddest stories she would swear were true.

Arden grabbed Romina by the hand and pulled her into a sprint down the block. "There, see!" Arden pointed a pink-polished finger at the Dursley's house, specifically the window of Harry's new bedroom (which in reality had been Dudley's second room) that bore ugly grim bars like a true prison cell.

Romina's mouth fell open. "Oh they did not!"

"Ooh but they did," Arden said calmly. Both girls were used to the awful treatment Harry received, more Romina than Arden, but this was crossing the line. "Isn't today's Harry's twelfth birthday?" Arden asked after just staring.

"Yup," Romina crossed her arms. Her teeth gritted together. "And I am not letting this just pass. Nope."

Arden watched her whip away and walk back towards their homes. "What are you going to do?"

"Simple, I'm going to get the best troublemakers I know."

Because she was walking behind, Arden missed the great smirk on Romina's face.

~0~

The last thing Harry expected on his birthday was for the Weasley twins and Ron to come bust him out (literally) from his bedroom. It was a bonus watching uncle Vernon toppling out of the window he himself had barred...not to mention the fact the grand escape had been done with a flying car. Oh yes, the Weasleys had outdone themselves this time!

He found the most magnificent home ever with them - the Burrow. While it was kind of a mess inside, he felt absolutely warm and comfortable. They were even nice enough to take him to Diagon Alley with them so that they could all buy their newly required school supplies. If only they had helped him a little more with that Floo powder technique - or maybe he should have listened when Romina explained the ability to him long ago. He recalled something about it being installed in her home, but they rarely used it. She, however, knew exactly how to use it. He, unfortunately, still would need more practice. Maybe that way he could avoid the infamous Knockturn Alley next time. Least that was what he hoped considering what he heard from Hagrid who was the one to find Harry roaming there.

"Dentists are for your teeth's health—see mine?" Romina's voice was the first thing Harry heard when Hagrid and Hermione brought him into Gringotts. She was pointing at her white, straight teeth so that Mr. Weasley could see. She was trying to help him understand the concept of 'dentists' since Hermione's parents were a bit overwhelmed. Lyonel and Sage were giving her disapproving looks that she kept missing.

Mr. Weasley was delighted to learn.

"Oh, Harry. Thank goodness. We hoped you'd only gone one grate too far," Mrs. Weasley came hurrying to Harry just to make sure he was alright.

"Where did you come out?" Ron curiously wondered.

"Knockturn Alley," Hagrid answered for Harry, and rather somberly.

There were various reactions in the group, but it summed up to the kids being excited and jealous while the adults - save for Hermione's parents who knew nothing of Knockturn Alley - were rather horrified.

"Excellent!" Fred and George exclaimed.

Even Romina had turned her attention to them. "Knockturn Alley? Isn't that place cool?"

Both twins turned on her, and fast, with looks of betrayal. "You've been there!?" they both demanded.

"We've never been allowed in," Ron grumbled.

"And neither was she," Lyonel siad, putting a hand on her shoulder. There were traces of anger still in Lyonel's words as he explained more. "She wandered off last month while we were meant to be eating. We found her in Borgin's and Burkes."

Romina just smirked, apparently proud of herself. "It was so cool!"

"It was not!" Lyonel snapped and pushed her forwards to begin heading out.

"It really was," she whispered to the twins beside her who snickered.

After they had taken out their needed money from the bank, they started heading out.

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry began talking with Ron and Hermione in front, but of course it was an open conversation for all those with ears. "Malfoy and his father."

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" asked Mr. Weasley immediately.

"No, he was selling—" Harry barely said when the adult spoke over him.

"So he's worried. Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something…"

"You be careful, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley warned him as they stepped out of the bank. "That family's trouble. Don't go biting off more than you can chew."

Mr. Weasley was not pleased. "So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?"

While the two went back and forth, the other students went a bit farther ahead. They headed off to the bookstore because according to Hermione, there was someone they just needed to meet. Just outside the bookstore was a large banner over the second floor windows with 'Gilderoy Lockhart will be signing copies of his autobiography Magical Me today 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.' sprawled across it.

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione practically squealed with joy. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!"

Romina was squinting her eyes at the banner, a thoughtful expression taking over her facial features. "Auntie, isn't it that author you like?"

"Yes," Lyonel had answered, instead, with a light sigh.

Because Sage, along with Mrs. Weasley, had rushed inside the bookstore. When the kids began to take a closer look, they realized nearly all - if not all - the current customers inside the store were middle-aged and older women. Squeezing through them was a challenge enough, never mind getting in line with them.

"Uncle Lyonel, I can get my own books," Romina pushed her uncle to where her aunt was in line. "You just look after auntie. We don't want her to get lost." Lyonel grumbled but did indeed stay close to his wife. Romina then pushed her own way through the crowds of women and children. She finally lost her patience against a tall brunette woman who had been babbling to her friends about Lockhart. "MOVE IT!" The twelve year old pushed the woman to the side and stepped on her foot...by accident of course.

She eventually caught up with the rest of her friends and together scoured the store for their new books, which Hermione had been right to say included most of Lockhart's collection. When they returned to their respective guardians, the line had somewhat moved.

"Oh, there you are, good," Mrs. Weasley was in the middle of patting her hair down. "We'll be able to see him in a minute…"

"Auntie Sage, are you even breathing?" They heard Romina seriously asking her aunt.

"Romina Aline Oswell, you best keep your sarcastic mouth closed today," Sage almost snapped.

"No way—your middle name's Aline?" Fred repeated the only thing he and his brother had heard in that entire sentence.

"Can we call you Aline now?" George was oddly excited about the prospect.

"No!" Romina promptly said, warning them with her red painted nail at them.

The famous Gilderoy Lockhart - a tall, wavy blonde with striking blue eyes - came into view. He seemed to bask in the photography flashing at him. "Out of the way, there!" he pushed Ron a bit to the side to catch a picture.

"This is for the Daily Prophet," the photographer snapped.

"Big deal—" Ron gasped when the photographer stepped on his foot.

Gilderoy, however, had seen right past Ron to the famous twelve year old in the store. "It can't be Harry Potter?" His entire audience murmured about the boy. Even the photographer had turned back to see Harry.

Romina 'innocently' pushed Harry forwards. Beside her, the twins smirked. Lockhart took Harry and set him right beside him for a picture. Harry went red in the face when the fans began to applaud. The photo was snapped while Lockhart and Harry 'shook hands'.

"I'm so going to buy the Daily Prophet now," Romina couldn't help laugh. It was clear as day for her, the twins and Ron that Harry wanted to get as far away as possible from Lockhart.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart had secured Harry's spot with an arm around the boy's shoulders. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time! When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography — which I shall be happy to present to him now, free of charge—he had no idea that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The audience burst into applause except for a few students, not including Hermione of course. Harry didn't have time to process as he was being given all of Lockhart's book collection.

"Is that git really teaching Defence against the Dark Arts?" Fred wore a big scowl on his face.

"Don't let Mum hear you," Ron warned but their mother was well enthralled with the commotion of the fans.

"He's an author, and maybe a good one, but to teach such a delicate subject?" Romina herself was having doubts. "Why not give the position to professor Snape? He sure has an aptitude for it."

"Oh come now, Aline," George swung an arm around her shoulders, "Stop dreaming of the impossible."

Romina threw him a glare and promptly punched him in the arm. "I said don't call me that!" Ron, and even Hermione, snickered while Romina stalked up the staircase.

"Oh, dear Aline, forgive me!" George dramatically called and even went after her.

"GEORGE!"

"You can have these," Harry had no problems dumping all his 'new books' into Ginny's new cauldron. "I'll buy my own."

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" Draco's voice caused a great weariness to take over Harry's face. He was certainly not looking to argue today. Just for today. Draco had no problem continuing. "Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" Ginny exclaimed, actually talking for the first time near Harry that day.

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" Draco sneered, making both Ginny and Harry go red in the face.

Ron and Hermione had rushed over to see what was going on, and were deeply disappointed to find it was only their worst enemy.

"Oh, it's you," Ron looked to the side, muttering his words. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," Draco had been thinking of that one since Ron came into view. He smirked at the sight of the books Ron was carrying. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those."

Ron scowled and threw his books into Ginny's cauldron, apparently intending to fight that day but his plans were thwarted when a tall pale blonde appeared behind Draco. It was like seeing the future.

"Ah... Mr. Potter. I don't believe we've met," Lucius Malfoy greeted with what seemed a natural cold tone. Harry was bewildered when the older Malfoy extended a hand as if to shake with Harry's, only to then move some of Harry's hair off his forehead and reveal the famous lightning scar.

Harry stepped back, and hoped to God that never happened again.

"Forgive me, Mr. Potter. But your scar is legendary. As, of course, is the wizard who gave it to you."

Harry didn't think there was enough hatred towards the 'wizard' and frowned. "He was a murderer."

Still, Malfoy didn't look bothered. "Yes, a pity about your parents. Curious that you yourself should escape with a mere flesh wound. Curious, too, that you speak of him in the past. Surely, you don't think He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named is gone forever."

"His name is Voldemort," Harry fearlessly said, startling those around them.

"You must be very brave, Mr. Potter, to dare speak his name. Or foolish."

Hermione spoke up behind Harry, and rather bravely too. "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself." She then upheld the distasteful glare sent her way by the man.

"You must be Miss Granger. Draco's told me all about you... and your parents…" Malfoy looked past Hermione to her parents, two nervous-looking people curiously staring back. "Muggles, aren't you?"

"I swear to God, George, if you don't leave me alone I'm going to throw you down the stairs!" Romina had it with the one twin trailing after her who was still of course calling her by her middle name.

Lyonel had unfortunately heard the threat and came right over to scold her. "Romina!"

Romina and George froze then looked over the staircase rail below.

"Oswell?" Lucius repeated, and Lyonel, who was the only one facing him, caught a malicious glee in those grey eyes of the man. "Would you happen to be the Oswell my son has spoken about in the last year?"

Romina leaned forwards on the banister with a curious look at Draco. "I would hope so. If not, I'd be really offended that he chose to talk about another Oswell instead of me."

Draco smirked while the rest of the students seemed stunned by her words.

"Aline you are so grounded now," George whispered behind Romina. The girl gritted her teeth together and turned on him again, ready to actually follow through with her earlier threat had it not been for Fred's father coming over.

"Ron!" Mr. Weasley came over with Fred right behind him. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside! George, get down from there!"

"Romina, you too, and now!" Lyonel had spoken in an unusually cold voice. George followed his father's instructions but Romina, who was confused - for she had done nothing wrong as far as she knew - remained right where she was.

"Well, well, well—Arthur Weasley," Malfoy entertained himself with the man next. "Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. All those raids . . . I hope they're paying you overtime?" Ginny flinched when he took a tattered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration from her cauldron. "Obviously not. Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of a wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of a wizard, Malfoy," Mr. Weasley said back, curt.

"Clearly," Mr. Malfoy couldn't agree more. His grey eyes once again swept over Hermione's parents. "The company you keep, Weasley . . . and I thought your family could sink no lower—"

Poor Ginny saw her cauldron flying in the air after her father practically lunged for Malfoy. The tall blonde had landed against a bookshelf but caused some of the books to fall over people's heads.

"Get him, Dad!" one of the twins cheered on.

But most of them had to disperse as the two men went back and forth. More shelves were knocked and thus books fell by the dozens.

Romina had taken to watching the procession from her spot on the staircase. She was neither cheering nor disapproving but was rather interested in the outcome. Somebody would be in trouble for sure.

"Oswell, you surprise me, you're not even going to try and break them up?" Draco had magically found his way to the staircase unharmed by the flying books.

"I'm not the only one. Look, the twins are cheering," Romina pointed to the two gingers with fists in the air.

"Yeah, but those two are set in another sync or something," Draco stopped beside her. "They can't count."

"Alright, what about you?"

A smirk found its way across Draco's lips. "Don't need to. I know who'd win."

Romina playfully rolled her eyes. "Well, you haven't changed much."

"You have," Draco said within the next second, eyeing her with some muse. "Curious, in my letters to you about pureblood history, I don't remember writing anything about that..." He pointed to the headband with an outstanding bow on her head. "No pureblood girl would be caught dead with one of those."

Romina scoffed. "Okay, let's get one thing straight here. Just because I agreed to listen — or rather read — about this supposed important history, does not mean I will be adjusting to your weird customs."

"I can tell," Draco said bluntly, "Seriously, the bow — why?"

"It's new. Hermione gave me one for my birthday over the summer and I found out I like them. Is it really that bad?"

Giving her another look up, Draco replied with, "Nah, just...different."

There was a brief exchange of smiles before their attention was diverted to Hagrid, who'd made an appearance in time to separate Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy from each other. With a looming black eye, Mr. Malfoy tossed Ginny her Transfiguration book. "Here, girl — take your book — it's the best your father can give you."

"Go," Romina whispered to Draco, seeing his father was more than furious. The boy didn't think twice before running down the stairs. Not a minute later did Romina's aunt and uncle beckon her.

The lot of them left the bookstore with different reactions. The Weasleys were arguing over the fight while the Grangers were practically shaking from fear. The Oswells were murmuring to each other, both disapproving of what they saw. The families had to part at the Leaky Cauldron, for the Grangers had come by car.

"I'll make sure to send Hedwig over tonight," Romina said to Harry as they bid goodbye. "I'm so glad the Weasleys are letting you stay with them."

"I'm glad they came for me," Harry said back, and immediately saw Romina smiling just a tad too innocently. "Rom…?"

"Alrightie, off we go…" Fred came by to give Romina a hug.

"Yeah, and don't miss us too much, okay?" George promptly pulled his brother off the girl to hug her himself.

"I've been doing fine for a month now," Romina replied.

George drew back and sadly looked at Romina, his hands still on her arms. "Poor thing. She's struggling."

Romina rolled her eyes and swatted his hands off her. "I'm struggling alright...struggling to not punch you for making sure the entire second floor of the bookstore knew my middle name." With a winning grin, George was off with Fred. "Oh, and Harry," Romina called just as Harry began to leave with Ron, "Make sure to write to me about how fun it was driving in a flying car."

Harry's mouth fell open with shock.

"She is good," Ron said all giddly.

"What did you do!?" Hermione Granger didn't fail to demand when they were left alone.

"Nothing," Romina shrugged casually, looking at her aunt and uncle who were bidding goodbye to Hermione's parents.

"Romina…"

"Well, you didn't see it, Hermione! But Harry's uncle put prison bars - that's right, actual bars - around Harry's bedroom window! I had to do something!"

"So you just...gave those ginger idiots the idea to steal their flying car? Why do they even have a flying car!?"

Romina truly didn't know. "Point is, I got him out. I am good."

"Romina—"

"Gotta go, Hermione!" Romina gave the girl a quick hug. "Write to me if you want!"

"Come along now, Romina," Lyonel ushered his niece to the Floo Network fireside in the place. For some reason, neither he nor his wife seemed very pleased.

They were back home in no time, and Romina was quick to take another look at her school supplies right there in their living room. She knew Sage would sooner or later scold her for the mess of books she was making...although since most of them were from Lockhart's collection, Romina dared to think her aunt would let it slide. She did get a couple of premonitions of murmurs from her aunt and uncle, but brushed it off as she delved more into Lockhart's books. They weren't completely bad like the Weasley twins had made it sound - it didn't mean that they were amazing like Hermione had promised either. They were just interesting. The man had imagination, and plenty of experiences by the looks of it.

When dinner time came around, Romina came hopping down the steps from her bedroom. "I just sent Hedwig over to the Burrow," she informed her aunt and uncle as she took a seat at the table. "Though I had to write that I couldn't send over his cage. I don't think Hedwig will mind, if we're being honest."

She smiled and expected - or rather hoped - to hear one of her aunt and uncle say something along the lines of 'we'll bring it over'. She desperately wanted to be at the Burrow to have some fun. However, neither said such a thing.

"Are...you mad with me…?" Romina recognized the faces of disapproval, and a tad of concern. "Auntie, I'll clean up my books in the living room—"

"It's not the books, sweetheart," Sage said slowly, glancing at her husband silently.

Romina followed the gesture and frowned. "Then what? Was it me threatening to push George down the staircase?"

"No," Lyonel said, much sharper than his wife. "But we will not be making threats like those again, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Romina dutifully nodded her head. She hesitated talking for a minute but felt like dinner wouldn't be good until she knew what the actual problem was. "What did I do?" her question had come out more like a demand.

"You're not in trouble, sweetie," Sage began, but Romina judged from her aunt's face that it was somewhere along the trouble-line.

"Then why is uncle Lyonel looking like he's about to ground me?"

Sage shot her husband a look that said to calm down. Lyonel put his hands, which were fists, on either side of his plate over the table. "Romina we have never intruded on your social life but it's different now…"

"What?" Romina frowned.

"...before you only had muggle friends - save for Harry - and it was relatively calm…"

"I'm not understanding…" Romina looked to her grandmother for some help.

"...now at Hogwarts things are much more different. Hell, the wizarding community in its whole is far different than what you were used to so I can understand if during your first year you were confused and naive on who your friends were," Lyonel took a moment and paused. Sage seemed terribly nervous while Romina was getting more and more irritated. Like her mother, Romina had a temper when it came to confusing things. "You have to be careful who you become friends with, Romina," Lyonel eyed her seriously. "The Weasleys, for example, are fantastic people. They have no records of Dark Arts in their bloodlines."

"Of course not, they're good," Romina said softly.

"Exactly," Lyonel nodded. "Now the Grangers - they're muggles - and I think it's wonderful that you don't follow what the Oswells have done in the past."

"Disregard muggles as trash?"

"Exactly. Hermione is a bright student and I think she'll influence you right. Same with Arden King. I know you're also good with the Greengrass girl…"

"Daphne?"

"Yes. Family's relatively good. The Paes family has always been neutral on the case but now that Parkinson girl - you shouldn't spend time with her."

Romina debated about arguing for that one because with each day Pansy Parkinson grew more and more irritating. Still, she considered Pansy a somewhat friend - acquaintance even.

"The girl's parents are one of those blood elitist people we wouldn't want you to get to know. The same applies to the Malfoys. You've seen what the father thinks like. You should stay away from the son. Understand?"

There was a couple of minutes before Romina gave an answer. Many thoughts swirled through her mind, putting together her grandfather's words until she drew sense from them. And she was not happy about it.

"I can't believe you're doing this," she frowned. "I can accept your suggestions because everyone is open to one, but this isn't a suggestion, is it?"

Her grandmother looked down, but her grandfather seemed quite adamant in his stance.

"It is for the best, Romina. There were plenty of families - including the Malfoys - who were known to be on You-Know-Who's side."

"I didn't think you would ever do that, uncle Lyonel," Romina said, her voice completely free of anger. She didn't even have it in her eyes. She was just, honestly, surprised.

"Do what?" Lyonel asked.

Romina licked her lips and stood up from her chair. "When I got my letter to Hogwarts the first thing you told me was that it wasn't going to be easy for me - an Oswell - to enter the wizarding community after what my parents and our family did. But my naive self went in thinking I would own it like nothing. So many kids judged me because of what my parents did - they accused me of something as terrible as trying to hurt my best friend. I spent almost an entire year being accused of more things and...everyone was scared of me. I didn't have friends anymore, just Arden, Hermione, Angel, Daphne, and yeah...even Draco and Pansy."

"Is there a point to this?" Lyonel raised an eyebrow. Sage placed a hand over his, seeming a little more understanding.

"Yes, there most certainly is," Romina answered curtly. "You are asking me to do the very same thing that you warned me last year people would do to me. You want me to judge kids based on what their parents believe or have done."

Lyonel's face washed over with shock.

"If I ever do stop being friends with someone, it'll be because of what they have done, not because of their parents. I think you would understand that," Romina politely excused herself to her room and walked out the room.

A minute later, Lyonel saw his wife cracking a smile. "Why are you happy?" he asked.

"Because now I know that we raised her well," Sage's smile widened as she got up to serve them some drinks.

#ocappreciation #fd: harry potter #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco malfoy fics #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x oc #harry potter fics #harry potter imagines #hp #hp fics #hp imagines #oc: Romina Oswell #fic: legacies

[evan-witch]

Lilith Clawthorn x gn.reader (part 2)

Y/N pov.:

It started to get dark, so Ms. Clawthorn told me to go upstairs with her. Carefully she opened the door to what i was assuming to be her room. We entered and i looked around. There were books everywhere and plants of every kind. Suddenly I flinched at the sound of her closing the door behind me. “Oh, sorry. If you don’t feel comfortable i can ope-“ I shook my head. I don’t want anyone else to enter the room when im sleeping. I don’t trust the others yet. Especially the white haired one. I looked around the room again and saw a perfect place to sleep. About 30 inches under the ceiling there was a bar, probably supporting the walls, wide enough to sleep in. I looked at her and smiled. The bar was about 6 foot above the ground and almost directly above her bed. “You wanna sleep up there don’t you?”, she asked while looking at the ceiling with a concerned look on her face. I nodded eagerly. “Well how du you wanna get up and down? We don’t really have any ladders here.” I turned around and pointed at my back. “You back is very messed up. I don’t think you should transform in you state.” I pointed out the window. It was night and the stars were shining bright. “It doesn’t affect your back if you transform during the night?” I nodded. “Ok i understand. But how will you get down in the morning?” I pointed at the bed. “You wanna jump on my bed every morning? Really? What if I’m still asleep when you wake up?” I looked at my wrist as if i had a wristwatch. “ok this is just turning into charade at this point…. You…..wait? Till i wake up?” I nodded. “Ok take the bar. Just keep in mind, if you don’t want to talk that’s fine. But the others don’t even come near my room. I am here. You don’t have to be scared anymore. Not of me, not of them, not of anyone or anything.” I paused and looked to the ground. “Thank you”, i mumbled before letting my wings appear and jumping up on the bar. I nuzzled into my wings while she blew out the last candle. “Good night”, she mumbled when she got in bed. “Good night, Ms. Clawthorn.” I responded before slowly drifting away.

I woke up to a pair of plack eyes staring into my soul. “HOOT HOOT GOOD MORNING!” “HOLY SHIT! SWEET MOTHER OF TITAN-“

i screamed before falling backwards down and landing next to Ms. Clawthorn. I crawled behind her and shook her awake. “What…. Whats wrong?”, she mumbled still half asleep. “THE WORM WANTS TO KILL ME I SWEAR!” She sat up and blinked a few times before looking at the owl like worm. “Hooty…. Wtf…i love you but for fucks sake. It’s 7am.” “I just wanted to say good morning, yeeesh but it seems like some people are in a bad mood today. You no fun, lulu. Call me if you start appreciating a friend trying to say good morning,” he said before leaving dramatically through the window. “Alright, i correct my statement from yesterday. Nobody even goes near my room except hooty. He is… the house. I know it’s freaky but i swera he is harmless. Weird and kinda scary but mostly harmless.” I stared at her, still terrified. “I’ll talk to him later…” “thank you”, i said, still terrified. “Oh and you can call me Lilith. Calling me Ms. clawthorn makes me feel older than i already am.” She chuckled. Her smile was calming.

We ate breakfast, i started cleaning the house, ate lunch, finished cleaning the house, ate dinner, went outside to work in the garden and went inside as soon as the sun went down. It felt good to do things again. Tomorrow i would plant a few vegetables. Maybe even a few fruits. I continued to think about tomorrow while walking up the stairs. I knocked on Lilith’s door. She told me to come in and sit down on the bed. Id did as told. “I’m going to have to take a look at your wound again.” I took off my shirt and hugged my knees again. “It looks a lot better now. I’ll be done in no time don’t worry.” I smiled. Her soft hand stroked my back every once in a while. I looked at her face in the reflection of the window. She looked so concentrated it made me smile even more. The candle next to her threw funny shadows on her face. I stared at her, trying to memorise every detail in her face. Her eyes met mine as she looked up. She gave me a soft smile. “I’m done now. You should go to sleep early. It has been a long day.” I nodded, put on my shirt and made my way up. “Good night, Lilith.” “Good night, Y/N”, Lilith said. I could still feel the warmth of her hand on my back while i hugged myself with my wings till i fell asleep. I think this might feel like home someday.

Weeks passed and my wounds are almost completely healed. I often cook for the family, with the ingredients from the garden i had taken care off. I made myself a weighted blanked to help me with the nightmares that recently started nagging me. Lilith even teached me how to knit a plush owl. But tonight i wanted to ask Lilith something special. My wings were strong and could lift twice her weight, so there was something i wanted to try. When we sat on the bed and she was finished and i had to put on my shirt i asked her. “Lilith?” “Yes?“ “Do you want to fly with me tonight?” She chuckled. “Fly with you? I would love to, but Eda, Luz and King took my staff for one of their missions. They wont be home for at least another week.” “I know. But that’s not what i meant. Have you ever rode on a nylems back before?”, i asked carefully. Her cheeks turned red an she looked down. “I-i haven’t. Are you suggesting that-? O-oh I’m not sure. I’m not very light and you back isn’t f-fully healed.” This was the first time i heard her stutter. “My back is fine and don’t worry about your weight. My wings work with magic, not with strength. I promise I’ll be careful.” She looked at me with wide eyes. “But why? If you still want to repay me or anything i already told you don’t have to.” “No, it’s nothing like that. I want to do this. It’s something I’ve been wanting for…..a while now. So….so what do you say?” She gave me a warm smile. “How could i say no.” My face lightened up too. I immediately transformed and stretched my long wings. “I’m warming up a little before we start, I’m guessing you want to take some stuff with you? Now would be the right time to do so.” She jumped up and grabbed her bag before running through the whole house. I chuckled and went outside. I started stretching and flying a few rounds around the house. I landed as soon as i saw Lilith leaving the house. “Are you ready to fly like never before?”

#lilith clawthorne #x reader #the owl house #lilith #lilith clawthorne x reader #fluff

[astudyinsarcasm9]

Dead End: Paranormal Park - A review

Ok, first things first.

Dead End: Paranormal Park is an animated fantasy horror comedy streaming television series created by Hamish Steele for Netflix, which is based on the graphic novels series DeadEndia by Steele and Cartoon Hangover's Too Cool! Cartoons web short Dead End.

This is what Wikipedia says. I just wanted a quick summary of where Dead End came from and from who.

The show itself?

Brilliant.

Sure most shows find their footing in season 2 and I am sure this is what will happen here, but season 1 is still solid and stands on its own pretty nicely.

If you're a fan of Gravity Falls, Infinity Train, and Owl House you'll love this one. It even has some Steven Universe in it (but in a small, small dose).

Representation wise I think it's so on point. Barney, the protagonist, is a gay trans guy and I think that is refreshing to see. He is so lovable and sweet and you can't help but love him from Day 1.

In fact, all of the cast is super lovable. Norma, a Pakistani-American girl, is autistic and even though I am not autistic myself I know people who are so to me she seems like an accurate portrayal of what some people with autism go through.

Remember Autism has a spectrum and everyone's experience is different.

I say give this show a chance especially if you like murder mysteries with a dash of the supernatural. I hope for season 2 that they will lean more heavily towards the horror aspects because there is potential for it.

I don't want to give spoilers so I urge you to discover it for yourself. It has only 10 episodes each about 20 minutes long and it's all on Netflix.

Does it have things I didn't like?

Hmm, not really. I found myself entertained throughout. I did wish we got maybe 1-2 episodes for the park staff to get to know them better but overall it did not hurt the story because they were fleshed enough.

Time progression was a little fast for me. I think in episode 6 someone said a whole summer passed by and I was stunned because I did not realize that.

Anyway, I hope you'll give it a chance.

Meanwhile, Imma go finish Infinity Train cus I am too lazy I swear.

#dead end courtney #dead end norma #dead end pugsley #dead end paranormal park #dead end barney #dead end hox #deadendia

[smaradog]

time for an introduction

hello! im smaradog but you can call me smara or mar for short, i have a weird sense of humor that feels edgy but i dont do jokes that are at anyones expense, or say weird things, since its not really something thats part of me at all, making others feel bad and/or uncomfortable is against all i stand for, at the same time my humor can kinda be silly/catgirlesque for lack of better description?? (??? ihave no idea what im saying) and kinda fecalfunny style humor overall.

dni if youre a bigot or a terf or some stupid shit like that

anyways im a neurodivergent asexual trans girl (she/her, it/its fae/faer, sli/slime pronouns please!) who speaks spanish and stuff idunno!! (i am not from spain dont pile me on with them IHATE SPAIN!!!! /j)

so yeah i draw a lot of lesbians and whatever else comes to mind

[art tag!]

i WILL start talking about something im working on or something i like for WHOLE PARAGRAPHS so be WARNED!! and heres some insane things i do!

the insane things i do in question:

art (digital and traditional)

pixel art

sound design

3d modeling (learning the basics)

music (regular music and chiptunes, and whatever weird experimental thing i can make also it kinda sucks but shh)

storyboards

modding/romhacking games

kind of a jack of all trades really! so yeah thats basically it! have a list of me dumping like a million interests i have

music: the strokes, arctic monkeys, gorillaz, daft punk, indigo quest, red vox, muse, crx, albert hammond jr., royal blood, enjambre, bandalos chinos, comisario pantera, lemon demon, tally hall, the voidz, fish in a birdcage, nelward

chiptune (counting psg chips, fm chips, low quality samplers, etc.) [fade, tim follin, jeroen tel, squarewave, shoob2000, 4mat, rushjet1]

animated shows:

the owl house

amphibia

ena

one piece (at enies lobby arc rn)

yu yu hakusho

jojos bizarre adventure (i cant deny it even if i dont talk about it, stopped at part 5)

one punch man (kinda, dont remember a lot)

adventure time (havent kept up since grass sword episodes)

ok ko (literally dont remember what the last thing that happened was)

regular show (stopped keeping up at some point) showing interest in: gravity falls, infinity train, hunter x hunter and mob psycho

films:

literally any spiderman movie from anything 2002 - now (i know theres older obscure ones)

(cant think of anything else whoops)

games:

terraria

halo (anything pre 343 sorry)

castlevania series

bloodstained

undertale/deltarune

omori (kinda lost interest)

doom (classic series, havent played 2016 and eternal)

half life series

sonic series

mega man series (classic)

minecraft (kind of? i'd rather play beta 1.7.3, but especially a fan of better than adventure)

celeste (havent finished, one of the few insane people that didnt use assist mode at the hotel chapter)

umjammer lammy

parappa series

castle crashers & battleblock theater

serious sam series

splatoon series (havent played splatoon 3)

dont starve together (i dont play often and im not super familiar with the lore) night in the woods (looks nice but. didnt finish at ALL)

portal series (i 100%ed the first game)

streamers:

vargskelethor joel (probably on top along with jerma)

vinesauce vinny

jerma985

grayfruit (i watch sometimes)

simpleflips (i watch very rarely)

i also like a few webcomics but honestly i dont remember at the time of making somehow, you can ask me about one of them though! (its not homestuck i swear /gen)

i ALSO also have super weird interests over niche little 80s - 2000s technology and stuff

due to personal reasons, i have 3 things i dont wanna hear about, but im not gonna mention them on this post.

if you made it this far reading you are insane honestly but shoutouts to you

#introduction #introductory post #artists on tumblr #pixel art #modding #sound design #i have no idea if i should be tagging this with interests but whatever main ones GO #vinesauce #vargskelethor #jerma #jerma985 #terraria #halo #castlevania #doom #portal #the owl house #toh #amphibia #one piece #megaman #deltarune #the strokes #arctic monkeys #daft punk #lemon demon #red vox #spiderman #spider man #ena

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Fanfic Ask Game

Thanks for the tag @tails89 <3 tagging @princecharmingwinks @nutellarghh @greyhavenisback

What is your total posted word count on AO3? (Go to your Works, then click Statistics.) 

323589

How often do you write? 

Lately it’s been nearly every day, but there have been months-long stretches where I won’t write anything, either because life is being a pain in the ass or because I was too focused on a different kind of creative project like sewing or knitting. Honestly, the huntlow brainrot is a big contributing factor to this summer writing burst — I’ve outlined 20+ stories since May, and have posted 7 of them so far. It feels really good.

Do you have a routine for writing?

Mostly I just need a quiet, comfy, clean setting to write in. Chores done, no big to-do items to distract me or make me feel anxious. No loud noises or flashing lights. I usually prop up my laptop on some pillows on my bed, put on my headphones, and play some soft lyric-less music. Some of my favorite tracks to write to are from tabletop audio.

What’s your favorite tropes/pairing?

I absolutely live for mutual pining and oblivious idiots in love. The more blushing, slow burn sexual and romantic tension, oh and oh no he’s hot moments, and adorable confessions, the better. Also, happy endings. I need my ship to get together and be happy in fluffy domestic bliss by the end.

Pairings: 

My current fixation is Hunter/Willow from The Owl House. My longest-standing pairing I’ve been writing fic on and off for about a decade now is Sterek from Teen Wolf. My first big pairing I ever wrote for that will always hold a special place in my heart is Eleven/Amy from Doctor Who.

Do you have a favorite fic of yours?

Oh that’s difficult. See, I won’t write a fic if I don’t 100% adore the concept, but that being said, I definitely have ones I favor more than others. So I’ll do one two for each of the pairings I just listed.

My actual favorite of all my huntlow fics hasn’t been posted yet (it’s a multi-chapter college AU and it’s still in the works) but of the ones I’ve posted so far, I think A Guard By Any Other Name and Task Failed Successfully are my favorites.

My favorite Sterek fic is between Error 404: Brain Cell Not Found and Hearts Like Wildflowers (though this could change, because I’ve still got about 30 WIPs for them sitting in my queue waiting to be written and posted)

And then for Eleven/Amy, I think I’d have to say that my favorite was the most recent one, posted over three years ago: You Keep My Secrets Hope To Die (Promises Swear Them To The Sky) which had literally been sitting in my drafts since season 5 or 6 of Doctor Who. (So, you see, I do eventually get around to finishing all my WIPs, sometimes it just takes me a while lol)

Your fic with the most kudos?

Error 404: Brain Cell Not Found with 1283 kudos

Anything you don’t like about your writing?

Sometimes I get too in my head about making it sound perfect and spend far more time editing and re-editing the same few lines instead of actually making progress writing the damn thing. I also tend to overthink and feel the need to over-explain certain concepts, worried that if I leave something too vague or open-ended, it’ll get misinterpreted. Also, I have a tendency to get a little too flowery and pretentiously descriptive sometimes, I have a habit of writing stream of consciousness run-on sentences that look like they’re just one big paragraph, and I probably definitely over-use em-dashes lol

Now something you do like?

I’ve been told that I’m really good at capturing a character’s voice, which is a really lovely thing to hear consistently across different fandoms and ships because I pride myself on really getting to know the characters I’m writing for, to the point where I’d feel confident answering questions like “what is their favorite xyz, what would they do in this situation?” I’m also always so incredibly pleased every time I get a comment from someone telling me that my fic was so cute and/or funny that it made them laugh out loud in public or made them flail and screech. I love inciting that level of joy in people ☺️♥️

#fanfic ask game #writer tag game #tag game #huntlow #sterek

[dzpenumbra]

6/28/23

I don't even know where to start with today. I surprisingly slept decently. I don't know if I dreamt, but I slept at least 6 hours. I got up and immediately started setting up a business account on Stripe.

I was browsing an art subreddit trying to figure out how to like... process payments as a freelance business. I honest have only done a handful over the years, because my pushover ass just gave away thousands of dollars worth of art for free. The few that I did for money, I used PayPal. But that was... almost 10 years ago, and I was reading that it's not the best for this kinda stuff.

I got super overwhelmed just trying to read stuff about business. It's like nails on a chalkboard for me, I swear. I think it's an emotional wall thing, like a trauma thing. I don't know. I just get super overwhelmed and have a really hard time focusing, and have to re-read things like 10 times and I just get super frustrated. But I got through it. It took like 2 hours, but I decided to put my PayPal account aside for now, keep that personal... and set up a business Stripe account, dedicated to my art stuff. And it's done, it's set up. I started going through the process of sending an invoice, it was surprisingly pretty simple, and really customizable, and looked really snazzy once I put a color scheme and logo in there.

I did yoga, which was very relaxing. Very low-key, very chill, and very positive. I'm very glad I chose that video today. I watched a video before it about orange cats (my cat was orange) and it made me really miss having pets, and I got a really strong sudden urge to go out and adopt two older cats. A few things stopped me. 1). I have a plant in the house that is toxic to animals, the Night-Blooming Jasmine, and I really don't want to worry about it. 2). I don't want to worry about coming home to a destroyed house if I ever decide to go out. 3). I don't have a vehicle or a ride, so if there is a vet emergency, I'm really fucked. 4). I'm just not really there yet, emotionally. But yeah, it was nice to just reflect fondly on my time with my cat. And chill yoga after was a nice transition. Then a pretty gentle workout. It was a pretty good start to the day.

I was nice and calm, I had the security of having payment processing ready and available, taxes should be processed through it too. The exercise was pretty calming too, so I was really in a pretty good place. Then I messaged the guy who commissioned a tattoo design. I reached out to get info from him - what medium he wanted (either hand-drawn or digital), to get his email for the invoice, and to let him know I planned on charging half upfront, half when I finished. That's how I always planned to. I sent him that on Instagram, which he said was his preferred contact point, and started drafting something.

I "drafted"... for 3 hours. I had a pretty good idea of what he wanted, he gave me a reference photo and said he wanted a specific pose - the owl swooping to the side with its claws out, hunting - but with the head turned so it was facing the viewer. I got the foundation started, and it started to take form and it was really looking good. It's really hard to do believable realism that is altered from reference pictures. At least for me. My way of doing realism has been just basically... replicating what I'm looking at. Like... do I have an example on hand? ...

There, that's a portrait I drew --- well, duh... --- but I just... pulled up a reference picture and pulled it up on my laptop and had my piece of... I think this was on Bristol paper, and just started drawing. And there it is. And it's not an exact copy, of course. But that's just... how I've always drawn a lot of my work. So... say you wanted to do this piece... but... without a beard. Right? That... honestly wouldn't be too hard, but it would take some really educated guesses. Or other reference pictures showing what his jaw structure looks like, what kind of chin he has, whether he has jowls (I doubt it, but you never know), whether he has a pronounced philtrum or not, etc. Again, you can kinda eyeball this and get an idea, but... you'd have to be psychic to get it 100% accurate. You're literally working without information.

Now... imagine drawing this portrait... but with the head rotated 1/4 to the right so his face is looking over your right shoulder... with no reference material on other angles. It's doable, and the more I think about it the more I want to challenge myself to try it sometime... I'm actually getting really excited about that, now that I think about it. But like... yeah, you need to have a pretty comprehensive understanding of anatomy and lighting to be able to do that accurately, believably. And, again, you're working with information that is not provided, so you have to fill in blanks. How wide is his ear? How long is his skull? What shape is it? Is it more oblong or round? How far does his nose extend off his face... Is the tip of the nose pointed, rounded or flat? How sunken in are the eyes? How much do the jaw or lips protrude? Is there over or underbite? How pronounced is the brow? A lot of the depth information you can kinda... deduce from the darkness of the shadows, but some features can get a little hard to predict. And sometimes even tiny little differences can make the face look completely different.

This is really advanced shit, and not stuff I have spent too much time on. Again, I have spent most of my time doing either... weird surreal stuff from my imagination, abstract work, cartoonish stylized stuff or or realism direct from reference. And this dude didn't have a reference. Well... he kinda did, but he wanted the head turned 90 degrees.

So I pulled up Krita and did three separate sketches. I got one really close to where I wanted it, just drawing the bird he liked the pose of. Then I went and turned the head to look at the viewer. And, in the sketch, it looked... well, it looked believable. It looked organic. I don't think it would ever happen, so it didn't entirely look natural to me. I mean, you'd have to really surprise an owl to get its attention mid-swoop as it's calculatingly slowing its descent towards its dinner. But here's where I got with it. When you turn your head to the right and look over your right shoulder... do it now so you can sorta feel what I'm talking about. Pay attention to your left shoulder. It takes some pretty strong deliberate effort to not move your left shoulder when you do that. Now... owls are notorious for their ability to independently rotate their necks, I get that. But I don't really know enough about bird anatomy to understand what's going on under the feathers there. So... that's the problem I started to run into.

First - it felt like the left wing would move with that head movement, because it wasn't so much of a swivel of the head, it was more of a lean, like craning the neck, kinda. And the movement of the left wing would change... pretty much everything. I would have to figure out the angle of descent, where the wing bones were hiding behind the torso, where the shoulder socket is, find those new locations and change the entire wing rotation to match the right wing's angle. That's like... pretty basic aerodynamics, like... what happens when you go to fly a kite, but one side isn't perfectly flat, it's kinda bent back a little... Yep, it just goes spiraling. And most people don't notice this kinda stuff in art specifically... but I think a lot of people can sorta feel something a little uncanny about it when its off. Like... they can tell it's a drawing. On the flip side, when those details are accurate, the "wow factor" is much more significant.

I struggled with this for about an hour. Adjusting the wing angle, tweaking, all that. In hindsight... I probably shouldn't have started working on the piece at all, even a sketch, without payment first. But yeah, I got on a roll so I went with it. And eventually I found a comfy place to settle the wing. And that was actually a bit easier than the next part. So... rotate your head to the right again. This time, pay attention to what happens to the skin on the right side of your neck. It kinda bunches up, kinda creases. Here's the fun thing with fur and feathers... you don't technically have to know what's going on with the skin under the fur/feathers, but again, it helps with believability... But either way, when the head rotates, it's at very least going to smoosh up feathers and create some dark shadow creases. So I had to figure out where those creases would form when bunching up against the shoulder, and figure out how this ripple would alter the feather patterns. And I got that pretty decent.

Then I started to just... add in "color". Translating the color to black and white and blocking the color by area, with intention of adding detail later.

Given how much I got done in such a short time, I was worried I kinda overcharged the guy. I went off how much work I did on the last owl - a realistic Barred Owl... the one in my profile picture. It took over 40 hours total, it was a full page so... I think 11"x14"? A bit smaller than that to add a margin in. Full color, lots of detail, that size... This guy wanted an owl with less detail, black and white, and 5"x7". So... I estimated that would take about 15 hours. I think it was a fair estimate. But I'm not sure how much of that time was spent blending colors, you know? I don't know. I was a little worried I overquoted considering how much I got done in such a short time digitally today.

Welp, he messaged me back at 11PM. Right when I was getting ready to make some dinner and fire up my stream. He backed out of the commission. He said his tattooist offered to draw and tattoo the whole thing for what would end up being... about $200 less for him than having me draw it and her ink it. Again... I probably shouldn't have started without getting paid first. I know. But honestly, it was good practice. And I enjoyed it. And I tried to be really supportive of him and tell him I understand and tattoos are a super important decision and I'm glad to have been part of the progress, even if it was just a creative spark that helped him find what he wanted on his body permanently. And I do mean that. Even though it fucks me over, even though I could really use some idea of what to do with my life. Even though this gave me some purpose and direction... I do mean it. I don't want to fuck someone over just to get money. But I can't allow myself to bring that price down to fractions, that's just... naw. Like... I would have to do like $100 to meet what the tattooist was proposing and stay in the game, and I had already done like... $75 worth of work on this? So yeah... I don't think it was gonna happen.

Again, I just really wish I had some coaching, or at least a second pair of eyes on this shit. I almost called my mom even, I'm really glad I didn't. It ran through my head while making dinner to maybe call my old advisor at some point, the then head of the Art department at my old college. I think she still works there. But like... I haven't talked to her in... since 2010? Good lord. Oh wow. Time fucking flies. And... I don't know if she really liked me... I was always a very free spirit and I made a lot of weird shit. I don't think she really... got what I was doing with a lot of my stuff. Hell, I'm not sure I even get what I was doing back then either. I was all over the place. But hey, some things never change, yeah? XD

I just feel... I feel like I need a mentor. And I get stuck in this shitty place where I'm like... Okay, half of me is going "just swallow your pride and pretend you're in college getting on stage to do a gig... and just go to a tattoo shop and check out their art and talk shop and see if they need any help working the counter or something." That said... I'm going to be 37 in a few months, I don't have any on-paper work history since... probably 2015? I have pretty debilitating mental health shit I'm battling on a regular basis, I'm writing this at 5:30 AM so I'm fully nocturnal, I have no references. Not even friends or family as references. I mean, what I do have going for me? I don't have a criminal record, I am a hard worker, a very fast learner, I go above and beyond and I have an extensive art history, and tattooing experience. But here's an even bigger catch than the life stuff I mentioned above... I'm not even sure I want to be a tattooist. I've entertained the idea just so I can... be around creative people, and get paid. Like... I might be the only actual artist with an art degree and 15 years of experience who legit only wants to work the counter. I'm not sure I could really take the permanence and pressure of inking skin anymore. And my hand is much shakier than it used to be.

But lets be honest here. I'm coming from almost 3.5 years of extreme isolation. I haven't seen a human face in... 2 days? And that was quickly passing people in the hallway. I leave my apartment maybe once a week. And I'm going to be... working a counter at a tattoo shop, around people all day every day? Do we see this going well?

I don't know. I'm just really overwhelmed, and balls-deep in impostor syndrome. And I've been having a pretty constant existential crisis for the past 24 hours. I'm just kinda biding time until therapy. Which... get this... is going to be my last therapy session for a month. Then it's total isolation. And I don't have a plan. So... I don't know, man. I just don't know what to do. I really don't.

The worst part? I got really inspired. XD I got a really cool idea. I've had this idea for a long time now of... making an animated piece that's similar to my abstract bubble-like designs, but simulating mitosis. I think I've described it here before. And I'd still like to play around with that sometime, maybe. I spun off of this with the thought... "if I want to be like... a gallery artist... like a fine artist... if that's my thing... then what would I submit to a gallery?" And I definitely have a theme going of this abstract organic stuff. I have the necklace and the mala, I have the skull, I have the digital piece I'm working on... I even have the Be Here Now sign, but that's more for me... but the big thing that caught me was the series I was doing of ink drawings. That could easily be a series in a gallery. BUT... (there's always a but, isn't there...) they are all very deliberately drawn with the holes in the paper in mind, meaning... they are intended to be kept in the sketchbook they are in, and viewed as a series that is flipped through. And that's just not gonna fly in a gallery. I can't have strangers flipping through my sketchbook with their sweaty oily sausage fingers. It's just not gonna happen. So... I don't know, I could crop them. It's possible. But the second part to that thought was... they were intended to be viewed as a series and the series is supposed to be the entire sketchbook. I did 10 drawings, they took about 2 days average apiece. The sketchbook is over 45 pages long. It's doable, but it's gonna take time. The third part of the thought was... ooo, I could combine the mitosis idea with this "flipbook" series idea... and just do this pattern as one big bubble... then 2 on the next page... then 4... then 8... I just.. I don't know if that's too... boring. I feel like the transformation and movement of it is really the most engaging part. Not just seeing the effect of growth, but seeing the growth itself.

But yeah, that's kinda where I'm at right now. Kinda floundering and not sure what to do with myself. Very deep in impostor syndrome. Feeling like a complete waste of space that just sits around and makes crappy art that no one cares about, that has no rhyme or reason. On the flip side, though... I have an established business account and a way to process direct payments for anything now... art lessons, music lessons, tarot readings, jewelry. If I want to do the farmer's market shit, I can just order a card reader, they're like... $60 I think?

So... at the end of the night, I decided to work on some beads. At very least I have that.

I'm gonna chill on this work talk because it's really fucking with the existential dread shit. And I've been going for hours now. Tarot and then bed.

Past - Ten of Swords, inverted (The death of a way of thinking, or a state of mind.  An ending that has been forced upon you causing mental anguish; illness, betrayal. ) Present - Knight of Wands, inverted (Creative potential, vivacious, not afraid of a challenge, he is naturally disarming and uses it to his advantage.  Passionate, complete dedication to anything enrapturing.  When in extreme, he can be a daredevil; reckless and potentially dangerous.) Future - Page of Cups (Pure emotion. Innocence, wearing one’s heart on their sleeve. Channeling one’s inner child.)

It's baaaack. This one starts with inverted Ten of Swords. This being... the death of a way of thinking. A mindset, paradigm or world view. And the inversion here kinda feels like... stuck.

This is connected to inverted Knight of Wands. I'm still shaky on my face cards, but Knight of Wands is the bearer of the flame. The beginning of the creative fire. He's energetic and creative and enthusiastic. Inverted here I would read as either... difficulty connecting with this rogue-like personality... or being stuck in some of the more unsavory aspects when that personality is out of balance. Like being a daredevil or taking unnecessary risks. (I dunno about that one... XD)

The conclusion is Page of Cups. Page of Cups is the young, eager, brave, childlike navigator. He guides the ship through stormy seas by following the guidance of his heart.

Hey, I just did a reading without even opening my reference doc. How cool is that? :) Time to fill in definitions and connect some dots here.

Alright, Ten of Swords I did recently. In this chain of events, I guess... honestly, I'm not sure. I want to say clinging to a way of thinking that... is past its prime, that has elapsed. That I should be moving on and I'm just sorta laying on the ground suffering. I'm just not sure which state of mind it's referring to. I've changed so much. This is leading me to what could be a really big creative breakthrough... but something is off with it. Something is out of whack, unbalanced. In my notes, I likened Knight of Wands to a moment when I called a friend over to watch me snowskate because I had a gut feeling I was getting close with my first varial flip and I wanted someone to witness it. And I had this... suave confidence to me, and I was just like... "watch this"... and I went and did it first try, probably the smoothest varial flip I've ever done. Because I was confident and I full committed to it. That's the vibe I get from Knight of Wands, full-commit with creative endeavors. Which - just like with skating - is legendary when it lands, but if it's unbalanced... it can be a bit dangerous. That's why I get a little... off-put when I see inverted Knight of Wands. It makes me think of when I went kayaking in a river with a friend the day after a hurricane, and the river was super flooded and all whitewater, and we both almost died. It was flat-out stupid and I still get fucking haunting chills just thinking about it. Ugh... horrible feeling. Like "I am so fucking lucky, I shouldn't be alive." So... I get a little spooked when I see inverted Knight of Wands, but that's just how I'm reading it and it might not be as severe as I fear. Maybe it's just that my confidence and cavalier nature with setting my art prices lost me the commission. Idk. Either way, this leads to a potential future of... Learning from this and... connecting with my emotions more. Purely. Innocently. Following my heart and allowing myself to be a bit clumsy, be a bit naïve, but all passion, all play, all from the heart.

I guess I just don't really know what my heart wants.

My heart is lonely. That feels like a given. It wants friends, it wants to play, it wants to joke and laugh and goof off. I just don't know what it wants... career-wise. And that's been the big struggle the past two days. And god fucking damn do I need a mentor to just talk to about this. Someone who can be patient with the perpetual push-and-pull tug-of-war in my head, and help me find a place in life where my passions and drive and really fucking abnormal lifestyle can flourish rather than be a hinderance. There's gotta be a way.

Instead of linger on that, I'm going to look at the placeholder card. A new one!!! Six of Wands, inverted. Ha! Six of Wands is... praise and recognition. Inverted, blocked or dysfunctional, not working, out of balance, presenting itself but I can't connect with it functionally. Yep. That's a tough one. As I regularly read Stream Summaries that average less than 1 viewer.

But looking on the bright side? A guy approached me after a year and a half, he remembered my owl drawing streams from 2021. He specifically commissioned me based on my skill, when I had like... 1 viewer, if that. He said it was specifically because he wanted to support me as an artist. That meant a lot to me, and still does. Even though he can't afford this, regardless of whether I made the price too high, he still appreciates my art. He still thinks my work is so good that he wants it inked into his dermis for the rest of his life. I can't let that sentiment slip away, I can't let shit block me from engaging with that praise. Because that's a really big compliment.

I have no idea where things are going to go from here. But for right now, I'm just going to take it one day at a time.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

[free-pool-trash]

x of swords - george weasley

part one of three

Summary: Growing up as Harry’s neighbor, you always believed that you were completely regular. In an attempt to feel closer to Harry (your best friend) you begin to dabble in the art of divination and, in the process, you uncover magic that you didn’t know you had. (i hate doing summaries this does not sum it up but you get the jist)

Relationships: George Weasley x Reader, platonic!Harry Potter x Reader, platonic!OC x Reader, platonic!Sirius Black x Reader, platonic!Remus Lupin x Reader, platonic!Fred Weasley x Reader, platonic!Nymphadora Tonks x Reader, platonic!Molly Weasley x Reader, platonic!Hermoine Granger x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, fluff, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of death (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 22.9k 

so here it is 😏 i was going to wait until i was completely finished with this to post it but i didn’t wanna rush it and oh my god it’s already so long  😫 I’m moving to Edinburgh in 2 weeks so i won’t be able to write as i have so much to pack so i hope this keeps some of you happy for a while <3 obviously i put a lot of effort into this and spent a lot of time on it so i really hope yall like it and i will personally kiss everyone who comments. likes or reblogs <3

mastelist

Life on Privet Drive was definitely something- something being incredibly boring. Nothing even remotely exciting happened on the street and the company was, to put it simply, miserable.

You’d lived in 5 Privet Drive since birth which, unfortunately for you, meant that your family are extremely close with the Dursleys who live next door. The Dursleys are a family of bigoted, pig-headed bullies. Made up of Petunia, Vernon, Dudley and, in your opinion the only tolerable one, Harry.

From the age of five, Harry had been your only friend on the street and vice versa. Initially, the both of you had bonded over your dislike of Dudley but as the years rolled on Harry and yourself had become virtually inseparable.

It was certainly strange- how close your parents were with Petunia and Vernon. Your mother and father are actually quite lovely, they are the complete opposite of the Dursleys, they’re open minded, kind and extremely friendly. But, you supposed, their friendliness didn’t discriminate from person to person, even if said person forced their orphaned nephew to sleep in the cupboard underneath the stairs.

There was no denying that Harry had been miserable with the Dursleys, who were unfortunately his only remaining family and you supposed you should’ve been happy when your best friend finally got away from them after his 11th birthday.

You’d missed him for the entire school year and you only got a chance to ask where he’d actually gone off to when he’d arrived home for the summer. (You didn’t believe the story Vernon had spun about Harry attending a boarding school for juvenile trouble makers).

“It’s incredible, (Y/n), honestly! I wish you could be there too.” He’d told you when you finally saw him again, after he’d finished his first year in his mysterious boarding school.

“That’s great, Haz, but where exactly is it?” You wondered and Harry only gave you his signature grin.

“Scotland.”

With a heavy sigh you let the subject go, he was clearly happy wherever he was going to school so it didn’t matter where or what it was. As long as he was happy.

By the time his 12th birthday rolled around you’d found the perfect gift for him. You’d made your parents buy you a polaroid camera for him to take away to school, he’d told you so many amazing stories about his school, you wanted to see some of it for yourself so you figured a camera would be the best course of action.

The morning of his birthday, Harry was woken up by the sound of pebbles tapping against his barred up window. The boy looked out to see you waving at him, an excited smile on your face and a neatly wrapped present in your other hand. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face as you beckoned him down with your hand. It was barely dawn but you knew better than to give a present for Harry to either his aunt or uncle because they’d only give it to Dudley, so it was best to get it to him before the rest of his supposed family woke up.

Hogwarts was amazing and Harry was over the moon to have discovered he was a wizard and make so many new friends, but he had missed you- his only friend in the muggle world. Your birthday was only a few weeks after his and he hoped that maybe you’d get a hogwarts letter of your own, obviously that hadn’t happened. Nonetheless he was happy to see you in the summer, he couldn’t shake the thought that Ron and Hermione would have loved to meet you though.

Slowly and quietly, Harry snook down the stairs and out the front door to meet you.

“Happy birthday, Haz!” You whisper-shouted excitedly, pulling the green-eyed boy into your house so he wouldn’t get caught outside when he wasn’t even allowed out of his bedroom.

Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, “I hope you know that you’re still the only person who calls me that.”

“Good,” you said happily, closing the front door behind you. “Anyway, I got you something that you can bring away to school with you!” He rose an eyebrow at you as you pushed the carefully wrapped box into his hands, “Open it,” you instructed. And so he did.

It was very possibly the most expensive gift he’d ever gotten, you (or your parents) usually got Harry presents that couldn’t be stolen by Dudley. For example, your mother had taken to buying Harry his own clothes, seeing as your best friend was a lot taller and thinner than his horrid cousin.

You, on the other hand, would usually make him gifts with sentimental value, something Dudley had absolutely zero interest in. The camera though, you knew would be safe as Harry would be leaving for school again soon enough.

Harry stared dumbfounded at the cardboard box that held the rather large polaroid camera, judging by the image on the box it was a good quality thing, probably expensive. “This is… really nice, (Y/n).”

A bright smile found your lips as you rushed into an animated explanation about why you’d picked a camera as his birthday present this year.

“So you can take lots of pictures of you and your new friends in your new fancy private school and when you come back here you can show them to me!” Harry chuckled and nodded his head, hoping he’d be able to find time to take pictures like you wanted.

“I’ll take pictures of everything. Promise.” He told you, holding out his pinky with a cheeky grin. You linked your pinky with his and nodded gratefully.

“We should christen it,” Harry announced, tearing into the box and he quickly set the camera up before he pointed it at you expectantly. “Well, come on then. I’ve told my school friends all about you, they’re going to want to see what you look like too. So, smile-“ with a disbelieving laugh, you crossed your legs underneath yourself from where you were sitting on the floor across from Harry, and tucked your hair behind your ears before you looked directly at the lense of the camera and gave it the brightest smile you could muster. The camera flashed and the picture slowly revealed itself, it seemed to be good enough to satisfy Harry’s twelve year old self.

He’d shown the polaroid to Hermione first, the bushy haired girl had smiled softly as she held the polaroid gently, “She seems lovely, Harry.”

Harry had nodded his head in agreement, you were lovely. He just hoped Dudley wasn’t terrorising you too much while he was away. His cousin always had somewhat of a crush on you, which Harry knew was ridiculous considering you all but loathed Dudley.

True to his word, Harry had taken plenty of pictures, many were of (non-magic) areas of the Hogwarts campus, many were of his friends; Ron, Hermione, Fred and George Weasley (who had an absolute field day with the muggle contraption), one or two of Hagrid and he even managed to capture a nice one of the owlery. Although you were one of his best friends, sometimes thinking about you while he was in Hogwarts brought his mood down. It reminded him of how much he wished you could’ve shared in his adventures and not to mention how much he missed you, you could hardly send him an owl, what with being a muggle and all, so he only got to spend time with you during the summer months.

Things had changed during his third year, though. When he received a rather shocking, albeit very welcome, letter.

Dear Harry,

I’d like to start by saying: hi, how are you? How’s school? Good? Great. Now that that’s out of the way… when you come home I’m going to KILL you!!! I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you are a wizard! Well, I understand why you didn’t but anyway.

You’re probably wondering how I found all of this out. Long story short, I saw Vernon’s sister floating around your sitting room and then I saw you running out swinging a wand around. I put two and two together. You would not believe how long it took me to figure out how to get in contact with you. I practically had to beg Dudley to tell me how to get this package to you, he eventually told me how in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. It was as horrifying as it sounds, the things I do for you, Haz, honestly. Don’t worry though, you can make it up to me over the summer.

I bought an owl by the way. I’m guessing she found you okay? Look after her for a little while before sending her back will you? She’s just a baby so she can’t do too much long distance travel just yet.The lady I got her from is a witch, she was very kind and knew exactly what I was looking to use an owl for. Her name is Astra (the owl’s not the lady’s)! Isn’t she lovely?

Moving on from that, I felt bad forcing you to send me pictures and getting nothing in return so I have decided to very kindly grace you with my exhilaratingly normal life. You will also find I sent you some of those sweets you like.

Tell Ron and Hermione that I said hi! Oh and Fred and George too! Get into lots of trouble for me ;) I suppose I better stop rambling now, sorry about that I’m just excited (and i might be missing you… just a tiny bit!)

Write back to me soon, if you can! Tell Astra I’m proud of her for making her first delivery! (give her plenty of treats for me yeah?)

I’ll let you get back to your wizardy stuff now, Haz.

Lots of love,

(Y/n) xoxo

P.s. your magical secret is safe with me. promise.

Harry looked up from your letter with a dazed smile, your new little owl was looking at him expectantly, no doubt awaiting her treat, “Good job, Astra. Your owner says she’s very proud of you,” he informed her, handing her a piece of bacon from his breakfast plate and laughed when she hooted happily.

Astra is a gorgeous little tawny, she has brown and white feathers that were fluffy to the touch. Harry could already tell she was well suited to you though, she was friendly as anything with the most curious eyes he’d ever seen.

“Whose it from?” Ron grunted from beside him, munching happily on his huge breakfast.

Harry let out a short laugh, digging into the envelope to pull out the photos and sweets you’d sent, “(Y/n).”

“I thought she didn’t know about you?” Hermione asked from beside Ron, Harry only shrugged.

“She figured it out. She’s quite clever, I think you’d like her Hermione. She says hi by the way.” He answered somewhat distantly, distracted by the pictures you’d sent, all of which had writing on the backs. He paused on one photo, he guessed one of your parents had taken it, you were stood in the woods, surrounded by trees with a huge smile on your face, your eyes were closed and your nose was scrunched up as a very tiny Astra seemed to be nibbling at your ear affectionately.

“I’m sure we’d get along, I admire her determination, really. And she even bought an owl?” The girl questioned, reaching over and petting Astra gently.

Harry’s smile was gentle as Astra hopped onto his shoulder, “Yeah, suppose she did.”

“Alright! I’m gonna say it!” George Weasley exclaimed, plucking the photo of you from Harry’s grasp, he held it between himself and Fred, the older twin had somehow swiped the letter you’d written. “Harry’s girlfriend back home is quite cute, don’t you think, Freddie?” Fred nodded resolutely, pushing the letter into George’s face as he pointed towards a specific line.

“I have to agree and look, Georgie, she told Harry to tell us that she says hi! Ugh, such a darling,” Fred fake swooned and Harry felt his face heat up while George made kissy faces.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Yeah, you had opened Harry up to a whole new world of teasing yet somehow he didn’t mind.

“Oi, do you think she’d like some of our Weasley products?” George asked genuinely, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry shuddered at the thought of you getting a hold of anything that Fred and George had created, because yes, you would like some magical pranking products. You had quite a talent for mischief, only in Harry’s worst nightmares would the Weasley twins ever get their hands on you.

Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Dunno.”

“She single?” Fred asked jokingly and Harry scrunched his face up. He supposed you were single, though, he’d never really pictured you with anyone. He felt quite protective over you, but he supposed he'd like to see you happy with someone he approved of- or alternatively; anyone but Dudley.

“Think so,” Harry told him with another shrug before a cheeky grin spread across his lips, as he focused his attention on the twins who were nudging each other in mock victory, “Why? Should I write home and tell her the esteemed Weasley twins have a crush on her?”

George was the first the speak, he nodded, completely serious and Harry found himself worrying that perhaps one of the Weasley twins would get his hands on you.

“Yes. Absolutely,” Fred snorted and said no more, allowing his younger twin to continue the girl based antics seeing as Fred’s actual crush, Angelina, had started to glare. “In fact, give her my name. Tell her to write to me next time, eh?”

Harry’s eyes widened, oh Merlin, George was serious.

“Oh sod off, would you? The poor girl is a muggle, she’d throw herself off the astronomy tower if she got stuck with either of you prats.” Ron said through a laugh, none of them could deny it was quite funny, even Hermione had to bite back a smile at the chaos your simple letter had caused.

Around two weeks had passed until Astra returned to you, two letters attached to her leg this time.

You greeted her with a warm smile as she landed on the inside of you window, “Welcome home, pretty lady! Did you have a nice trip?” You cooed, patting her feathers and giggling when she nuzzled her head against your fingers. Having a magical owl as a pet was weird, but still, you seemed to be managing her okay.

Astra hooted happily, as if informing you that she did, in fact, have a nice trip. “That’s good! Let me take these letters off and you can have a well deserved rest, I’ve made a nice nest up for you,” you rambled softly as you untied the string that was holding the letters to her leg.

Astra hooted, hopping onto your arm and allowing you to place her on the plush pile of pillows and blankets which she immediately made herself comfortable upon, once again hooting in content when you placed a handful of treats in front of her.

You assumed that both letters were from Harry until you noticed the messy handwriting that covered one of the envelopes, handwriting that definitely didn’t belong to Harry. Besides, never, even in the furthest reaches of your imagination, would your best friend ever refer to you as; “Harry’s Pretty Neighbour”. You set that one to the side for the time being and focused on the letter you knew to actually be from Harry.

Dear (Y/n),

Hi. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a wizard. If it makes you feel better I was actually planning on telling you this summer, but thank you for saving me from that conversation. I miss you too (only a tad). I hope you’re having a good school year so far, it’s been pretty chaotic here but I promise I’ll tell you every single tiny detail when we see each other at the end of May!

Did Astra get home okay? She’s a really lovely owl, she took quite a liking to George who (terrifyingly) has taken quite a liking to you. He’s been badgering me all week for “permission” to write to you, in his words, “just to say hello.” I think you’d actually get along but he and the rest of his family are very magic oriented, I’d be surprised if he didn’t scare you away… the pair of you together would be my worst nightmare. Don’t even get me started on how I’d feel if Fred was in the mix too. I’m tired just thinking about it.

Thank you for the sweets they were lovely, I put a chocolate frog in the envelope for you, it’s a really popular sweet in the wizarding world- don’t freak out when it hops, it’s just a charm the frog isn’t really alive.

I enjoyed the pictures too, I put a few in this letter for you too, the polaroid is running out of film but it should be enough to keep me going until the end of term.

Write to me again soon, I like hearing from you.

Take care,

Harry.

P.S. I’m really sorry you had to kiss Dudley, I’ll do something to make it up to you. Promise.

P.P.S. If George OR Fred manage to write to you PLEASE don’t eat anything they give you.

With a laugh you set the letter down beside you. Curiously, you reached a hand into the ivory envelope and pulled out the peculiarly shaped chocolate box as well as the polaroids. You viewed the photos with a fond smile, Harry always looked so happy, even with whatever chaos was happening around him. Wizard school definitely made your best friend the happiest he’d ever been.

Opening the next letter, which you now guessed judging by Harry’s letter, came from George Weasley, Harry’s friend Ron’s older brother. That was all you knew about him. You let out a gasp once you opened the seal, a small show of tiny fireworks shot out, exploding in balls of reds and oranges across your bedroom before they disappeared as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Slightly frazzled, yet amazed, you cautiously plucked the letter from the envelope and began reading.

Hello, Harry’s Pretty Neighbour.

I hope you enjoyed the show, hopefully it didn’t startle you too much… I’m not exactly sure what muggles are used to… if it did scare you I’m sorry.

Anyway, just wanted to say hi. Promised Harry I wouldn’t spook you, he’s quite protective of you, you know. It’s very sweet.

I don’t blame him, though. If I had a friend as pretty as you I’d be protective too ;)

Don’t break my heart, write back?

Yours truly,

George Weasley x

And that had been the start of it. Two years had passed since you’d discovered the wizarding world and it seemed as though things had simultaneously gotten worse and better. As it turns out, your lifelong best friend was some sort of prophetic hero in the wizard community and on top of that it seemed that there was a war brewing that he would be expected to lead.

Of course, you were completely useless as you don’t possess the ability to perform magic which also means you're at risk of being hate crimed by some classist, wizard, blood supremacists? You weren’t sure. But Harry was worried.

You’d been writing back and forth to a few of Harry’s Hogwarts friends (your friends now too) for a long while now, you’d even gotten a chance to finally meet them when you’d gone with the Dursleys to collect Harry from King’s Cross Station.

You got along best with Hermione seeing as she was raised similarly to yourself and Harry. However, of all of Harry’s school mates, you liked George the most. Everyone could have predicted it really, you’d been writing to each other constantly and the second you’d clapped eyes on each other in the flesh he’d broken out in a run to crush you in a hug. Harry had groaned at the sight of the pair of you, smiling widely at each other, seeming to slot together perfectly. He had to laugh about it now though, if things went well with Ginny he supposed you’d probably end up being his sister-in-law, assuming his predictions of George falling completely in love with you were correct (they were, he knew).

All air of laughter or wizard/muggle romances was gone at the moment however. You and Harry sat alongside each other, your hand holding his loosely between the swings you were sat on, he’d be going into his 5th year at Hogwarts soon, he’d yet to recover from the last. He’d made a friend only for that friend to be killed right in front of him. He’d almost been murdered himself for God’s sake.

“If you don’t feel safe, Haz… maybe, I don’t know? Don’t go back?” You suggested weakly, knowing he’d never do such a thing. As you expected, Harry shook his head and looked at you solemnly.

“Can’t. Not now that he’s back.” With a sigh you squeezed his hand.

“They should be paying you for this, you know,” Harry chuckled then, squeezing your hand in return.

“I’m doing this for you too. To keep you safe.” He admitted and you sighed miserably.

“I wish I could be of more help.” Harry scoffed, his green eyes shining with pure disbelief as he stared at you.

“More help? (Y/n) you must be joking…” he trailed off as you shook your head, you weren’t joking, you hated that you couldn’t help Harry through this, for once you knew there was nothing you could do to improve the situation in any way that would make an impact, “Oi. Look at me,” Harry demanded, no trace of the usual awkward sarcasm to be heard when he spoke.

You let your eyes meet his again and watched how they seemed to soften when he took in how utterly defenceless you looked, “If it hadn’t been for you, the first ten years of my life would’ve been an even worse hell than they already were. You were the only good thing and you’re still the only good thing about being back in this place.”

He watched sadly as your eyes fell to the floor again, “Besides, the sooner we get this mess with Voldemort sorted out, the sooner you and George Weasley can navigate the whole muggle/wizard romance thing.”

At his statement you barked out a laugh and Harry let himself smile too, “Shut up, Potter. S’not like that.”

Harry laughed then too, “Oh it is so like that, (N/n).”

“It so isn’t.” You grumbled, but your little smile confirmed to Harry that it absolutely was like that.

“Okay. Fine, please then do tell, what is going on between you and the infamous George Weasley?” Harry challenged, revelling in the way your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He let out a low chuckle when you shrugged shyly and kicked the stones beneath your feet.

“I don’t know… We write to each other a lot, and I think he’s really interesting and funny and sweet and of course I think he’s fit. But, I don’t know,” you bit your lip as Harry listened to you, he found it quite endearing. “I just don’t see how it would work. I like him, yeah, but…” Harry scoffed again as you trailed off. He hated seeing you feeling so insecure, Harry was clueless about a lot of things, but he knew exactly how much his best friend was worth- more than all the gold in Gringott’s.

“Ok as your best mate, and as someone who is very close with the Weasley family, I’m telling you that he’s mad about you. All he ever does is ask me about you, Fred is completely sick of him. He’s even told Molly about you, which is truly a commitment believe me,” Harry started, growing more content with the more bashful you became, “And didn’t he write to you just before the Yule Ball to tell you that he was going with Katie Bell as a friend but he wanted to tell you just incase you heard it from someone else and he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea?” Finally, you were back to fighting a smile.

“Yeah he did.”

“Well there you go. But seriously he hasn’t dated or even so much as looked at anyone else since he met you. Which I’ll be honest is super annoying for me but you deserve someone who thinks you hung the stars in the sky.”

A mock gasp left your lips and you released his hand to place it over your chest in faux hurt, “You mean to tell me you don’t think I hung the stars in the sky? I’m hurt, Harry. I think I’ll have to rat you out to Mrs. Weasley.”

Harry laughed but the lighthearted atmosphere didn’t last long before Dudley had shown up with his little gang of bullies, all of whom made fun of Harry’s nightmares.

It was then things had taken a turn for the worst, the sky turned black and storm clouds completely blocked out the previously scorching sun. You looked to Harry for answers but he seemed to be seeing something that you couldn’t, all you knew was that it had become unbearably cold, a feeling of misery making a home in your bones as Harry rushed to pull you to your feet.

“Run! Come on!” He shouted, clutching your hand tightly in his and sprinting through the neighbourhood until you, Harry and Dudley found yourselves struggling to catch a breath in a graffiti covered tunnel.

A terrified yelp left your throat as what you’d been running from revealed itself to you.

Several floating, cloaked shadowy figures swooped into the tunnel on both sides, their hands decaying and boney, their presence leaving you with the feeling that you’d never know positively ever again.

Harry had effectively used his body to cage you against the wall of the tunnel, his back pressed firmly against your chest, your own back pressed to the cold concrete wall, his wand was at the ready as the creatures approached rapidly.

“Don’t look at them.” Harry instructed, protecting you first as you watched in horror as one of the creatures seemed to be ripping Dudley’s essence straight out of his body.

It only took Harry a few painfully long seconds to take care of the creature in front of the pair of you, you’d wished you’d taken his advice and buried your head in his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the monstrous creatures before you, yet, you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Dudley.

The rest happened in a blur, Harry had yet to let go of your hand as it (and your entire body) shook violently. Demontors broke even the strongest of wizards, Harry knew that as a muggle who’d never seen a magical creature, other than an owl, you’d react negatively.

“If it makes you feel any better, I used to faint every time I saw a dementor.” You nodded numbly, giving Dudley a side glance of concern while he mumbled incoherently to himself.

“Is he alright?” You questioned meekly, voice shaking. You were still freezing and the all too familiar feeling of uselessness didn’t do anything to help you regain your inner warmth.

Harry nodded, “He will be.”

“The ministry will be after my head for using magic outside of school,” he told you after a few minutes, squeezing your hand lightly for the umpteenth time, “So I’m gonna have to go away for a while. Probably tonight. Eat some chocolate, it should stop the shaking.” He told you, you hadn’t even noticed you’d reached Privet Drive.

“And they won’t-“ your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes filled with fear, “The dementors. They won’t come back, will they?”

Harry shook his head, “No. But come on, we should get you inside before the ministry shows up and tries to obliviate you.” His final words came out as more of a mumble than an actual sentence as he passed a bumbling Dudley over to Petunia and Vernon before steering you down your own driveway.

“You better not have broken her too, boy!” You vaguely registered Vernon’s voice shouting in your and Harry’s direction.

Your parents were away on holiday at the moment, in Spain. They’d wanted you to come but you hadn’t wanted to miss Harry’s visit, so when you shakily managed to open the door the house was completely dark, you weren’t sure at what point night had fallen.

Harry closed the door behind himself and made his way into your kitchen, the boy rifled through your sweet press before his hand finally settled on what he was looking for. A triumphant sort of yell left his lips as he pulled a bar of chocolate out of the cupboard.

While Harry tossed the bar onto the counter and busied himself with boiling the kettle, you stood in the hallway still, completely rigid.

“Come on, (Y/n). Sit down.” He urged gently, not turning around. Wordlessly, you fully entered the kitchen and slid into a chair facing Harry.

“Don’t you have better things to be doing than making me tea?” You wondered, setting your hands on the table and fidgeting with your icy fingers. Obviously, you appreciated Harry’s fussing but with the way he was talking about the ministry earlier you were sure he had more important things to worry about.

Harry only faced you once he was finished making your tea. He carried the hot cup and the previously discarded bar of chocolate over to you, he placed them both on the table before giving you a hard look, “I’m looking after you first. I’ll deal with everything else later.”

“I used to be the one who took care of you.” You said through a sigh, taking a sip of the hot tea and slumping against your seat as you began to heat up on the inside again.

Harry let out a low chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”

“I liked it better the other way.” You complained, munching on a square of chocolate.

“Trust me, so did I,” Harry groaned, standing up and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry though, (N/n). Have a sneaking feeling that you’ll be looking after me again soon enough.”

You patted the hand he had clamped on your shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you, though, for looking after me.”

“Course. I better go. I don’t want you getting roped into anything else tonight,” he said with a sad smile and you nodded in understanding, “We probably won’t see each other for a while but I’ll write. Is Astra back from Cecilia's yet?” Celillia is the witch you’d gotten Astra from in the first place, the pair of you had kept in touch and she’d recently offered to try and teach you some basic divination skills, she claimed that, “Being a wizard isn’t exactly a requirement” and you desperately needed something, anything, to make you feel more connected to your friends in the wizarding world. You supposed you’d need to plan a trip to her cottage soon, after tonight you definitely needed some of her wisdom.

“No, not yet. She flew straight there from the burrow so I suppose she’s probably resting,” you informed him distantly, still clutching his hand, “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

Harry squeezed your shoulder and let out a deep breath, “I’ll try my best. Promise,” with that he lifted his hand from your shoulder and extended his pinky to you, you gladly linked it with your own. Harry noted, very gratefully, that the warmth had now returned to your hands and you’d stopped shaking so violently.

“Send me a letter once Astra gets back, alright? I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on over on my side.” You agreed before walking Harry to the door, hugging him tightly and watching as he approached the Dursley’s front door.

As predicted, Harry, George, Hermione and Cecillia had let you know that the wizarding world was crumbling fast. Admittedly you were worried about your wizard friends, but Cecillia had done a great job of keeping you distracted by keeping you buried under heaps of divination books, tarot cards and crystal guidebooks. As it turns out, though, you had quite the talent for making accurate detailed predictions.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were descended from a powerful seer,” she’d written to you in awe after you’d managed to predict exactly how a date of hers would go without missing a single detail.

Reading tarot cards quickly became one of your favourite hobbies to indulge in when you weren’t in school. You’d made the mistake of telling George about it in a recent letter, Harry already knew and he also knew that there was no point telling you that he didn’t have a heap of faith in divination. George however was having a field day with the new information.

The older boy teased you at every chance he got, but it was all in good fun as in every letter he sent, you’d find a page that he’d ripped out of his own divination book, the pages would be crinkled and have messy notes scribbled along the margins, with explanations over words that he knew you wouldn’t understand as a muggle. They were actually really helpful. Aside from all the teasing he found it quite endearing that you were trying to get familiar with some form of magic. Even if it was a form of magic wizards tended to ridicule.

He’d been quite worried about you, Harry told him about the dementors and how you’d been quite shaken up after your encounter with them. He’d written to you on a weekly basis, constantly checking in on you, making absolutely sure that no more dementors paid you a visit. He and Harry both kept you up to date with the constant and seemingly never ending rules being imposed upon them by their new headmaster, or headmistress; Delores Umbridge. George also disclosed to you all about his and Fred’s plan to leave Hogwarts and pursue their lifelong dream of opening a joke shop. You had nothing but faith in the twins, really. Your complete faith in them hadn’t stopped you from sending George a handful of crystals that you believed would help his and his shop’s success. He’d teased you relentlessly in each letter since he’d received your package containing citrine, tiger’s eye, amazonite, aventurine and smokey quartz. What he hadn’t mentioned since receiving your little gifts, is that he’d been carrying the five crystals around in their little orange mesh drawstring bag in his pocket everywhere he went. He had to give credit where credit is due and, to be fair to you and your holistic ways, he hadn’t run into any serious obstacles since he started carrying the gems around.

November through June had brought forth a plethora of unfortunate events. You were practically swimming in school work which left you with no time to write to Harry, or even practice tarot. As well as that, you’d been having nightmares, although Cecillia had warned that these dreams could hold some sort of prophesies within them, you highly doubted that though, you weren’t a wizard, only a muggle. Whether prophetic or not, the nightmares plagued you, keeping you up at night or waking you at all hours of the morning.

On one particular morning, you’d awoken with a gasp. Sweat coated your face, soaked your pillow cases and caused your legs to stick to your blankets in a way not even the June heat could've caused. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, tears welled in your eyes, and your body shook as violently as it had the night you’d come face to face with the dementors of Azkaban. The unadulterated fear coursing through your bloodstream suggested that perhaps this bad dream had been something more than simply that.

As fast as you could manage in your panicked state, you dragged your body out of bed and stumbled towards your light switch, flicking it on before haphazardly ripping a sheet out of the refill pad on your desk, grabbing a pen and beginning to scribble down the dream that you could only describe as a warning.

Your laboured breaths stirred Astra from her slumber, the tawny hooted tiredly, hopping out of her cage and fluttering over to your shoulder, settling there as you wrote.

Harry,

I hope this letter reaches you in time. I might sound completely mad but something terrible may be about to happen. I’ve been having these horrific dreams over the last few months, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry but Cecillia suspects they’re premonitions and I’m terrified she may be right. I’ve just woken up, it’s around 2am and if I’m lucky, Astra should get this letter to you before 6am…

Onto the dream, you were there and you were asleep, I was standing by your bed, it was a four-poster sort of thing, the room was decorated in mostly red and gold. You woke up panicked, you looked completely overwhelmed and you began shouting about your Godfather Sirius, about how he was in trouble… From then on I watched the day play out. You, Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, a boy with brown hair I’ve never met, I think you called him Neville in my dream, and a blonde girl- Luna I think you called her, you all went to the ministry to rescue Sirius and find some kind of prophecy. Harry you have to listen to me, you mustn’t go, it’s a trick, Voldemort planted it in your head and if you go you’ll only put Sirius in harm’s way. But, knowing you, you’re gonna go anyway… so here’s my advice: keep your eyes open for the witch Bellatrix. Keep Sirius away from the veil and please please please, be careful.

I’m heading to Cecillia’s cottage for the day and maybe even the next couple of days, send Astra there when you find time to write back.

I hope I’m wrong but if I’m not; good luck, Harry. I love you and if you don’t look after yourself the dark lord will be the least of your worries.

Lots of love,

Y/n.

Folding up the letter and placing it in a stray envelope, you addressed it and gently tied it to your loyal owl’s leg. “I’m gonna need you to go as fast as you can to get this to Harry, okay Astra?” She hooted with what you guessed to be determination before she set off, out into the night. Thankfully for you, now that your owl was occupied, you knew Cecillia owned a telephone so you’d have no problems contacting her. While writing to Harry, you’d left out a few details about the dream. You conveniently forget to mention that you’d watched his only remaining family member killed at the hand’s of Bellatrix, it had looked so terrifyingly real that your mind couldn’t have possibly conjured it up all by itself. You also failed to mention hearing Harry’s agonising scream as Sirius fell, the noise was nearly deafening. Seeing Sirius, a man you’d only seen in pictures, die and watching your best friend mourn for him was, well, traumatising. There was no way you’d get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night, so, you quietly tiptoed downstairs and made a call.

The line rang three times before Cecillia’s voice sounded, chirpy as ever despite the late hour, “Hello?”

“Sorry to call so late,” was all you managed, your voice although shaky was immediately identified by the much older witch.

You could nearly see the soft smile on her youthful face as she spoke, “Ah, Y/n my darling, no worries at all! How is my favourite student doing at half two in the morning?”

“Not well, I’ve had another vision. I think you might’ve been right about the dreams being prophetic,” you told her, willing your voice not to crack as the image of your bad dreams crept into your mind once again.

Cecillia let out a gentle hum, “Shall I apparate over? You don’t sound in the highest of spirits, darling.”

“Yes please,” you answered simply and within seconds Cecillia was standing before you, a worried furrow in her brow and her ashy brown hair disheveled from apparating to you in such a hurry. How could she not? You were, after all, her protégé.

“Oh, darling. You look terribly shaken up, come, come, let’s get you some water,” she fretted, guiding you to your kitchen, magically flicking on the light with her wand and filling up a glass of water, with a few flicks of her wrist the glass had floated over to your usual seat at the table, meanwhile Cecillia had stirred you into the wooden chair adjacent the glass.

Wordlessly, the witch peeled your damp hair away from your face and secured it back with a crocodile clip shaped like a huge golden bumble bee, it’s wings adorned with glittering gems. The bee sat comfortably in your hair as Cecillia finally sat down beside you, she made herself comfortable on the kitchen chair, crossing one leg over the other, resting her elbow on the table and using it to prop her cheek up. Her wide green eyes stared at you sympathetically, watching intently as you sipped your water.

“I’m assuming your loyal familiar is sleeping soundly?” She wondered, referring to Astra. You shook your head, simultaneously swallowing a gulp of water before responding verbally.

“I sent her with a letter to Harry, it was more of a warning really,” Cecillia nodded her head, signalling you to go on, “I dreamt of Harry and his friends going to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius Black, but it was a trap. When they got there they were ambushed by dark wizards and Sirius well he…” you trailed off, eyes growing distant and unfocused when the sight of the man being murdered reentered your mind’s eye. A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present.

“This one was far worse than the others then?”

You nodded, “It didn’t feel like a dream, cecillia. It was like I was actually standing there but I couldn’t do anything to help though… as per usual,” you muttered bitterly, receiving a harsh squeeze to your shoulder in response.

Cecillia fixed you with a maternal glare, “None of that! You potentially saved a life tonight. And, as I effortlessly predicted since the moment I met you, you’ve got the magical gift of sight,” her hard look melted into something more forgiving as she spoke, “You’re much more than just a muggle. You may have been an extremely late bloomer, but, you’re a witch and a seer at that. A peculiar case indeed, although in the wizarding world stranger things have happened,” the old witch told you proudly, eyes shining with glee as your own filled with confusion.

“How do we know the dream will even come true?” You questioned.

Cecillia simply shrugged and offered you a cheeky grin, “I trust your feelings, darling.”

True to your initial feeling, you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you found out whether or not your dream had come to fruition. Cecillia remained by your side throughout the night, eventually the sun had risen and your parents descended down the stairs, neither of them were surprised to see Cecillia sitting at the kitchen table. They saw her as an odd woman, very kind and perfectly lovely, but odd. You’d told them that she owned an animal sanctuary and that you’d been volunteering with her, it wasn’t too far fetched really, she had given you an owl after all, not to mention the amount of cats that hung around her cottage.

She explained to your parents that she needed your help at ‘the sanctuary’ for the next few days and that she’d drop you home once the work was finished. It hadn’t been a problem, so you traveled to Cecillia’s cottage after getting dressed and packing an overnight bag (full to the brim with tarot decks and only some clothes).

It was nearly 8 in the evening when Cecillia sauntered into her living room, where you were sitting, sporting a knowing grin, she held a piece of parchment in one hand and an unopened envelope in the other.

Jovially, she plopped herself down beside you, obviously doing her very best to contain a huge grin from forming on her face. Wordlessly, she placed the envelope on your lap with a mere, “For you.”

On the envelope you could tell by the handwriting that it had come from Harry. This was definitely a make or break moment for you. The contents of this letter would either confirm that you did in fact have magic, or, they would be responsible for causing you to experience a seismic amount of embarrassment. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tore the envelope open, freeing the letter and daring to read what was inside.

Dear Y/n,

Your dream was right. And that advice you gave about keeping an eye on Sirius? It saved his life. I suppose I’m mostly writing to say thank you. I’ve got some updates for you too: firstly, it’s finally been confirmed that Voldemort is back so my name is cleared. Secondly, it turns out that Remus and Cecillia are old friends, she contacted him earlier today about your vision and he and Sirius haven’t shut up about how impressive it is. I have a feeling you might be hearing from them soon, The Order now more than ever is in need of a secret weapon and genuine seers are hard to come by. I hate to involve you in this, it’ll probably be dangerous and you know I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. But having said that, I’m glad we’re in this together now.

Astra got here in good time, by the way, she landed on my window just after I woke up from my vision of Sirius, it was actually quite freaky. I’m taking good care of her so don’t worry, she should be back to you at some point tomorrow.

Hermoine and Ron say hi too. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from George soon, seeing as he and Fred are in the Order… On that note I better get going.

Thank you again for the warning.

See you soon,

Love, Harry.

A bemused smile spread across your lips as you scanned the page, thankful to have finally made a significant difference in Harry’s life. Cecillia was grinning like a cheshire cat beside you, pride shimmering in her emerald eyes. She bumped her arm against yours playfully when you let the letter fall to your lap, “An old friend of mine will be stopping by in a short while. It seems he’d like to get you trained up in some defence against the dark arts.” She told you, still grinning.

“Defence against the dark arts?” You wondered out loud, you were sure you’d heard Harry mention those words to you before, however, the memories were fuzzy.

“Magic to keep you safe from darker magic, the likes of which the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters rely,” she explained darkly. Just then, a loud bang erupted from her open stone fireplace, a bubble of green dissipated as two men stepped less than gracefully onto Cecillia’s faux-fur rug. You recognised them both from your vision. They were Sirius Black and, if you were to take an educated guess, Remus Lupin.

Cecillia wasted no time before she was giddily jumping from her seat to greet the pair who had just appeared in her sitting room.

“Remus! Oh, how wonderful to see you!” She all but squealed, pulling the tall man into a hug and ruffling his already messy hair.

He reciprocated the hug with a gentle chuckle, “It’s nice to see you again, Cece. It’s been far too long,” he pulled away and the pair of them shared a fond smile before simultaneously looking to Sirius. “I trust you remember Sirius?” Lupin asked, almost rhetorically.

Sirius let out a booming laugh at that, “She could never forget me, now could you, Cece?” Cecillia rolled her eyes, and with a look of endearment nearly tackled Sirius into an embrace.

Seeing the woman who was essentially your magical mentor so overjoyed was lovely, Cecillia was jolly at the best of times but you’d never seen her quite like this. Her happiness added to your sense of helpfulness, Sirius Black was obviously important to more than just Harry, if the smile on the free-spirited witches face was anything to go by. Although you were ecstatic for the three witches and wizards before you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were imposing on an intimate reunion.

Awkwardly you cleared your throat, successfully bringing the trio’s attention onto you as you stood by the sofa, smiling unsurely. If it was even possible, all three of their smiles broadened when their gazes landed on you.

“Am I right in assuming that this is my guardian angel?” Sirius asked, separating from Cecillia.

Cecillia nodded, filled with pride, “And isn’t she just the loveliest guardian angel you’ve ever seen?” She gushed, half seriously.

You offered Sirius a bashful smile, along with a nod of greeting, “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” you told him.

His grin stayed fixed in place but he raised a single eyebrow in confusion, “Glad? And yet you’ve never met me before now…” his tone was laced with inquisition, as if he wanted to figure out what ulterior motive you could possibly have for caring about a stranger you’d only ever seen in a dream.

It didn’t take a seer or a psychic to see what Sirius was after, so you simply answered him truthfully, “No, we’ve never met, but you’re still a person, I watched that woman kill you, it was horrible, nobody deserves that. As well as that; I know how much you mean to Harry and what sort of best friend would I be if I didn’t try to help him keep his last family member safe?” Sirius nodded approvingly at your reply, looking between Remus and Cecillia.

“She remind you of anyone?” The black haired man asked in a low chuckle, Remus snickered and Cecillia bit back a grin.

The witch made her way back to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, jostling you ever so slightly when she noticed your vaguely worried expression, “Don’t worry, darling, you just remind us of one of our most treasured school friends, I promise I will tell you all about it later. But for now, I believe Sirius was about to thank you for saving his life?” She prompted, waiting expectantly.

Sirius cleared his throat and straightened his posture before outstretching his arm, offering you his hand which you took firmly in your own. His voice was steady, strong and genuine when he spoke, “I am truly thankful for what you did for not only me but Harry today. I’m extremely proud of my godson for aligning himself with such a strong, powerful and wonderfully loyal young lady.”

“How sweet,” Cecillia cooed, before guiding you to the kitchen, “Come now, boys, kettles on- we have a lot to discuss!” She called over her shoulder.

There certainly had been a lot to discuss. The Order of the Phoenix thought having a seer at their disposal would be extremely beneficial in the upcoming war, the issue was; you are not yet of age and some members of the group didn’t wish to involve a child in their battle. Sirius, Remus and Cecillia made it abundantly clear that if you desired to join the Order, you were more than welcome but you would be welcomed under certain conditions. Those conditions being that your membership be kept under wraps and not disclosed to any muggles, meaning your parents.

“To keep them safe and to give you an escape route if things get too messy, even with the level of magic you’ll have gained by the time the war is in full swing, as a muggle born you’ll most likely need to flee quickly,” Remus explained, though it didn’t make much sense.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to run if my parents knew what we were running from? They’re open minded people, I’m sure they’d understand,” you attempted to reason, the trio but exchanged yet another loaded look with each other.

Cecillia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “We have a contingency plan in place, darling. Nothing you need to worry about for right now,” she reassured, easing your nerves a tad. “You trust me don’t you?” She followed up, her tone slightly stonier, more serious. You nodded your head certainly in response, there was no doubt about it; you trusted the witch with your life. “Then,” she began again, a somewhat chastising look on her face, “Trust that I will not allow a single hair on your head to be harmed.” This rule also extended to wizards not in the Order, which meant that when in the magical world, you were to air on the side of extreme caution.

Relating to that, another condition was that, at all times in the magical world, you were to be accompanied by an of age member of the Order. According to Sirius, who your were growing to like more by the second, he was going to arrange for a member of the Order to bring you to Diagon Alley in the morning to get you a wand. The prospect of having a wand of your own was terribly exciting, once again though, you found yourself wondering if you had it in you to properly wield one, or wield one at all for that matter. You were too exhausted to fret for too long, so the thoughts about magic levels and your own capabilities were only fleeting. Once all of the serious chat dissipated into friendly chatter, you managed to slip away from the table at which you were all sat. Making your way back to the sitting room, you tucked yourself into the corner seat of Cecillia’s old and very comfortable sofa, pulled your knees against your chest, wrapped your arms around them and rested your cheek against your knee. Slowly and deeply, you began to breathe in and out, fiddling with the amazonite bracelet that adorned your wrist in order to quell your ever growing anxiety. For a few sweet minutes you indulged in the calm silence, meditating peacefully in your comfy seat until a soft knock sounded from the doorway. When your eyes fluttered open they were met with the image of Sirius Black, leaning casually against the frame of the door, a hand plunged deep into his trouser pocket and another flipping a stray tarot card between his fingers. His eyes were focused on yours as he spoke, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

You shook your head and patted the seat beside you, “‘Course not, come sit.”

The man chuckled but obliged, settling in the spot beside you and offering you the card he’d previously been fiddling with.

“The ten of swords,” you identified easily, “I assume you’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed if this card found its way to you.”

Sirius hummed, “CeCe tells me that you’ve a penchant for card reading. I was rubbish at divination back at Hogwarts, only took it because I thought it’d be easy but I could never get my head around it,” he reminisced, an airy laugh slipping from his lips.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who were you all talking about earlier when you asked if I reminded Cecilia and Remus of anyone?” He let out a deep sigh before fixing you with a soft smile.

“An old school friend of ours, she was more than a friend to me, but that’s a story for another time,” he started, staring out into the empty space before him a melancholy grin on his lips, “She was fiercely loyal to her friends, if she wanted to help there was absolutely nothing that would stop her from doing so. I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I heard today and the way in which you’ve been described to me by Harry; I can see her in you,” he finished, bumping his shoulder with yours and forcing a happy smile onto your lips which mirrored Sirius’.

“What’s her name?” You asked.

“Her name was Marlene,” Sirius answered.

Your heart dropped with his use of past tense, “Was?”

Sirius bowed his head slightly and began to twist the rings that adorned his slender fingers, “She was killed during the first war,” he told you, making eye contact once again, a grave expression on his face as he continued, “I saw your apprehension earlier when we brought up the topic of secrecy, but you must understand that during the first war we lost so many who were dear to us, keeping you in our back pocket will ensure that you aren’t harmed in the face of this war, if any dark wizards hear so much of a whisper of a muggleborn seer they will stop at nothing to eliminate you,” he paused for a brief second, never breaking eye contact, the gravity of the situation heavy on your chest your fingers absentmindedly found your amazonite bracelet once again. Your movements were halted when Sirius placed his large hand over yours, squeezing it warmly while staring at you determinedly, “You saved my life today, Y/n. So believe me when I tell you that I will stop at nothing to keep you safe,” he promised and you squeezed his hand in return.

“I know,” he smiled as he watched your eyes return to the ten of swords and your grin broadened with the sort of mischief he’d only ever seen in four people; James Potter, Marlene McKinnon and Fred and George Weasley. “I have a prediction for you.”

Sirius entertained you fondly, a mischievous air that reminded him of when he was your age surrounding the pair of you, “By all means, do tell.”

“I predict,” you paused for emphasis, “that we are going to be very good friends.”

Sirius let out a booming laugh of which the volume he couldn’t control, “That is a prediction I truly hope will come to fruition.”

“Oh no, this is a duo that spells trouble,” Cecillia giggled to Remus as they entered the sitting room.

Remus looked between you and Sirius with a grin, “With a mentor like you, Cece, I’m not surprised Y/n has a taste for mischief,” the ruffled wizard teased, receiving a gentle elbow to the ribs from your mentor.

“Oi, if you’re going to blame my beloved girl’s mischief on anyone you better blame it on a certain Weasley twin,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and causing the boys to smile giddily like teenagers.

Sirius bumped your shoulder again, this time with a faux-scandalised smile, “A Weasley twin, eh? Come on then, which one?” You blushed heavily and cleared your throat in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassment filling your being.

“He’s just a friend!”

“Mhm. A friend that sends her annotated pages from his divination text book,” Cecillia sang and Sirius snickered.

“Whichever one it is must be quite taken with you if you made him actually crack open a textbook.”

“Annotations are quite intimate,” Remus half teased although you could see he believed what he’d just said, “I bet it’s George,” he directed the bet at Sirius who carefully observed the way you bit your lip and bashfully looked towards the wooden floor.

“I think you’re right, moony. Now!” He stood suddenly and pointed a finger at Remus expectantly, “We best get going and arrange Y/n’s accomplice for tomorrow’s field trip,” he wiggled his eyebrows before turning his head to face you again, he shot you a wink and you couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left your mouth at his lighthearted antics.

Remus gave Cecillia a one armed hug, “we’ll be seeing you both tomorrow then, it was lovely to meet you, Y/n, perhaps next time Sirius will allow me to get a word in,” he chuckled and Sirius responded by throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“I better get off, this husband of mine is growing jealous,” he told you in a teasingly hushed whisper.

Your eyes widened and you looked between the two men, “You two are married?”

A love struck smile took over both of their faces which immediately gave you your answer. “We’re engaged,” Sirius clarified before pulling you into a proper hug, “Get a good night's sleep, we’ll be sending an order member to collect you early tomorrow morning so you can be in and out of Olivander’s before a crowd can build,” he told you while giving you an affectionate squeeze, you could’ve laughed when you realised that it felt like you’d known Sirius forever but you also could’ve cried when you relived the image of him losing his life and realised that just because it was over and prevented didn't mean it hadn’t still transpired in your mind’s eye, you didn’t let that show on your face though.

“I’ll make sure I’m well rested,” you promised.

With that, Sirius bid Cecillia goodbye, and he and Remus left the way they’d came.

The rest of the night had been spent with Cecillia telling you story after story about her school days and the trouble she’d caused with Sirius, Remus, James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents, and another boy who she only referred to as “the rat”. Though the tone of the stories were completely lighthearted, they weighed on your chest with a sense of such tragedy. A huge majority of their friends were killed young because of the war, a war that was now waging once again. It led you to wonder who’d be lost to this one, if perhaps you’d be on the list of names that Harry or Cecillia or George would speak about fondly with a dense undertone of sorrow in the years after the second war had long since been won. It was a risk you were willing to take though, the notion of fighting for a deserving cause filled you with a sense of purpose, a purpose you’d been searching for for years. More than that, you felt important. You were needed. An asset. You would actually be of some help.

True to your word, you’d been getting a good night’s rest. The bed in Cecillia’s spare room was the comfiest thing you’d ever come across, though, as you began to stir from your deep slumber you couldn’t recall the empty side of the double bed being quite so dipped.

Slowly and begrudgingly, you cracked your eyes open to see Cecillia smiling tiredly at you in the light of dawn, “Morning, darling. Sorry about the early start, I’ve made you some tea,” she greeted quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the early morning. She held two ceramic mugs, one in each hand and passed you the steaming cup that was hand painted green, keeping the brown one for herself. Tiredly, you patted the spot beside you and pulled the quilt to the side, inviting the witch into the warm bed. She happily slid in, pulling the quilt over her and chuckling quietly when you dropped your head onto her robed shoulder and began to sip the tea she’d made. Cecillia rested her head against yours and sipped on her own tea.

“Are you excited for today?” She asked and you hummed.

“I’m having mixed emotions,” you stated, “I’m excited to see everything, but I’m sort of nervous that I won’t have enough magic to even get a wand,” Comfort spread through your chest when Cecillia pressed her lips to the crown of your head.

“The wonderful thing about wands, lovely, is that the wand picks the wizard,” she began, “so whatever wand you end up with will accentuate the level of magic inside you. Its power will grow as yours does and you’ll soon come to realise that you couldn’t imagine wielding anything else,” her voice was wistful and her eyes shined with wonder as she recalled how it felt to bond to a wand.

“What do you think mine will be like?” You wondered, excitement awakening in you thanks to Cecillia’s encouraging words.

The witch took an exaggerated slurp of her tea before answering, “Something curious,” was all she said.

“Insightful,” you murmured and she shrugged unapologetically, her chaotic energy exuding now that she’d started to wake up fully. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half six, your chaperone should be arriving at seven and Olivander’s opens at eight,” she told you before shimmying out of bed, you whined in the absence of your head rest. “You better get dressed. Wear something nice, rumour has it that your tag along is quite the eligible bachelor,” she wiggled her eyebrows and all but floated out of the spare room. It was practically your room by now though, over the years since you’d gotten Astra and met Cecillia you’d stayed in the room on countless occasions. Cecillia embodied something that was something between a second mother, a spiritual mentor, a teasing older sister and a slightly kooky aunt.

“Oh? So do you reckon I should brush my hair then?” You jokingly called out after her only to receive a harsh scoff.

“Absolutely not! Don’t be desperate!” You barked out a laugh at her response, shaking your head and getting ready for the day ahead.

You were just about finished getting ready when a familiar bang sounded from the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself one last look over in the mirror, happy with the outfit you’d chosen, you made your way towards the sitting room to come face to face with your surprise chaperone for the day.

When you shuffled into the sitting room, a smile immediately stretched across your lips upon seeing who had been appointed to stick by your side for the day, “George!” His name left your mouth in a squeal that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so excited to see him. It’d been upwards of a year since the last time you’d seen George in the flesh and although you’d seen each other in photos and written to each other at a rate that was almost excessive, the prospect of spending time together in person was, for lack of a better word; magical.

George drew his attention away from the framed pictures that lined Cecillia’s fireplace to see you standing in the doorway, looking as bright as the newly risen sun and sporting a smile that he couldn’t quite put into words how it made him feel. It only took a second before his own cheek splitting smile grew on his face, and with it left his hopes of impressing you with his cool and collected attitude. You hadn’t given him too much time to dwell on his ruined cool guy facade as you all but threw yourself into his arms. The red head let out an endearing laugh, catching you in his toned arms, wrapping them tightly around your torso. A scarlet blush rising on his ears when he felt your smile against his neck. “Hello to you too,” he chuckled against your ear and you pulled back enough to look at him, your arms still secure around his shoulders.

“Sorry,” you started, the smile that still adorned your lips telling him that you weren’t all that sorry at all, “Hi,” you greeted, bashfully pulling your arms away from him.

The sitting room was quiet for a moment as the pair of you only stared at each other, would it be too much to tell him that you’ve missed him? You didn’t want to come on too strong after such a long time apart, you’d already tackled him into a hug within the first five seconds, but with that came your next internal question of; did you really want to keep this boy on his toes?

George, having already discarded his notion of acting nonchalant with you, bet you to the punch. He rubbed the back of his neck and flicked his gaze to the floor before bringing it back to you, “I’ve missed you.”

A giggle left your lips before you could think about choking it down, you nodded your head, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Sorry I haven’t written, Astra is still with Harry.”

George gave you a grin, “No worries, darling. Heard you’ve been a very busy little psychic lately.”

Darling, you mused internally, the nickname echoing through your head and causing your heart to somersault in a way you’d never really felt before.

“Oh how sweet,” Cecillia sang from the doorway, a wicked grin on her face as she took in the two hopeless blushing messes, staring doe-eyed at each other in the middle of her living room. “I hate to break up the reunion, my dears, but the pair of you really should get going,” she instructed, strutting up to you and holding a cloth pouch in your direction, “Sirius left you some spending money, it’s different than the money you usually use but I’m sure George will have no problem helping you out,” Cecillia shot the boy a wink and he nodded, once again growing bashful.

“Now,” she grew serious, directing her words at George and making him slightly intimidated with her strong eye contact, “You are to be extremely careful. You are not to mention that Y/n is a seer and you are not to draw any attention to the fact that she is a muggleborn, if Mr. Olivander asks, she’s a half-blood who's been living in the states and that’s why she doesn’t have a wand,” you wore a confused expression, George nodded in complete understanding, “Did Sirius give you the list?”

George nodded once again, pulling a folded piece of parchment out of the back pocket of his slightly baggy denim jeans, “May I take a look?” Cecillia asked, already snatching the parchment from George’s long fingers and unfolding the sheet and reading it aloud, “Alright! A wand… seriously? He used a whole page of parchment just to write one thing?” She grumbled, stomping over to the nearest side table, leaning down and began to scribble on the parchment. You looked to George as she wrote, “Why do you have to say I’m from the States?” You asked quietly and George leaned down slightly to be closer to your ear.

“Witches and wizards in America don’t get wands until they’re of age, we get them here when we’re eleven,” just as he was finished offering his explanation, Cecillia walked back over, a hard look on her face that you weren’t used to seeing, though it seemed that the look was reserved for George.

Silently she handed him the parchment before looking to you, hard look dissolving back into her usual playful expression, “Have fun, lovely.” She then turned to George again, apparently having had enough of trying to intimidate the poor boy, she shot him a smile, “You’ll be taking the floo to Diagon Alley, my fireplace is big enough to take the both of you at once,” she handed George a pouch of what looked like green powder, “George knows what to do, now, not to sound like a broken record but do stay safe and have fun,” she finished, ushering the pair of you into her fireplace. You couldn’t lie, it was quite strange, you supposed you should get used to things coming across as strange, you were about to be exposed to the magical wizarding world for the first time after all. In the fireplace, you stood shoulder to shoulder with George, noticing the nervous look on your face, he slid his hand into yours gently. When you looked at him, he kept his face focused on his feet, “Ready, Y/n?” Taking a deep breath you nodded shakily.

“Ready, George.”

At your words, George slammed the green powder onto the ground and shouted, “Diagon Alley!”

You were sure you were going to be sick. Whatever the powder was, it had you spinning at a pace you didn’t know was possible, you had screwed your eyes shut and you were almost certain that you could feel yourself physically moving. It was only when George tugged on your hand that you opened your eyes to see that your surroundings had actually changed. “It’s horrible the first time, but you get used to it,” George said, pulling you by your still intertwined hands onto the cobbled street. The dizziness died down after only a few seconds out in the fresh air, the added sensation of George’s thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand seemed to do the trick in settling you completely as you took in the street ahead of you. It was dazzling, really. A long cobbled street, lined with shops that looked like they were plucked straight out of a fairytale. As planned, the streets were fairly empty in the early morning as George led you down the path towards the shop where you’d hopefully get your wand. The name “Olivanders” was written above both windows of the dark shop, the words “makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.” were to be seen just above the door. Excitement had completely overridden your nerves and you practically skipped towards the door, George followed casually behind you, his hands tucked into his pockets and a fond smile on his lips.

“I suppose you’re excited then?” He asked teasingly and you didn’t bother trying to hide your obvious childlike wonder as you waited for him to catch up with you.

“It probably seems silly to you, but this morning Cecillia told me all about when she got her wand and it sounded so wonderful,” you told him, smiling when he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“I don’t think it’s silly, I still get giddy thinking about the time Fred and I got wands of our own,” he pushed the door open and motioned for you to step inside, slowly you walked into the empty shop. It was dark and somewhat dingy but there was something very mystically inclining about it, you could feel the energy and it was utterly exhilarating.

“Wow,” you breathed out, spinning where you stood, gazing at the boxes upon boxes that lined the shelves.

Only a minute passed before an old man stumbled to the front of the shop, smiling at the pair of you from behind the counter, “Ah, Mr. Weasley, it’s good to see you, it’s been some time. What can I do for you this morning? I see you’ve brought a friend,” the older wizard greeted and you smiled in response.

“I’m looking for a wand. I’ve been living in the states for the past few years but I just moved home,” you lied easily, George couldn’t help but smirk, what he’d give to have had you around for some of his and Fred’s pranks at Hogwarts.

The old man nodded in understanding, his eyes scanned you, his eyes were scrutinising and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, “Interesting. One moment please,” he said, murmuring to himself as he searched the isles for what he was looking for. A small “aha” sounded from within the isles, he was back in front of you within seconds, an open rectangular box in his hand. It was absolutely gorgeous, it resembled a raw tree branch, wood spiralling up its expanse until it stopped at the top, cutting off in a jagged, dull edge. He must’ve noticed how your jaw dropped, how could he not? He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you since you’d wandered into his shop. He was an old wizard, but he wasn’t naive, he was well aware you weren’t returning from America, he could sense an energy in you that he hadn’t come in contact with in a long time. “Curious, isn’t it?” He prompted you, causing you to let out an airy laugh. Cecillia was going to tease you big time when you got back to her cabin.

“It’s lovely, what is it?” He offered you the box expectantly and you hesitantly picked up the wand with as much care as you possibly could. It was cool against your skin and was heavier than you’d imagined it would be.

“Thirteen inch, oak; cut from the base of a tree, which at the time, was almost six hundred years old,” he explained, watching happily as you ran your fingers along the wands several ridges,”With a phoenix feather core, quite a rare piece indeed. Unfortunately, this particular wand has been extremely difficult to match to a witch. But something tells me that you might be just the witch for the job,” he held your gaze and you once again got the feeling that he knew something he shouldn’t, “Go on, then. Give it a wave,” he prompted and you looked to George for further encouragement. George laughed at your lost expression, pulling his own wand out and pointing it towards the now empty box on the counter, “Like this, love,” he demonstrated, moving his wrist in a semi-circle motion, making the box levitate off the counter.

Another pet name. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach in favour of clearing your throat, squaring your shoulders and pointing your wand at the same box George had just made float, which was now settled back against the counter. Imitating the boy beside you, you moved your wrist in a swift semi-circle. Suddenly, a golden light poured from the tip of the wand and warm air surrounded you, gently blowing your hair back and forcing a laugh of disbelief to leave your lips. George stood wide eyed beside you, his lips parted slightly. He was amazed really, he went through five wands before he found the one that fit him, yet you’d found yours on the first try, and he had to admit; you looked glorious doing it.

After paying for your wand, you exited the shop, looking around George’s side at the list he was holding. From what you could make out, Cecillia had added a number of items to the originally very short list; 1) a wand, 2) a pendulum (crystal of the ladies choice), 3) crystals: labradorite, lapis lazuli & azurite, 4) mugwort, 5) new tarot deck (again, whatever she wants Sirius can afford it ;)).

“Suppose our next stop is the divination shop,” George said, mostly to himself but gave you a mischievous smile, “If we hurry up and get our shopping done fast we could probably get a butterbeer in before we rejoin the rest of the Order,” he sang, grazing his hand against yours as you walked side by side.

“Beer? You seriously want to drink beer at half eight in the morning?” You asked him, your eyebrow raised and he replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against his side and once again leaning his head down so his lips were level with your eye.

“No, you git,” he began with a laugh, “It’s not really beer, it’s pretty sweet; most wizards love it.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, “Sounds nice,” you told him absently, preoccupied with all the intriguing shops that surrounded you. George’s arm remained wrapped around your shoulder as you strolled further into Diagon Alley, seemingly uninterested in his offer for a butterbeer. The pair of you got what you needed from the shop and, since it hadn’t taken long, you decided to take George up on his drinks offer. You noticed that he seemed a little bit crestfallen since your noncommittal answer earlier.

“Hey,” you said, bumping your arm against his.

“Hello,” he replied, returning the gesture.

“So… d’you wanna go get one of those beer things that you were talking about earlier?” You asked nervously, your lip between your teeth. For all you knew, asking someone to grab a butterbeer in the wizarding world was the muggle equivalent to proposing.

George flashed you a grin that was almost childlike, it was mesmerising, so sweet and pure and you almost wished you’d brought your camera to take a picture of it. “I thought you’d never ask.”

With a giggle you let him grab your hand and lead you excitedly towards a building that had “The Leaky Cauldron” written above the door. When you got inside, George led you to a small round table with two chairs and you both sat down opposite each other. As casually as you could, you rested your elbow against the table and let your cheek rest against your fist, for a solid few minutes, while George ordered, you curiously looked around the pub until your gaze finally rested on George who was already looking at you with a soft smile, “Having fun?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You nodded your head, “Mhm, are you? I’m sure getting up at the crack of dawn to take me shopping isn’t something someone like you would usually like to do for fun,” you said, becoming slightly self conscious when you realised that he probably wasn’t enjoying the morning as much as you were. This was all normal for him, you’d nearly forgotten.

George gave you a perplexed look, “Course I’m having fun, love. But, what do you mean someone like me?”

You shrugged, once again pushing down the butterflies that arose in your stomach from the pet name, “I dunno, you’re just- you’re mischievous and fun and… I don’t know, shopping for stuff with me doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d want to do. I just hope Sirius didn’t force you into it,” you admitted shyly, smiling gratefully at the waiter when he placed the mugs of golden liquid on the table.

George chewed on his bottom lip for a second before he shook his head, “He didn’t force me. I sort of, well, I sort of forced him to let me take you. He wanted Professor Lupin to do it but I…” he let out an exaggerated sigh before giving you a smile, “I wanted to spend time with you,” he confessed sweetly, watching happily as a smile formed on your lips and you tried to hide it in the rim of your butterbeer. He laughed when your face lit up once the liquid hit your lips, “Like it?”

“This stuff is amazing,” you almost shouted, taking another large sip from the drink, “No wonder you all love it so much.”

George snickered, “Just in case it wasn’t clear; I’m having a lot of fun with you,” he said all too casually, taking a sip of his drink.

“Where to now?” You wondered, after you’d finished your drinks and set off back towards the floo network.

George shot you a cheeky look and wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m taking you back to headquarters.”

“Sounds ominous,” you commented, following him into the fireplace, nervously.

“D’you want a tip?” George asked out of the blue and you looked up at him expectantly, nodding. “The dizziness isn’t as bad if you keep your eyes open,” he whispered, taking your hand once again and throwing down the same green powder from earlier and shouting a new location that you hadn’t heard before. You cringed as the world began to spin, listening to George’s advice hadn’t helped much as the transportation was just as awful as it had been the first time. Unbeknownst to you, you were squeezing George’s hand like your life depended on it, George’s thumb had resumed brushing circles around your hand in response, the harsh squeezing didn’t bother him at all, not when it was you doing the squeezing. Just like earlier, George led you out of the fireplace and into the unfamiliar sitting room. Though the room was completely unfamiliar it was full of faces you immediately recognised, one face in particular standing out above all the rest.

In a second you’d dropped not only George’s hand, but all of your shopping bags to the floor carelessly and hurled yourself towards the boy who had already begun rushing towards you the second he caught sight of you appearing in the fireplace. Your bodies collided with so much force that you nearly sent each other tumbling to the ground, laughter sounded from both of you as you swayed the other, almost roughly, the way you always did when reuniting after an extended period of time.

“Glad to see you in one piece, Harry,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips, opting not to call him Haz in front of all of his wizard friends lest they tease him, not to mention you’d become quite possessive of the nickname, you wouldn’t be too pleased if anyone else started adopting it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“Yeah, you too,” his smile was as wide as could be when he shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” You teased, jokingly taking his cheek between your thumb and your pointer, giving the skin between them a gentle squeeze. Harry swatted your hand away with a low chuckle and unraveled his arms from around you.

“Alright, you two, if you’re ready we have some matters we need to discuss with our newest member,” Sirius’ voice sounded from behind you, a knowing look on his face as he watched Harry sneakily pinch your arm in retaliation. He had to fight the urge he felt to reminisce on his old school days; when he’d purposely annoy James, Remus or Peter and receive the exact same mockingly vengeful look that you’d just given Harry.

“I’ll bring your things to the kitchen,” George announced, reminding you of his presence before he walked rather quickly out of the room, bags clutched in his hands.

Harry snorted out a laugh when Sirius followed George out of the room, leaving the both of you alone. Harry wiggled his eyebrows and did his best to make his voice take on a sultry tone, “he’s bringing your things to the kitchen.”

“Shut your mouth, Potter,” you replied, pinching his cheek for the second time and tossing your arm around his shoulder, him doing the same as he led you to what you assumed was the kitchen.

“Do I have your permission to open my mouth to tell you something,” Harry asked lightly, stopping so you were both standing outside a closed wooden door.

“I’ll allow it,” you answered, smiling softly at your best friend.

Harry grinned, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Haz,” the boy groaned at the name but made no further comment, he pushed the wooden door open and walked inside.

The room held a long table where many adults were sat, chatting in hushed whispers when you entered the room, some of whom you recognised and some you didn’t. Mrs. Weasley was fluttering about the table, filling people’s tea cups before she spotted you. The woman, who you’d only ever met briefly at King’s Cross station one year, rushed over to you and greeted you warmly, “Hello, dear! Come, come sit down!” She ushered you to a vacant chair beside George and across from Fred, Harry took the seat on your other side. “I trust you got everything you needed from Diagon Alley? I hope that son of mine didn’t cause any trouble for you,” you gave her a friendly smile and shook your head.

“Yes, we were able to find what we needed and George was very helpful,” Mrs. Weasley, seemingly satisfied with your answer, offered a gentle smile to you and George. She then pushed a cup of tea towards you before sitting down herself.

Beneath the table George bumped his knee lightly against yours, but didn’t break from his conversation with his twin as he left his knee pressed against yours. You didn’t draw attention to it either, simply letting your knee relax against his as the witches and wizards at the long table grew quiet in favour of staring at you wordlessly.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the news of the seer we’ve acquired,” Sirius’ commanding voice broke the silence as he stood up from his chair, and placed his palms against the table, “I’ve brought her here today so that we may discuss proceedings to ensure her safety.”

“Yes,” a toneless drawl, drawn out nasally from the end of the table drew your attention to a black haired man at the opposite end of the table, “and what of Mr. Potter’s presence?” He asked, almost menacingly. Right off the bat, you didn’t like the greasy haired man. He was rigid and his face sported a permanent snarl and from across the table you could already tell; he wasn’t on your side.

“She’s my best friend, I’m here to make sure she’s not going to be put in any unnecessary danger,” Harry told the man shortly, in a tone that he’d more than likely perfected after having spoken to the man previously.

“As touching as that may be,” the older man snarled, “you are not a member of the Order.”

“Oh, enough, Serverus,” Sirius scoffed, pulling his hand down his face in exasperation before he let his eyes settle on Harry, “Perhaps you should wait upstairs for now. We’ll let you know of any significant updates.”

“I’ll tell you everything later, promise,” you whispered quietly, linking his pinky with yours beneath the table before he stropily took his leave.

“As I was saying,” Sirius spared Severus a glare and continued, “As we know, Yn is an unregistered wizard with an unregistered wand, meaning she won’t be on the radar of The Ministry of Magic. On the downside of this, seeing as her power manifested late, she is also untrained.”

All gazes fell to you once more, only Remus’ eyes were staring softly, crinkled at the edges from the smile on his lips, “I’ll be tutoring her in Defence Against the Dark Arts over the summer. She’ll catch up quickly, no doubt,” you smiled gratefully at him from your spot, relaxing a bit knowing that you’d actually be learning how to defend yourself the wizard way.

“I suppose I will be tasked with teaching the art of Occlumency? A seer with an easily accessible mind is hardly an asset,” Severus drawled. You didn’t have a clue what occlumency was, in all honesty, but you kept your mouth shut in favour of asking Remus when the meeting was over.

The meeting soon drew to a close, the older Order members slinking to one end of the table to arrange the schedule for your glorified summer school while you, Fred and George snuck away to find Harry. You found him sitting against the headboard of a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, “How’d it go?”

“Take a guess, mate, Snape had a right sour look on his face the whole time,” Fred answered, sitting on the bed across from Harry’s. George sat beside him and you made your way to sit with Harry.

“Ah, so that was the infamous professor Snape?” All three boys nodded, looks of exhaustion on their faces, “I don’t trust him. Something is very off about him,” you spoke thoughtfully and the boys nodded in agreement once again.

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him,” George said, his brows furrowed.

Fred snorted and clapped his twin roughly on the shoulder, “Getting a bit jealous are you, Georgie?” Harry laughed along with Fred while you blushed lightly and George felt heat rising up the nape of his neck.

“Sod off,” he muttered, but made no attempt to deny that he was slightly jealous of all the alone time his old evil potions professor would be getting with the girl he was harbouring feelings for.

The afternoon quickly turned into the evening and before long you were gathering your things and preparing to return to Cecillia’s. Harry would be heading back to the Dursley’s later that night, much to his dismay. You told him you’d be back on Privet Drive at some point the next morning since Cecillia would be dropping you home, as she promised your parents, so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone for too long.

That summer came and went in a bit of a blur. Two days in each week were spent learning how to protect yourself against the dark arts with Remus. He’s an amazing teacher, that couldn’t be disputed. In the space of only two months he had you duelling like you’d been doing it since the day you were born. Of course, you were thrilled to be bonding with your wand and developing (according to Remus) a very impressive skill for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But, on top of that, the shared conversations and exchanging of stories over hefty mugs of hot chocolate with the werewolf had been a huge highlight of your summer, and had caused the two of you to grow exponentially closer.

September was nearing and with it came a stiff breeze that prompted the hair on your arms to stand alert as you waited by the bus stop, the one just down the road from your house. Today was to be an important lesson with Remus, he hadn’t told you what the lesson would entail, but he had said that it was a charm that was “of the utmost importance”.

Although June, July and August were technically your summer holidays, you’d barely had a second to rest. You were, at this point, running on fumes and sheer will power. Extensively using magic was bound to wear you out, however, getting a good night’s rest after a gruelling training session had become something of a luxury for you. Visions of the future and retellings of past torments plagued your dreams and allowed you no time to rest. One vision in particular had been reoccurring, it arrived every night for the past two weeks, taunting you. The autumn chill that dripped down your spine reminded you of the premonition, having your hairs standing due to fright, rather than cold. It was always the same, no details ever shifted or warped and, unfortunately, the experience never grew any less harrowing. The warning that the vision brought about weighed on you heavily and followed you around like a stray cat. Images of a cold, desolate, blue-hued cellar lived behind your eyes, the phantom feeling of freezing metal shackles weighed on your wrists painfully and the undiluted terror combined with the indescribable agony brought about by the unfamiliar wand shoved against your throat had you forcing yourself to stay awake until you physically couldn’t anymore, each and every night. Nobody knew about the vision, you didn’t want to worry them, though, you knew that your distress was beginning to become visible; dark bags were prominent beneath your eyes, Harry had watched you fall asleep in the middle of the day, often on his shoulder, almost everyday that week and Remus could tell by the sluggish movements of your wand that your mind was elsewhere.

A few minutes passed before your bus arrived, the journey to Grimmauld Place was quite long but you couldn’t seem to warm up to floo travel, so going on a regular bus was the better option. When the red double decker pulled up, you greeted the driver with a smile and paid for your ticket. You made your way up to the second story and sat right at the front. The bus, as it normally tended to be, was empty. Resting your head against the window, you let your eyes slip shut, the noises of tree branches brushing against the speeding windows lulling you into a, hopefully, peaceful sleep.

Thankfully when you woke up, no visions lingered. You woke up just in time too as the bus was rounding up to your stop. As usual, Remus waited for you at the bus stop, his hands shoved deep in his tattered jacket pockets and a gentle smile on his lips.

Still groggy from your nap, when you exited the bus you greeted Remus with a tired wave.

“Dare I say you haven’t been sleeping well, dear?” He said gently, walking alongside you towards the house.

You thought about it for a second, perhaps telling someone wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “I’ve just, well, I’ve been having this nightmare,” you started, growing nervous just thinking about it.

“Nightmare or vision?” He pressed as you walked into the house.

Guilt creeped into your chest upon seeing the clear worry on his face, “I think it’s a vision.”

Remus nodded quietly, placing his hand on the small of your back and pushing you in the direction of the living room. He gave you a warm smile, when you sat down on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it over your lap. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we can discuss this,” he suggested.

“I thought you had an important lesson for today?” He only shook his head, smiling lightly.

He made his way to the door wordlessly and returned within two minutes with two big, steaming mugs in his hands. Remus handed you a mug and sat down beside you on the sofa, accepting your invitation to pull the blanket over his lap too.

“Now tell me; what has been going on in that wonderful mind of yours?”

You took in a deep breath, staring into the hot chocolate and avoiding his understanding gaze, “It happened for the first time around two weeks ago. I thought that it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like a dream but I thought that if I kept telling myself it was I would start to believe it,” you started, taking a sip of your drink before going back to staring at it, “But it kept coming back. Every night for the last two weeks. I haven’t been able to sleep, I’ve been too scared to,” your voice was small as you made the confession. You hated that the feeling of helplessness was beginning to wash over you yet again.

“What happens in this vision?” At his question, you placed your cup on the floor and turned to face him fully, turning on the sofa and pulling your knees up to your chest.

“It’s always the same. I wake up and the first thing I know is that I’m absolutely freezing. I’m in this cellar-like thing. I’m chained up by my wrists and my feet are barely touching the ground… I can’t see anyone but I can feel-“ your breath hitched and you rushed the swipe the tears that were falling away from your cheeks, “I can feel a wand against my throat, it’s pressing hard. There’s a whisper, it’s quiet and ghostly and I can barely make it out but I hear them say; crucio.”

Remus’ eyes widened in horror.

“Then I feel nothing but agonising pain and then I wake up,” Remus’ eyebrows furrowed.

“You’ve had this same vision every night?” You nodded.

“I know I should have said something but I didn’t want anyone to worry,” it was then that Remus grabbed your hands and looked at you with a sense of urgency you didn’t know he could possess.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” his eyes were wild and his hands shook lightly as they held yours, “You-Know-Who is back. There are already reports of certain Wizards going missing and none of us have any doubt that it’s his doing. And although I- we- care for you a great deal, it would serve us all well to remember that you’re a detrimental piece in this war. If he catches wind of you, he’ll stop at nothing to take you from us,” your heart was now running at the speed of a hummingbird. “We have a plan in place to keep you safe, I fear we may have to implement it sooner than planned.”

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Order of the Phoenix, all of whom looked grave. Cecillia sat to your right while Nymphadora Tonks occupied the seat to your left. You had the pink haired auror to thank for your duelling capabilities, as well as Remus of course. Her presence was comforting, she made it a point to shoot you a wink every time she caught your eyes looking more fearful than usual.

“Our original plan will need to be tweaked, I ran into Narcissa Malfoy in Diagon Alley and she very plainly insinuated that I was a person of interest in the death eating community,” Cecillia informed the table, a, for lack of a better word, bitchy tone laced in her voice. She’d told you many of her Hogwarts stories, you could recall her telling you that she and the woman she’d mentioned, Narcissa, had once been good friends until around their fourth year. She hadn’t told you what exactly had happened, only that it had been messy.

“What was the original plan?” You asked, growing frustrated with the Order’s lack of communication skills.

Thankfully, being one of the younger members of the group, Tonks understood your frustrations and spoke up on behalf of the group, regardless of whether they were ready for you to know or not; she understood that it was your life they were coordinating.

“We talked about relocating you to CeCe’s. We also, and far more pressingly, planned on erasing all traces of you from both the muggle and wizard world. Which would mean using a memory charm on your family and friends in the muggle world,” Tonks explained, eyes locked on yours while everyone else in the room glared daggers at the purple haired girl.

“Yes. Though we also planned on telling you this information with a far more delicate approach,” Snapped Molly Weasley from the end of the table, causing Fred, who sat to her left, to roll his eyes.

“She’s been riddled with visions of being ruthlessly tortured with an unforgivable curse for the past two weeks. I think the time for delicacy is long passed,” the older of the two twins practically scoffed. George nodded in agreement.

“Besides,” he set his gaze on you, eyes genuine and unwavering as he spoke, “she’s strong enough to handle the truth. It’s time you all stopped acting like she isn’t.”

The table fell silent. His words hung in the air as many of the adults hung their heads.

“By memory charm I’m assuming you mean obliviate?” You broke the silence, if you could you hoped to start an open conversation with the experienced witches and wizards that surrounded you.

“Yes. They’re completely reversible and once the war is over I’ll restore all of the memories.” Cecillia said.

“We know it’s a huge ask, dear, but it’s our best chance at keeping you out of that wretched creature’s hands,” Molly attempted to soothe both you and herself when she pictured what it would like to be in your shoes, how she’d feel if she had no other choice but to be forgotten by the thing she valued the most; her family. Molly Weasley had never been very good at hiding her maternal instincts, over the summer that fact had become glaringly obvious to you. You and Harry had laughed about how the children of Privet Drive had a special place in her heart.

“I understand,” you told her sadly, chewing on the inside of your lip, “I’m guessing by the atmosphere in the room that I won’t be home to say goodbye before you wipe their memories,” you shifted yours eyes from person to person, stopping when Cecillia took your hand firmly in hers.

Her lips were downturned and her eyes filled with guilt, she shook her head mournfully, “I’m afraid we can’t risk it, my darling. Even being here places you in danger at the moment.”

“Where will she go then? If CeCe’s place isn’t an option we’ll have to find a safe house,�� Sirius sounded and, simultaneously, both Fred and George stood up, shoulder to shoulder with very professional expressions on their faces.

“We may be able to help with that, actually. George, if you would,” Fred started, nodding to his twin who straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out over so slightly.

“Thank you, Fred. As you know, we have a property for Weasley Wizard Wheezes secured and we’ll be living in the flat above where the shop will be,” everyone at the table, including yourself, stared at the twins in confusion, not quite sure where they were going with their little pitch until Fred took over again.

“And that flat has three bedrooms,” he said, a smirk growing on his thin lips.

George spoke again, “Which means there’s one for me and one for Fred.”

“Which means there’s one spare,” Fred grinned wickedly.

Tonks let out an impressed laugh once the penny finally dropped, “We apparate her in and nobody would ever know a thing. Nobody other than those of us in the room know that Y/n is a friend of the Weasley’s, plus us visiting the joke shop wouldn’t raise any suspicion. I have to give it to them, it’s a great idea,”

“And one of the two of us will always be within shouting distance if anything happens,” George added, somewhat pleadingly.

Sirius looked across the table at you, “Y/n, it’s up to you. Whatever you decide will be final, we won’t interfere,” he promised sincerely. It was an easy decision, but still, it weighed heavily on your chest. In all honesty, you weren’t worried about your location, staying with the twins would surely be a light and fun time amidst all the doom and gloom. Your worry was that you would, once again, be handing over your control. Sirius dressed it up as though it was your choice, but you knew that this was probably their best option and in reality you really had no other choice than to move in with Fred and George.

“Sounds good to me,” you whispered halfheartedly, eyes dropping to stare at your lap as your teeth pulled anxiously at the skin of your lips.

“So it’s settled then,” Remus said, “Y/n will go with Fred and George tonight.”

Abruptly, you pushed your chair away from the table and stood up. Sparing nobody a glance, you left the room as quickly as you possibly could, before the lump in your throat could choke you or the tears that pooled in your eyes spilled like water through a broken dam. George made a move to rise from his seat only for Remus to stop him by placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Give her a moment.”

You found yourself locked in the second story bathroom, sitting in the bath. Your legs hung out over the side of the tub while your head was tilted back against the black tiled wall. As hard as you tried to prevent them, tears were streaming down the expense of your cheeks, neck and beneath the neckline of your shirt. The minutes ticked by yet your chest continued to rise and fall rapidly due to the sobs that shook it, your breath uneven. Visions of brutal torture were bad enough when you were in your own home, in your own warm bed, with your parents just a room away and ready to make you a hot cup of tea after you woke up screaming. Now, the visions would without a doubt continue to plague you, unlike before though, you wouldn’t be waking up in a familiar setting, nor would you fall asleep in the comfort of your own mattress, when you woke up screaming so loud that your throat grew raw, your comfort would rely on two seventeen year old boys who seldom took things seriously. It’s not that you didn’t trust them, no, you trusted them with your life- you are trusting them with your life, it’s just that there was already a lot going on in your mind at the moment, moving in with your crush and his identical twin brother isn’t exactly your idea of a nerve killer.

A knock against the bathroom door pulled you from your thoughts. You rushed to wipe your tears with your sleeves, sniffling, “Come in,” you choked out. Cursing your voice for breaking when you spoke.

Remus’ head poked through the door, his body following soon after. Even in an atmosphere as dense as this one, a sense of gentle calm always followed Remus wherever he went. Clumsily, the werewolf slid into the bath beside you with a low “oof” sound, mimicking your position with his much longer legs dangling closer to the wooden floor than your own.

“CeCe has gone to collect your things for you and get Harry, then, I believe, perform the spell,” he eyed you cautiously, hyper aware of your glassy eyes and puffy face. When your eyes widened and you whipped your face towards him, his stomach twisted into knots, he hated seeing you like this. He could sympathise with your feelings. When James and Lily were killed, and Sirius went to Azkaban and even when Peter was presumed dead, Remus had been left with a vicious frustration fuelled by his belief that he was utterly powerless in his own life. He could see in your eyes that that same notion was starting to creep up on you too.

“Already?” You gasped out, pulse rising again, a slight panic setting in. “It won’t hurt them will it? The spell?” You fretted, looking pleadingly to the man beside you.

He shook his head, tenderly taking your hand and placing it against his clothed chest, his beating heart present against the palm of your shaking hand. “I promise you that they won’t feel a thing. They will go on living an exciting life, travelling, seeing the world safely while you’re away. When this is all over we’ll place their memories of you back in their minds and it will be as though you were never gone.” Your teeth found the inside of your cheek again, gnawing relentlessly at the skin as you failed miserably to hold back a fresh set of tears. Remus squeezed the hand he held against his chest. “Let it out, Y/n. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered, heart sinking lower when your bottom lip quivered and you let a rasped sob leave your body. With a deep sigh, Remus used the hand he was already holding as leverage to pull you into him, wasting no time he enveloped you in his arms, holding you securely as you cried against his chest. Admittedly, it felt good to let it out, Remus’ hand rubbed soothing circles against your heaving back and eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you calmed down, your tear ducts all dried out.

Remus held you in his arms for a while longer, even though you’d stopped crying, he could feel your body as it continued to shake. “I can’t promise you it will all be okay, but I can assure you that myself and Sirius, and everyone else for that matter, will be there for you at the drop of a hat; whatever you need,” he spoke against your hair.

“Whatever I need?” You echoed, the pit in your stomach ever growing.

“Of course,” he confirmed.

Remus startled slightly when you suddenly tore yourself away from him. As best you could in your awkward position, you turned to face him and grabbed his hands with as much urgency as he had done with yours. “I need you to do something for me,” Remus furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded his head anyway.

“If anything happens to me… Don’t make them remember,” you instructed, maybe the request would’ve seemed radical if you had said it to anyone else, but you knew that Remus had experienced losses like no one else you knew, perhaps Harry came close but even his shortcomings couldn’t compare to Remus’. “It’d only cause them pain. If I die and they’re happily living none the wiser, leave them be, please,” the man let out a heavy sigh and took a moment to take you in. Your eyes were hard yet pleading, they left him no room to negotiate and he understood perfectly where you were coming from.

“Alright,” he agreed before raising his eyebrow and readjusting himself to get a better look at you, “However you should know; no matter what may come of this war, none of us will forget about you. In such a short time you’ve given us so much… you gave Harry his first friendship, a friendship that he cherishes more than anything in the world, I might add. You saved Sirius from death, my fiancé and Harry’s godfather. Mentoring you has given Cecillia a new lease of life and Molly Weasley one more child to knit jumpers for at Christmas,” he took a brief pause then went on, “For the sake of saving time I won’t even begin to tell you what you mean to the twins. My point is;” there was a melancholic type of smile on his face when he paused again, as if he was imagining what it would be like to remember you fondly if you did in fact die for the cause, “What you’re asking is incredibly selfless. And while your mother and father may not remember how wonderful you are, we all will.” Remus chuckled lowly when you shuffled your way back into his arms, squeezing his middle tightly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and delicately pressed his lips to the top of your head. You held so much love in your heart for the man who was currently cradling you in his arms. You debated telling him, you weren’t sure if it was entirely appropriate but after the speech he’d just given you couldn’t have cared less, “Remus?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you murmured, looking up at him innocently.

He offered you a toothy smile and breathed out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” With a content nod, you rested your head back against his chest, enjoying his soothing heartbeats against your ear. A melodic hum rumbled against your cheek, a quiet giggle left your mouth when you recognised the melody to the song he was humming. The tune of “Rhiannon” by Fleetwood Mac floated through the bathroom bringing a genuine smile to your lips. The werewolf’s humming was interrupted by another knock against the bathroom door, whoever was knocking didn’t wait for a response before entering the room. Sirius stepped in and quietly shut the door behind him. He didn’t question you and Remus' position in the bath but simply slid into the tub on the other side of you, sandwiching you between himself and Remus. The black haired man let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the tiles.

“The mother hens downstairs are worrying up a storm,” he said in exasperation, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tonks so riled up about someone’s safety. I tasked Molly with making you some hot chocolate to keep her occupied”

“Maybe I should go back down…” you muttered halfheartedly, begrudgingly peeling yourself away from Remus’ warm body.

Sirius gave you an apologetic look, “I held them off for as long as I could.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, bumping your shoulder to his, making him chuckle. After pulling yourself out of the bath, rather clumsily, you took a second to check yourself over in the mirror.

“You’re glowing, darling,” Sirius all but sang from behind you and you couldn’t stop the slight snort that escaped you.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“If you don’t believe me go on downstairs and ask George what he thinks,” Sirius teased, wiggling his eyebrows and receiving a light shove from his fiancé who couldn’t hide his grin.

“Leave her alone, love,” he chastised weakly, “You look perfectly fine, Y/n. Go downstairs and get something to drink, you need to rehydrate.” A bittersweet smile broke out on your lips, his fatherly tone simultaneously soothed you and left you yearning for what you were in the process of losing. Trying not to dwell on the sad fact, you left the bathroom and slowly descended the stairs.

As you assumed, the second you stepped back into the kitchen, Molly began to fret over you as if her life depended on it. Sipping on the hot chocolate she’d given you, you were reminded of how desperately tired you were. All the crying hadn’t helped ease the heaviness in your eyes either. Every bone in your body felt heavy for that matter, you were struggling to even hold your head up.

“You can lean against my shoulder if you’d like,” George’s voice broke you from your hazed state, you’d completely forgotten he was sitting beside you despite his leg that was pressed against yours beneath the table. You gave him a sleepy but grateful smile, as subtly as you could you scooched closer to the ginger and slotted yourself against his side, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “Will you keep me awake until Harry and Cecillia get here?” You requested in a slurred murmur, your eyes fluttering between open and shut.

“Of course,” was all he said, he looked down at you adoringly, smiling like an idiot when you nuzzled into his shoulder, your nose rubbing against his neck. Try as he might, George couldn’t pull his eyes away from your drowsy face. “What do you propose we do?”

You shrugged your shoulders lightly, “Just talk.”

“How would you like your new room decorated?” He asked quietly, his head tilted down while he spoke to you, so you could hear him and so he wouldn’t ruin the lulled bubble you’d managed to obtain between you by talking too loudly. A sweet smile grew on your face, a smile that all but knocked all the breath out of George’s lungs when you angled your head to make eye contact.

“Can I have a double bed?” George snorted at your question and shook his head no.

“Nothing smaller than a king. What else?”

You pretended to ponder for a moment, “Can we paint it?” The ginger nodded, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“If you want to,” he started, almost sounding nervous, “We could paint it together?” Even in your sleep deprived state you hadn’t missed the vulnerability in his voice, it was the same vulnerability that you’d noticed when he’d asked you to go get a butterbeer with him a couple of months ago.

“I’d love that,” you told him, your answer causing his lips to twist into a pleased smile, “How do you feel about the colour green?”

Immediately, his smile dropped and he let out a disgusted scoff, “Green is a Slytherin colour.”

“You keep forgetting that I don’t get the whole house sorty thing,” you reminded him, not happy with his reasoning for hating your favourite colour. “Besides, I love green, it’s my favourite colour.” You told him truthfully. Not content with his disgruntled facial expression you began to defend your preference, “A lot of beautiful things are green; you’ve got grass, trees, emeralds- did you know that emeralds are really useful for enhancing psychic abilities? It also evokes clarity of thought,” you rambled, willing yourself to be quiet when you registered George’s fond expression.

The look of endearment aimed at you brought butterflies to life in your stomach, effectively waking you up somewhat.

“Do you have any emerald?” He asked, you assumed he was only feigning interest, you didn’t know that he could’ve listened to you go on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.

“No, not yet. I should probably get some though.” You said through a yawn. Your breath against his neck made him giggle, it was pure and unsuspecting but you took note of it. Everything about George Weasley felt like sunshine to you, his laugh filled your chest with warmth whenever you heard it, his eyes found yours like a lighthouse, guiding your lost mind back to the present each time your gazes connected. His voice, like his laugh, warmed you up when you were cold, giving you a reason to stay awake when you’d rather just slip away. In conjunction with the sun, even if you couldn’t physically see him, you never doubted that he was always there. As well as all of that, like your favourite tarot card; The Sun, he signified good things, hope that hard times will end with you on top, contentment and happiness. While your thoughts consisted of George’s similarities to the sun, his were consumed with the, in his mind, overwhelmingly cheesily romantic notion that you were the moon and the stars, he would’ve cringed if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe it. Everything that made the night sky magnificent was reflected in you. Like the stars, you were mysterious and captivating. Nothing seemed to compare to your glow or beauty, if you were to ask him what he preferred; you or the night sky on a clear night, he’d happily ignore a blank, starless sky in favour of simply staring at you as you went on tangent after tangent about crystals or tarot cards.

The pair of you were pulled from your musings when Harry rushed through the kitchen door looking unmistakably heartbroken, ever the empath when it came to his best friend, Harry’s heart sank the moment he laid eyes on your form, limp against George’s side. The second you saw him you all but ripped yourself from George’s side and the older redhead felt a surge of irrational jealousy begin to build in his chest at how fast you left his hold in favour of the chosen one. He knew it was ridiculous, he’d heard the way each of you respectively talked about each other, at this point you were practically siblings. But he supposed it was rational to be jealous when you liked someone the way he liked you.

Quickly, you crossed the room to Harry who had his arms already outstretched. He knew you were emotionally exhausted when you didn’t bear hug him. You meekly slid your arms beneath his open zip-up hoodie, tucked your head beneath his chin and didn’t say a word. “I shouldn’t bother asking if you’re okay then,” Harry muttered to himself, leaning his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his lanky arms around your frame.

“Did Cecillia remember to bring Astra?” You asked, it was all you wanted to know about the night’s events.

“She’s in her cage in the living room, darling,” Cecilia said, walking into the room looking guilty.

“C’mon, let’s go have a chat,” Harry suggested, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs to his unofficial room. Once inside the room you sat down on the edge of the bed, the blue duvet softly creasing beneath you. Harry plopped himself down beside you and offered you a gesture that was always saved for when either of you felt the other was on the edge of something dangerous. Your hands rested against your lap and he deftly slid his pinky over yours, intertwining your two littlest fingers. It was such a familiar experience; he’d done it when your grandparents died, when you’d cried over failed exams that you worked hard for, and in turn, you did it for him when he’d felt as though he had no place in the world, when he’d open up about his parents and when Cedric died and the ministry dragged his name through the mud you’d find your pinky tangled with his almost every night after he’d sneak over to your place after another nightmare or panic attack. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “Not tonight. I don’t want to cry anymore,” you croaked out, looking straight ahead of you at the grey painted wall.

“I understand,” he said, sighing and dropping his head onto your shoulder, “Let’s talk about something else then.”

“Like what, Haz?”

Harry snorted out a chuckle, “Like the way George looked like he wanted to hex me when you left him to come to me,” he teased, a smug lilt to his voice.

“He wasn’t teasing me, perhaps I’ll go back to him,” you grumbled, ignoring Harry’s childish giggles.

“Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smacked his arm lightly with your free hand, doing a bad job of containing giggles of your own. “Don’t worry, since he’s going to be your new roommate there will be plenty of time for “oh George I’m so sleepy, please hold me until I fall asleep”,” you let out a cackle at Harry’s terrible impression of your voice, laying your cheek against his wild hair.

“That is so not what was going on, Haz,” you defended with a tiny smile.

Harry let out an airy, disbelieving chuckle, “Then what was going on?”

“He just said I could lean on him until you and Cecillia arrived and we just started chatting about how I wanna decorate my room,” you explained truthfully and Harry nodded.

“Riveting,” he mumbled sarcastically. Despite his snarky comment, the boy removed his head from your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “Jokes aside, I’m glad you’re staying with him, I know he’ll look after you for me,” you rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

“I don’t need to be looked after,” you reminded him, looking up at him with a chastising smile.

He rolled his eyes right back at you, jostling you slightly in his arms, “No. But you like to be.”

You threw your head back in laughter, “Yeah, I suppose I do.” You did. You quite like both doting on people and being doted on, you’d grown up in an affectionate family so it was no wonder really.

“It’s getting late. We should get you settled into your new home,” Harry announced, pulling himself and you up from the bed, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you look terrible. You need sleep.”

“Thank you, Harry. Just what every girl wants to hear before moving in with her crush,” you joked, gently hitting your hip against his.

The kitchen was quiet when you returned, it seemed everyone had grown tired from the dramatic events of the evening.

“Ready to go then?” Fred asked, his coat already on and a handful of your bags in his hands.

“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

After saying goodbye to everyone you, Fred and George traveled to their apartment by floo, to your dismay. The apartment was bare as they’d only just moved in but you could see it had lots of potential for becoming a cozy home for the twins.

As your first night in your new residence began, your aching eyes and tired mind didn’t leave you with any time to dwell on current events, the second your head made contact with the pillow you were out like a light. A dreamless slumber welcomed you for a while until your peace was broken by the all too familiar nightmare.

The first thing you recognised was the burn coming from your wrists. Shackles adorned them and effectively held your hands high above your head, stretching them uncomfortably. Goosebumps painted the expanse of your arms and legs, due to the freezing temperature in the nondescript cellar. A feeling of hopelessness planted firmly in your chest, the feeling only hightening when the familiar echo of footsteps, heavy and loud, drifted from the corridor outside of your field of vision. You knew who was approaching, you’ve lived this before, and so, you held your lip between your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut. The face of the dark wizard who always brought about your intense suffering was, for the most part, completely fuzzy, unrecognisable, featureless and bone-chillingly terrifying. You’d learned over the last two weeks of having this vision that it was less harrowing if you closed your eyes.

“I’ll ask you once more,” The voice was distorted, like it was being heard through a weedy radio, ominously unplaceable, “Where is he?”

You held no control over your voice, as was the norm during visions, as you felt and heard yourself reply, “I’ll tell you once more; I’d sooner die then sell him to you.” You felt your teeth gritting and your jaw clenching while you spoke. Jaw only tightening when the pointed tip of the wizard’s wand stabbed unforgivingly against the column of your neck.

“And die you will, my dear. But not yet-“ your eyes sealed themselves shut and you did your best to shake yourself out of the vision before what you knew was coming took place, as usual, your attempts were fruitless, “-Crucio.” Just like that your body was consumed by pain, the likes of which you’d never imagined possible, until you couldn’t even register yourself screaming anymore.

You bolted upright, clutching at the sheets of your new bed. Laboured breaths left your mouth and you aimlessly gripped at your neck, where the wand had been pressed, and let the tears spill freely. Momentarily disoriented, you’d forgotten where you were. Deep, heavy bursts of air left your mouth as you hastily scurried out of bed and towards the door. Somewhat aimlessly, you gravitated to the door across the hall. A yellow hue seeped from under the frame into the otherwise dark hallway. Light flooded the hall once you managed to fumble the handle down and pull the door ajar, a discombobulated ginger greeting you with half lidded eyes, obviously having been dozing off before you disturbed his peace.

“Sorry,” you rasped once your peace of mind returned to you and you realised where you were. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t have been standing numbly in his doorway, your feet seemed to be rooted in place, you couldn’t have walked away if you wanted to.

“S’alright,” George called out to you softly, sitting up in his bed, his back against the headboard. “You can come in, you know.”

Shutting the door behind you, you nervously shuffled into the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed. George’s eyes roamed your face and he took notice of your still somewhat panicked expression, he drew his covers to the side and patted the empty space by his side. Something that always intrigued you was people’s preferred side of the bed, some people gravitated towards the left while others were more biased towards the right, but George Weasley? He slept right in the middle. The twin slept with a huge number of pillows, to the point where it was almost laughable, many of which you could only guess he’d smuggled from the Burrow.

Far too wound up to save face, you slid into his bed and didn’t shy away when he guided you into his side and tucked you tenderly beneath his lean arm. His embrace offered a greatly appreciated warmth as the chill of the dank dungeon always lingered long after the vision itself was over.

“What’re you doing up so late?” You asked, your voice gravelly. As you spoke, George effortlessly shuffled your body and his down so that your backs were resting on the mattress and not the headboard. Your head found it’s home against George’s shoulder and your hair was being tentatively twirled between his fingers.

“It’s our first night actually sleeping here. I couldn’t get to sleep,” he explained, his voice low and laced with fatigue. “I’m not really used to having my own room. It’s strange not hearing Freddie snoring or breathing.”

“I get that,” you whispered, “it’s quite comforting knowing for certain that someone is there with you.”

George nodded then. His eyes were glued to your face and he hadn’t even registered his own thought process before his lips were pressing delicately against your forehead. Today had appeared to be the day for laying all your cards out on the table, yourself and George hadn’t danced around your feelings for each other half as much as you usually did when you’d be in each other’s presence. Neither of you had the energy anymore, besides, if today’s events proved anything it was that; things were getting seriously messy as the war built momentum and it was clear that time was something that could very well be running out.

“Yeah,” he regarded you carefully, a little grin growing on his lips, “It is.”

A comfortable silence overtook the room. George’s twirling of your hair never ceased, every now and then his fingers would ghost over your shoulder and you’d catch yourself smiling against the cotton of his shirt as your eyes grew tired enough that they were close to falling shut.

Just as you were working up the motivation to lift yourself up and trudge back to your own bed, George spoke, “You can sleep here if you want, with me,” there was that innocent vulnerability again. There was never an ulterior motive when it came to him, he did things purely for the sake of making others happy, if he felt he could make a difference he simply needed to. Especially when it came to you, he realised.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, daring to peek up at him.

“Course not. I could use some company anyway.” He reassured you, his lips returning to your forehead, only this time the action held far more intention. “You don’t snore do you, love?”

You snorted out a giggle, looking up at the ginger cheekily, mischief dripping from your little grin that forced George’s heart to stutter rather violently and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. “No. But I drool.”

George’s face contorted, his nose scrunching up adorably in disgust, “Do you really?”

“Suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” You teased and he sighed deeply, his disgruntled expression melting into a soft, adoring smile.

“I should’ve expected this, I knew you couldn’t have been completely perfect,” he said, mockingly sorrowful.

You scoffed, pushing his chest lightly, “You’re doing a lot of sweet talking tonight, Mr. Weasley,” you told him and he shrugged innocently.

“Just wanted to see you smiling again, darling.”

“Yeah, well, you’re doing a good job,” you assured him, the bashful yet tired smile that stretched your lips as you gazed up at him proved that you meant what you’d just said. “I like it by the way, the sweet talking.”

At your words, a huge, shit eating smirk grew on the boy’s freckled face. He managed to rearrange your bodies so that you were still tucked under his arm but you were now facing each other at eye level. “I knew it,” he proclaimed cockily.

You raised a challenging eyebrow, biting back a smirk, “Oh did you?”

George nodded pridefully, “‘Course I did. You see, I’m a little bit psychic,” his words forced a booming laugh from your lips, your cheeks hurting from the smile he’d orchestrated.

You shook your head, smile never dulling as you let out a chastising whisper, “oh sod off.”

“I love your smile,” he said suddenly, his eyes widened in horror when he realised he’d uttered the words out loud. The world could’ve stopped in that moment and you wouldn’t have noticed, all you could take in was George’s face, his eyes searching yours for something.

Carefully, you slid from hand from his chest to his red, blushing face. You cupped his cheek gently, moving your thumb against his cheek bone, almost swooning where you lay when he nuzzled against your touch. Working up some Gryffindor courage, George mimicked your movement, removing his arm from around your shoulder and bringing his palm to rest against the curve of your jaw.

As you stared at each other, you weighed up the pros and cons of telling him that you were completely head over heels for him. Your decision, apparently taking far too long, was made for you when George tugged you impossibly closer to him.

“I wasn’t going to tell you… you’ve had so much going on I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, brown eyes boring into your soul.

“Tell me what?”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for every possible outcome that may spring once the words on the tip of his tongue are spoken aloud, “That I love you.”

#george weasley x reader #harry potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #fred weasly x reader

[wroetospotterwp]

death eater x harry???? oR SOMEONE ELSE IDK AH

Dark Red

Pairing ✨: Harry Potter x Death Eater!Reader (Fem!) (also implies that reader isn’t in gryffindor n also set during OOTP)

Summary 💓: Y/N has been forced by her parents to follow in their footsteps and join the death eaters, it doesn’t help that her boyfriend is Harry Potter.

Word Count 🖊: 2,613

A/N 🗣: FIRST REQUEST FROM THE LEGEND HERSELF 🤌🤌 she first sent me an edit on tiktok and she was like idea, so we’ve went for it, also first song imagine! all the lyrics i’ll be using will be in italics but i’ve had to change pronouns to fit harry :)

Warnings ⚠️: swearing and made my heart ache a little, manipulation

Requested? 📮: yes! :)

Masterlist

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The rain was pelting hard against the window in Y/N’s dorm, the loudness of the rain drops smashing against the glass had awoken the girl from her slumber. She sat up from bed and leaned against her headboard.

Rubbing her eyes, Y/N adjusted to the dim lighting in the room. Everything in her life was just perfect, her grades were good, she had lots of friends, and last but most definitely not least there was Harry.

They had been dating for over a year now and Y/N could see it lasting, what she felt with Harry was something so indescribable, but it made her so happy. The two of them distracted each other from their lives. Y/N helped him take his mind off He Who Must Not Be Named, and he distracted her from her parents.

Her parents did not approve of their relationship, and Y/N knew it probably had something to do with the fact they secretly supported Voldemort. But she hadn’t ever told him that, for the matter she hadn’t told many peoples.

Y/N was staring at the top of her bed, her stomach beginning to turn. This usually happened when she got a bad feeling. Y/N focused on trying to figure out what might happen, fail a test? Have an argument with someone?

Y/N thoughts were going fifty miles an hour that she didn’t hear her friend wake up next to her. “You look deep in thought.” She joked, Y/N turning to face her. “What’s the matter?” Her friend questioned.

Y/N let out a sigh. “Something bad is about to happen to me.” She mumbled, knowing how ridiculous it might have sounded.

“You’ve been listening to Trelawney too much.” Her friend brushed off with a smile, but it slowly dropped when she saw Y/N’s expression. “Come on Y/N, what could possible happen?”

“I don’t know what, but I feel it coming.” Y/N voiced her thoughts to her friend.

“Let’s do something to take your mind off this.” Her friend suggested. Y/N thought that be the best. Normally when she didn’t feel great, if she did something else to busy herself, the thought usually disappeared.

“Where are you planning to take me?” Y/N questioned, she got out of bed and collected her clothes that she would put on.

“I need to go down to Owlery, I promised to send my sister something from Zonko’s.” Her friend informed her, going into the toilet to get dressed.

Y/N decided to just get dressed in the dorm, the other three girls were fast asleep so she felt comfortable changing. The two girls them left the dormitory once they were ready and headed out their common room.

There wasn’t many students around the castle yet, but this was around the time many of them would be waking up. Many would wake up so thankful it was finally the weekend and they could have some sort of freedom.

Umbridge’s rule over the school was making many reach breaking point, there were new rules almost every day and it was completely turning Hogwarts into a prison. They weren’t allowed to do anything, couldn’t act like normal teenagers, she was determined to make everyone prim, proper and to not challenge the Ministry.

There only hope was Dumbledore’s Army, the only freedom they had. But Marietta Edgecombe had ratted them out, and they were all severely punished. Y/N felt sorry for Harry, it was all going so well and once they were caught, he blamed himself. Y/N tried to reassure her boyfriend that it wasn’t his fault, but she couldn’t get through to him.

In fact, the two of them hadn’t really spoken since Umbridge began giving them punishments, Harry was isolating himself and kept his distance. Y/N was missing him but sometimes he did this, so she decided to let him have a moment to himself and then he would be back to normal.

The girls eventually reached the Owlery, Y/N’s friend immediately heading to find her owl so she could send the products from Zonko to her sister. Y/N looked around at the different owls, but one caught her eye.

It was her parent’s owl. And it had a letter tied around their talon. Y/N untied the letter, about to read it until her friend appeared behind her.

“Has Y/N got a love note from Potter?” Her friend teased her.

“Parents owl.” Y/N informed her friend, who raised both brows. Y/N’s parents hadn’t really kept in contact with her much when she was at Hogwarts, so receiving a letter was unusual.

“What did they say?” Her friend questioned.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t read it yet.” Y/N replied, laughing slightly as she thought of something. “Might be so sad, might leave my nose running.”

“If it’s just to bring you down, ignore them.” Her friend reminded her, her arm wrapping around Y/N’s shoulder. “Let’s head back up, I’m starving.”

Y/N agreed, the two girls heading up the castle for breakfast. They entered the Great Hall and were about to sit at their own house table before Hermione waved them over.

“What’s that?” Hermione questioned immediately as they sat down in front of her, the girl’s two best friends were nowhere to be seen, but not unusual for them to be late for breakfast.

“Nosy are we, Hermione?” Y/N’s friend joked, Hermione playfully shrugged it off.

“It’s a letter from my parents.” Y/N told her, placing the unread letter onto the table.

“Oh.” Hermione mumbled, most people knew what Y/N’s parents were like, she had either told them or heard Harry’s complaints about they didn’t approve of him and the relationship. “Is everything alright?”

“I haven’t read it yet. I will after I have something to eat.” Y/N replied, scanning the table to try and find something to eat. “Where’s the toast?” Her friend reaching and grabbing a piece of toast for Y/N.

The three girls just quietly ate breakfast for a while and enjoyed each other’s company, Ron tiredly stumbled towards them. “Nice of you to finally join us Ronald.” Hermione greeted as he sat down beside her.

“Hermione, I was exhausted.” Ron huffed, grabbing as much food as he could onto his plate, he always acted like he barely eats.

“You always are.” Hermione mumbled under her breath, going back to eating some porridge.

“Where’s Harry?” Y/N blurted out, poor Ron had been harassed by her since Harry started to isolate himself. Ron most definitely knew more than she did.

“Still getting ready, mate.” Ron spoke with his mouth full, Hermione pulling a face and scoffing. “I think he’s alright today, you know, I’d have a chat with him today.” He suggested.

“Thanks Ron.” Y/N smiled, finishing what she was having. Her eyes caught the letter again, she really didn’t want to open it but she was also desperate to find out what they want. With a quiet sigh, she picked up the letter and began to read it.

Dear Y/N,

We hope you are well at Hogwarts, Umbridge seems to finally be turning that school around for the better, I’m sure you’d agree.

Well you would have when you were younger.

We miss our old Y/N, always following the rules and in our footsteps. But every since you started to attend Hogwarts with that daft old man as your head teacher, you changed.

And of course that boyfriend of yours didn’t help either, just like his father, always in trouble. Poor Lily should’ve saved herself.

As you know, the Dark Lord is back. You know how we always felt towards him, but we fear he will target us because of your choices. Many have heard he won’t accept us, because of your closeness to Potter.

He may come after us Y/N, we need you back on our side. Otherwise we’re all dead, you don’t want Potter finding out you’ve been killed by him? He can’t lose another loved one to the Dark Lord.

Write back to us as soon as you can, we can guide you along the way.

All the best,

Mum and Dad.

Y/N eyes began to well up, she knew that feeling from this morning meant something, but for it to be this bad? How on earth she was meant to tell Harry this? “Everything alright?” Her friend put a hand Y/N’s shoulder, the latter had completely forgot where she was at the moment.

“I need to go.” Y/N informed them, quickly jumping up from the bench.

“What did they say to you?” Hermione questioned, but Y/N didn’t answer her. The girl made her way from the hall, eyes trained on the floor to avoid any eye contact from her friends. But that made it difficult to watch where she was going.

Y/N crashed right into someone. “I’m sorry.” She quickly apologised as she refused to look up, she just wanted to go back into her dorm room.

“Y/N?” A voice she could instantly recognise.

“I can’t talk right now, Harry.” Y/N rushed past him, she needed to think what she was going to tell him, if she was going to tell him.

“I just hope he don’t want to leave me.” She mumbled to herself.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It had been a few weeks and Y/N hadn’t said a word to anybody, her and Harry had completely switched places. She was the one isolating herself, trying to decide what to do. Ignore what her parents said, stay with her boyfriend and friends and hope to God nothing happens to them. Or risk listening to her parents, and possibly lose her relationships at Hogwarts?

She had been exchanging letters between her parents in the meantime to see what she needed to do, and it seemed to be to just join them at the Ministry, which didn’t seem so bad. Her parents worked high up for the Ministry anyway, so as long as they gave her permission to leave, Umbridge would let her.

Y/N had pretended to stay asleep until the rest of her dorm mates left, including her friend, before eventually getting up. The feeling in her chest was back from before, the one she got before her parents letter. “Something bad is about to happen to me.” She sadly mumbled, even the weather had mirrored her emotions, it was a dreary day, grey skies and gloom surrounded the castle.

Y/N fidgeted with her hands as she thought what would happen, anxiety fuelling her veins. “Why I feel this way? I don’t know…” She took a deep breath. “Maybe-“

The dorm door opened and revealed Y/N’s friend. “What the fuck is going with you?” She demanded. “What did they say to you to make you like this?”

“It’s complicated.” Y/N brushed off, should she tell her? She did tell her friend everything and maybe it would be good to have some advice.

After some deep breaths and forcing tears to stop falling, Y/N confessed to her friend everything. By the end of it, her friend was in complete shock, face contorting from confusing, to anger, to annoyance.

“And I just don’t know what to do about Harry.” Y/N sadly mumbled. “I think of him so much it drives me crazy.”

“Y/N, this is bad.” Her friend managed to stammer out.

“I just don’t want him to leave me.” Y/N cried, finally allowing the tears to fall.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N.” Her friend snapped. “Of course he will. Joining the people who support the being who killed his parents?” She raised a brow. “I’d definitely forgive you.” Sarcastically she finished.

“But he knows what my parents are like.” Y/N countered.

“I don’t think he’ll care.” Her friend pointed out, deep down Y/N knew the same, Harry would be extremely hurt by this. “How the fuck are you gonna get out this?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N shrugged. “You Know Who will kill them if I don’t help them.”

“Are you forgetting who your boyfriend is?” Her friend raised a brow.

Oh yeah, it would be completely fair on Harry to force him to protect her family. “Like he’s gonna show mercy.” Y/N huffed. “Harry was with Cedric and look what happened, he wants Harry and to just kill who gets in his way.”

It was silent for a moment, neither of them knew what to say. “What are you gonna tell him?” Her friend quietly spoke up, Y/N didn’t say anything. Her friend’s mouth fell open and eyes widened at Y/N’s lack of an answer. “You need to tell him.”

“And say what?! Sorry, I need to go help my Death Eater parents and probably do something for You Know Who.” Y/N snapped.

“I don’t know how to help you.” Her friend awkwardly mumbled.

Y/N knew she couldn’t. She was now trapped with no escape.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Y/N was at the Ministry with her parents, she still had no idea what they were doing or why they needed her, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought. The family got into an elevator and started to head down a few floors.

“Now, whatever you do, don’t talk.” Her mum warned her before the elevator stopped, the girl nodded and they walked out as the doors opened. Y/N could see Draco Malfoy’s father and another woman with curly black hair.

“Did it work?” Y/N’s father asked Lucius.

“I believe so.” Lucius replied, nobody really taking notice to Y/N.

“I can’t wait to meet him.” The black haired woman cackled.

“Now, now, Bellatrix. We have to leave him for the Dark Lord.” Lucius reminded her, the woman huffing dramatically. Y/N’s eyes widened, oh how she was praying they weren’t taking about Harry.

Please don’t be talking about Harry.

“What if he’s fine?” Y/N thought to herself. “It’s my mind that’s wrong. And I just let bad thoughts linger for far too long.”

“We’re going in. Have your wand ready.” Her dad whispered to her. They walked through a door with a handle in the middle into a huge room filled with crystal balls. She couldn’t study them for long before being dragged into the darkness.

The door had opened again a few minutes later, but Y/N couldn’t see who had walked in, only dragged by her parents deeper into the room.

“They should be here!” Harry’s voice was heard, Y/N’s heart dropping to her stomach. Why did he have to come here?

“Harry? It’s got your name on it.” Neville informed him.

“Follow Lucius.” Her mum whispered in her ear, Y/N reluctantly following him, who was now wearing a Death Eater mask.

“Harry!” Here it goes, Y/N kept back from Lucius as the group’s wands lit up the path, she desperately wanted to stay hidden and they would never know she was here.

“Where’s Sirius and Y/N?” Harry demanded as Lucius approached him.

“How fortunate we are to have Y/N right with us.” You could hear the smirk in Lucius’ voice, Y/N wanted to run and escape, but how could one girl manage to escape four Death Eaters?

“What are you talking about?” Harry angrily asked.

“Come on Y/N, don’t be shy.” Lucius gestures for her to come forward. Slowly and painfully, the girl got closer to Harry and the words kept repeating in her head.

“Don’t you give me up. Please don’t give up.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

thank you so much to @drearyxo for being my first request!! i hope this was class enough for you, no hate comments from you 🙄🙄

I HAVE TO SAY I LOVED WRITING THIS SO MUCHHHHH DEFO A FAVE i think you all know by now i’m definitely better at the dialogue part then anything else, but i’m quite proud of it all today :)

there could be a part two to this??? maybe, depends if people want it

hope you enjoyed!!

Taglist: @malfoysstilinski @drearyxo @just-a-bittersweet-tragedy @fizzleberries

#wroetospotterwp #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #harry potter fanfiction #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter imagine #harry james potter

[ghostdrew22]

More || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No Pairing: post-war Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: Pregnancy, miscarriage, some swearing, a bit of angst and so much flufffff

WORDS : 2786

~~~

Song - More by Halsey

“A couple years of waiting rooms“

“They told me it's useless, there's no hope in store But somehow I just want you more“

“I sit and I stare at your clothes in the drawer I cry and my knuckles get sore 'Cause I still believe it won't be like before“

“And nothing could stop me from giving a try I've loved you for all of my life“

~~~

“I’m sorry to tell you this but, you’ve lost the baby.” Dean Thomas- Head Healer in the pediatric and maternal division of St Mungo’s- says to Y/N and Draco Malfoy as they both sit in silence in his office.

“Do you know why this keeps happening?” You ask- barely able to blurt the words out without sobbing.

“I’m afraid not- Y/N, you just might not be able to have children.”

Draco tenses and draws in a breath- “That’s outrageous, isn’t there something you can do?”

You notice his frustration and place your hand on his thigh to calm him down- even though a sea of rage and grief is currently flowing through you as well. You’d always thought that you’d be a mother by now- your own having easily given birth to three children by age 32- and yet here you are, eight tries and four miscarriages later.

“We’ve tried everything…” Healer Thomas sighs and offers you both a solemn look. “It’s beyond our control.”

“So now what?” You rasp- tears tugging at your throat with every word.

“Honestly? Just keep trying.”

“You said that to us a year and a half ago.” Draco grits out.

“That was when I thought I could help- it seems that I overestimated my own abilities.”

“That’s unprofessional.”

“I know, I apologise.” Healer Thomas sits up in his chair, “Cases like this are so rare- I didn’t think it was this serious.”

“That was your fault then.”

“It was, I know… Look, adoption is always an option if Y/N can’t-“

“There’s nothing wrong with my wife, so don’t phrase that sentence like there is.”


“I’m not, I’m jus-“

“You don’t think she’s having a hard enough time without your two cents?”

“Draco, it’s oka-“ You start- wanting to calm him down but he’s already fuming and there’s nothing you can say that will help.

“No Y/N, it isn’t- he can’t condemn you for something that you can’t help, especially when it’s his job to find a way to make this easier for you.” Draco gets out of his chair and pulls you out of yours as well before turning to Healer Thomas once more. “You’re a right knob, you know that?”

You send Healer Thomas an apologetic eye as your husband turns on his heels and walks you both out of the office. Once you’re back in the busy hospital hallway you turn to face him with a huff- ready to have a go at him for being so rude- but before you know it he’s pulled you into his chest and you’re sighing into his arms.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Draco…” You whisper into his chest and start to pull away slowly, “But-“

“Don’t ask me to apologise, I won’t do it.” He says adamantly as he crosses his arms like an angry toddler. “He was being an arsehole and he let us down- after months and hundreds of galleons.”

“So you’re angry about the money?” You raise your eyebrows at your husband who rolls his eyes and lowers his arms so that he can grasp your hands in his own.

“You know that I don’t give a shit about the money- I only care about you and you’ve been crying yourself to sleep over this crap for months, I’m sick and tired of having to watch you blame and hate yourself for something that isn’t your fault. I understand what he was saying but he should’ve picked his words better, there’s nothing wrong with you and I don’t want you to continuously feel like there is.”

“But then why-“

“I don’t know why Y/N. I’d do anything to find an answer for you- I’d do anything for us to start our family right now and you know that. But we clearly have a mountain ahead of us and I need you to believe in yourself if we’re going to climb it, yeah?”

“…” You look up at your husband in silence for a second- observing the look of hope consuming his features- “Yeah.”

“Good. Now we’re going to go home-“

“We have dinner at Harry’s-“

“We’re going to go home.” He repeats- indicating that it isn’t up for discussion and you nod slowly in agreement. “I’ll run you a bath and while you enjoy it, I’ll cook your favourite. Then after dinner we cuddle on the couch and eat ice cream.”

“And Harry’s?”

“I’ll owl him and let him know that we can’t make it this week cause we’re sick.”

You sigh and nod. Draco grabs your hand in his and pulls out his wand to apparate you back home. He fulfills his promises and cancels dinner with the Potter’s- deciding that it would be too difficult to sit through dinner while mini Harry and Ginny’s crawl around the floor. You snuggle into the couch instead to watch Disney movies in silence- trying not to think about how empty your house on the cul-de-sac is without the sound of tiny feet scraping against the floor.

~~~

“Well?” You raise your eyes to your husband as he eyes the muggle pregnancy test in his hands.

He sighs and shakes his head- turning behind him to drop the contraption into the bin and wash his hands.

“I’m broken.” You mumble and drop your head into your hands as you sit on the closed toilet- cursing yourself for thinking that it would be different this time.

“You’re not broken Y/N.” Draco chuckles and makes his way onto his knees so that he can look up at you. “It’s hard getting pregnant.”

“Not for everyone else.” You say exasperatedly and bring your head up to look him in the eyes as he kneels below you. “Ginny and Hermione and Luna are popping out children like it’s a bloody competition.”

“You’re not any of them.” He cups your face in his hands, “And the Weasley’s have genes like rabbits- don’t compare yourself to them.”

“I’d like to have genes like that.” You mumble and pout at him which makes him roll his eyes.

“You want to have genes like that? Then what- you produce the next era of the Weasley clan?”

You giggle and shake your head at him.

“Exactly love.” He plops a kiss on your forehead and releases your face to stand up.

“You know what sucks?” He hums in response as an indication for you to continue, “I keep thinking that it’ll be different next time. We order new clothes, we make plans for the nursery, we start to plan our lives around this baby that we’re so sure that we’re going to have and then every time it doesn’t work out. And every time, I love this baby that we don’t have, even more.”

“I know, it’s like the yearning just makes your heart bigger to hold more love for them.”

“Yes, exactly!” You exclaim with a sigh, “What are we going to do?”

“I was thinking…” Draco starts nervously- fiddling with his fingers- “Maybe we should expand our horizons beyond St Mungo’s.”

You look up as he towers above you and raise your eyebrows at him in questioning, “Expand them to what?”

“Muggles- gynecologists.”

You draw in a breath and observe the look on his face- taking note of how serious and thoughtful he appears to be. “I don’t kn-“

“Look, I’ve already found a few that are willing to meet with us.” He puts his hand out for you to grab, “Let’s just have a sit down with them, hear what they have to say and decide whether or not it’s worth a try afterwards. Yeah?” He asks you with his eyebrows raised.

You process his words and nod slowly- agreeing with reluctance- as you clasps his hand in your own and hoist yourself up off the toilet. “We can hear them out.”

“Thank you love.” He whispers and brings you into him for a kiss.

~~~

“We’ve met with some muggle doctors that say they can help us.” Draco replies to parents as he takes your hand and smiles nervously- worried about how his parents will take the news.

“But we’re probably not going to do it.” You whisper in addition quickly and look down at your plate of food- much to Draco’s dismay as he sends you a disappointed look.

“Why not?” Narcissa furrows her eyebrows in confusion, “Don’t you want children?”

“Yes…” You mumble and look up to glance at your in-laws, “But I don’t know if muggle medicine is the best option.”

“No one said it was the best option,” Narcissa starts as she offers you a smile, “But it’s an option.”

“Which is better than nothing, Y/N.” Lucius finishes for his wife and gives you a soft look of encouragement.

“That’s what I’ve been saying.” Draco responds quietly- squeezing your hand in an effort to comfort your nerves.

“But what’s the likelihood of muggle doctors fixing the problem when our own best and brightest, can’t?” You choke out- tears starting to claw their way up your throat.

Lucius begins with a sigh, “A muggles perspective might grant some clarity.”

“Look, how about you give it a try, and if it doesn’t work then you keep looking?” Narcissa beams and you feel a wave of relief wash over you at the overwhelming support of your husband and his parents.

If this had been your own parents they would’ve ridiculed you for being unable to naturally produce a child and completely shunned the idea of using medical assistance- let alone muggle medicine- to get pregnant.

“Okay.” You sigh and smile- your hand squeezing Draco’s back and dragging a smile from him. “We’ll try it.”

~~~

“Well?” You asks Draco as you sit on the closed toilet. It’s been three months since that night at the Malfoy Manor when you agreed to use muggle medicine- the very next morning you went back to meet doctor Kiran who got you started on a treatment plan immediately- and this is the first test you’ve taken since.

“I’d like to point out that these are a bit dehumanising- is there no better way than to piss on a stick?” Draco mumbles as he pulls the test out of the container he’d dropped it into after you’d taken it.

“Draco!”

“Hmm?” He looks back at you.

“Focus.”

“Oh! Yeah.” He chuckles nervously and brings up the test so that he can read the results. “Y/N…” He starts solemnly and you look down at the ground and sigh immediately in disappointment.

“This is bullshit.”


“It really is.” Draco breathes out as a smile creeps out onto his face, “I don’t think seven months is nearly enough time to come up with the perfect dad joke.”

“What?” You look up at him suddenly- hope glistening in your eyes- and see that he’s got the brightest smile on his face.

“You’re two months along Y/N.”

“Don’t fuck with me.” You respond with a smile- unable to contain the excitement you’re feeling.

“On my life- both tests are positive.” He says as he hands them both to you so that you can see the ‘+’ and ‘2’ written in bright red on the sticks. “We’re going to have a baby.” He breathes out.

“We’re going to have a baby!” You exclaim as you jump off the seat and into your husband’s arms.

~~~

“I’m delighted to introduce you to your daughter.” Dean Thomas exclaims in excitement as he brings the new addition to the Malfoy family in to the room after she’s been cleaned up. “You did really well Y/N, a true champ.” He pats your shoulders as the nurses hand you your daughter.

“That’s my wife.” Draco watches you endearingly as you hold your newborn.

“I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be more help before.”

“Don’t worry about it- we figured it out.” Draco says with a smile on his face.

“I’m really happy for you both- you deserve this.” Dean utters as he pats Draco on the back.

“Thank you… for everything.” Dean nods at Draco.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Dean says as he makes his way out of the hospital room so that you can be alone.

“Come look at her, Dray.” You rasp out- your voice still raw from all the yelling you were doing only hours before during the delivery- and Draco swiftly makes his way to your side so that he can pick up his daughter.

“Ew, we’re crying.” You say in mock disgust as you note that tears are falling from both you and your husband’s faces.

“This is disgustingly cheesy.” Draco chuckles as he lifts one hand from underneath the baby to wipe the tears off of your face.

Weeks of long nights spent in muggle hospital rooms and copious amounts of medication finally paid off- you have your beautiful daughter, to hold and to love, right in front of you. It almost feels too good to be true.

“Can we please meet our grandchild now?” Narcissa asks excitedly as her and Lucius walk in beaming. Draco nods at them with a laugh and brings his daughter toward his parents for them to hold her.

“Here’s your granddaughter.”

“She’s perfect.” Lucius chokes out as he stares down at the bundle of blankets in his arms- feeling a wave of happiness wash over him that is similar to the one he felt at his own son’s birth. “She has Y/N’s eyes.”

“And Draco’s face.” Narcissa whispers with adoration- love washing over her features completely. “Congratulations my love.” She utters as she moves away from the baby and goes to catch her son in a hug- who still has a few tears running down his face.

“Thank you mother.” He whispers into her shoulder.

“And Y/N.” Narcissa walks toward you with a smile so bright it could blind the heavens, “I’m so happy for you darling.”

“Thank you Narcissa- for everything.” You breathe out with a smile as you melt into the warmth and affection of Narcissa’s arms. “We wouldn’t have been able to go through with it if it wasn’t for your support.”

“What is family for?” Lucius perks up from his spot next to Draco with a chuckle- handing the baby back to his son so that he can also hug you. “You did good.”

“I tried.” You chuckle back into his embrace.

“You succeeded, exceptionally.”

“Will there be any more?” Narcissa asks with a smile as she cooes at her granddaughter that she’s holding in her arms- already imaging all of the ways in which she can spoil the child rotten and clasp her love as the favourite grandparent.

You and Draco catch each other’s eyes and smile- already knowing the answer.

~~~

“You’ll never catch me alive!” A small voice says before a body jumps onto the bed and lands above the blankets beside you- startling you awake suddenly.

You shuffle about in the bed- feeling that something above the covers is weighing them down and making it difficult for you to shift them around- and finally peer your head out of the blankets in defeat.

“Oh look, it’s my little chocolate frog.” You exclaim once the fog of sleep wears off and you can see your daughter peering down at you with a bright smile.

“Hi mum.” She giggles out as she moves to climb beneath the covers with you.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m running away from dad.”

“Wh-“

“I thought we agreed that we’re letting mum sleep, peanut?” Draco cuts you off as he stands in the doorway and questions his daughter with furrowed eyebrows- his toddler son trailing on all fours behind him.

“That deal was cancelled.”

“Why?”

“You know what you did.” She mumbles menacingly as she glares softly at her father.

“What did you do, Draco?” You asks from the bed with a laugh.

“I tried to give her a bath.” He deadpans in amusement and you laugh back.

“I’m beyond cleanliness!” Your daughter exclaims in response, “Besides, I thought mum could use some cuddles.”

“I do love cuddles, Dray.” You replies very seriously- even though there’s a huge smile plastered on your lips.

“Well, might as well give her what she wants.” Draco chuckles as he reaches down to carry your 14 month old son off the ground and walks toward the bed to join his two favourite girls. “Happy mother’s day, Y/N.”

Draco settles into the bed- putting his son in first so that both children are sandwiched inbetween you two- and leans over the kids to place a kiss on your lips. Your little display of affection earns a disgusted groan from your daughter and you both pull away with amused expressions.

“Mommy!” Your son exclaims in excitement as he climbs over his sister and lands on your lap.

“Hi bubba.” You giggle and place a kiss on his forehead. He smiles cheekily and tries to recite the words he’d been rehearsing with Draco only minutes before.

“Happy mommy day.”

“Thank you, bubba.”

“I hope you love us because we’re the reason it’s your day.” Your daughter adds in a matter-of-fact tone that has both you and Draco laughing.

“Oh angel,” You finally breathe out with a smile, “I’ve loved you for all of my life.”

#draco #draco malfoy #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco angst #draco fluff #pregnant #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader

[twilightdruig]

help?

pairing : george weasley x fem!reader

summary : “hi i’m your neighbor and while i know we’ve never spoken but you’re a single parent of two and my sister recently died leaving me to raise her infant and i have no idea what i’m doing, help?” au

warnings : swearing , mentions of character deaths , fluff , au where george lives alone with his two children in a cottage near the burrow , au where fred and cedric live.

words : 2.6k

a/n : this is my first fic so it’s probably gonna be shit (as you can probably tell i’m not good with titles either) but yeah hope you enjoy :> and i might do a little part 2 on this soon

holly l/n was loved by multiple. a sweet hufflepuff student who was favored by all the teachers and students. her sister, y/n was a scary and intimidating gryffindor who hung out in the library.

ever since the battle of hogwarts death eaters have been imprisoned in azkaban. but, that didn’t mean all harm was gone.

now here y/n l/n was, standing in the heat of the summer, her nephew connor l/n mourning the death of a family member.

the service was beautiful. a few hogwarts students came including luna lovegood and neville longbottom and professor sprout and professor flitwick decided to pay their respects. headmistress mcgonagall sent her condolences through a letter as well.

conner wasn’t old enough to go to hogwarts yet. there was no one else for holly to leave connor with. her husband, ronan died during the war, all connor’s grandparents died and the only appointed godparents were holly’s best friend cedric diggory and her sister y/n.

cedric diggory was now teaching first year flying at hogwarts and is married to cho chang.

y/n was currently doing nothing with her life. she wanted to live alone in a cottage, reading, stitching, picking apples and getting drunk on fruity cocktails. but now? she had to take care of her sister’s spoiled son.

y/n hated children more than she hated the people in her own hogwarts house. more so, she didn’t know how to take care of them.

she had to enroll her nephew in hogwarts, teach him basic life skills and other stuff like that. there goes her life goal on being that cool stoner aunt that hates love and children.

—

“shit, connor!” y/n exclaimed as her 3 year old nephew accidentally ate a ton tongue toffee made by the joke shop in diagon alley owned by the weasleys.

“sorry aunty y/n”

she was never close to the weasleys. all of them, stereotypical gryffindors, loud and chaotic and always the main characters.

the only thing she knew about them is that one of the twins live next to her. y/n didn’t know how to shrink his tongue and thought it was quite the convenience that he lives next door. he was a single dad with two daughters, maybe he could help her control her nephew and technically her adopted son, now.

she sighed. “put on your coat, we’re visiting our neighbors, ok con?” the little boy nodded in response

—

went the small cottage came into view, there were two little girls picking flowers on the front yard and a tall red-headed man on the porch watching them.

“hey! weasley!” she yelled with a small smile as she approached the small gate.

“l/n? what are you doing here?” george asked

y/n gestured to her nephew who was holding his now 3 foot long tongue. “he accidentally ate one of your products and i’m not entirely sure how to fix it”

“right, right” he laughed “come on, connor right? i’ll reverse that”

y/n felt a tug at her oversized cardigan. she looked down to see two identical ginger twins.

“hi there!” one smiled.

“hello!” y/n tried to sound as nice as possible. looking back at her teenage years she remembered laughing at kids who fell of their brooms their brooms when she’d watch first year flying. she remembered laughing at seamus finnigan when something blew up in his face. or when she’d laugh at any kid accidentally getting hurt.

“these are for you! they’re pretty just like you” the other twin exclaimed.

“i’m charlotte and she’s billie” charlotte giggled.

“how do u know our daddy?” billie asked

“oh! um, we went to school together and i live just next door” y/n replied

“do you know our uncle freddie?”

“i know all your uncles and your aunt ginny, aunt hermione and uncle harry. they were all famous when we were in school”

“wow!” they both exclaimed

george and connor came back out. “look aunty y/n! my tongue’s normal again!”

“aunty?” george questioned. “holly. she died quite recently.”

“oh! i’m so sorry. i heard about her. yeah. i believe mum sent some flowers for the service”

“yeah we received them”

“i’ll see you around?” george inquired

“yeah, yeah. and i might need some parenting advice? you knew how i was back at hogwarts”

“i am flattered, dear l/n”

“oh hush. and they get along.” she pointed to the three children running around.

“they do. and yes, i would love to help you tame that little rascal” george laughed.

“thank you, george. really.”

“i’m just next door, yeah?”

“yeah” y/n smiled “come on, connor. we’re going home. but we’ll definitely be seeing these lovely ladies soon.”

“bye pretty lady!” y/n heard two young voices call after her

“daddy, who was she?”

“is she gonna be our new mommy?”

—

george and y/n had been hanging out for the past weeks. he had given her advice on taking care of connor and how to deal with children. they also spent time talking about family and their time back at hogwarts. she was told about the attack of death eaters at one of his brothers’ wedding and how his daughters were named after his brothers bill and charlie.

a knock at y/n’s door interrupted her reading.

“oi, l/n!” she heard a familiar voice on the other side of the door.

“weasley” she muttered.

connor recognized george’s voice and the twins’ giggles, he decided he would take matters into his own little hands. connor knew how stubborn his aunt was at the young age of seven.

“hi billie! hi charlotte! hi uncle george!” the little boy squealed.

“hey there, con!” george ruffled his hair while billie and charlotte ran over to y/n.

connor and the twins were two years apart. connor was going to hogwarts the next year. no doubt would he be trouble to professor mcgonagall but everyone knew they were always her favorites.

“aunty y/n! uncle george brought cookies!” connor yelled excitedly. y/n was never the type to bake or cook. she did try to but it always ended in almost burning the house down. she usually fed connor fruits or store bought food.

“you didn’t have to” y/n responded while taking the plastic box.

“oh yes i did” he teased “i heard you’ve been starving this poor little fellow”

“daddy didn’t bake those cookies” charlotte stated “grandma did” billie continued

“oh” she smirked at george then turned to the twins “tell your grandma i say thanks!”

“uncle george! i wanna show you something outside! the twins can come too!”

“connor, what are you gonna show them?” y/n grumbled.

“your paintings! they’re amazing” her nephew jumped.

“paintings, eh?” george smiled “okay, let’s go, champ. see those paintings of your aunt.” the two scurried outside, two redheaded girls following after.

y/n groaned and fell back into the couch, finishing her book.

—

it’s been a few days since george and the twins came with cooking to y/n and connor’s cottage. she wanted to throw connor a little surprise birthday party.

connor has loved the twins and george so much, he thinks of them as blood relatives. y/n decided to call up cedric and cho to look after connor while she’d do some errands.

the two arrived exactly on time as y/n was preparing to go out. she had on a simple cardigan and loose denim pants.

“ced! cho! hi, how are you guys?” y/n greeted as she saw her old friends apparate into the cottage.

“hi y/n!” cho greeted “hey nerd” cedric snickered.

she sent cedric a small glare before connor jumped at the two.

“uncle ceddy! aunty cho! you’re here” he shouted.

“yeah buddy! your aunt’s gonna run some errands and visit your uncle georgie?” cedric winked at y/n. she had been owling cedric about george and how he’s been helping her with connor.

“are you going out with uncle george?” connor asked, eyes twinkling.

“i don’t know, actually. i might check him out next door.”

“george weasley?” cho teased.

“yes, cho,” y/n rolled her eyes “but on that note, i have to go”

“bye, connor! behave okay?” she crouched down and squished his cheeks.

“bye, ced! cho!” her voice faded when she dashed out the door.

—

y/n passed george’s cottage to see if he actually might want to come with her and do errands.

she was standing outside the small gate, hesitating. ‘maybe he was busy’ ‘he wouldn’t want to do errands with me’ ‘maybe he would if i told him it was for connor’s birthday’ she thought. y/n didn’t know why she was overthinking her choices. the first time she was standing right outside the gate she bursted in and demanded george to fix whatever happened to her nephew. now, she was nervous. her palms were sweaty and clammy.

she pushed herself in and walked to the front porch. she knocked a few times and was met with a head of messy brown hair.

“hermione?!” she squealed

“y/n!” hermione jumped to hug her old friend.

there were overlapping voices in the background and when they pulled away she was met with multiple mops of ginger hair, a head of blonde hair and another with black hair behind hermione.

“l/n?” ginny weasley asked, quite shocked what she would be doing outside george’s door.

“oh! did i interrupt something? i am so sorry!” she said feeling a bit nervous.

“oh! you must be the dearest y/n george keeps talking about!” an old woman she thought was mrs. weasley approached her from behind her children.

“hi there!” y/n said feeling a little embarrassed she might’ve barged in on a family reunion.

“ah! l/n? i have heard of your family! muggle-borns right?” arthur weasley joined his wife.

“uh, yeah!” she pursed her lips “i am so so sorry i interrupted! i should go. tell george i’ll swing by next time”

“oh it’s absolutely alright, dear” molly reassured her.

“george! there’s a really pretty girl! get your arse out here!” fred yelled to george who was probably inside the house.

“is she here?” charlotte and billie ran to the door.

“hi girls! tell you dad i was here yeah? say i’ll come by next time” most of the weasleys came back in. she took it as her time to go on with her day.

“oi! y/n! wait up” the voice she recognized as george’s called after her.

“george, hey”

“where’r you off to?” george pointed to the small bag that was swung over her shoulder.

“errands. connor’s birthday is coming up so i thought i’d prepare something for him. first birthday without his mum, you know”

“his birthday’s coming up?” george looked as excited as a child on christmas morning.

“yeah. why?” she smiled

“you’re talking to one of the best party planners there is. you also did talk to another one of them… i think”

“fred?”

“oh yeah”

“i wanted to ask if you wanted to come but seeing as to your family is in your house… i’m gonna take a wild guess and say you aren’t available right now” she giggled.

“maybe if you went another day” he said sympathetically. george really wanted to go and prepare connor’s party with her. he treated him like his own and boy did he remind him of how fun it was to be a kid. he loved his aunt so much it was adorable.

“george. seriously, it’s okay. spend time with your family” she laughed.

“yeah, yeah. i’ll see you when you get back” he waved.

—

connor’s small birthday gathering was in full swing. y/n became acquainted with george’s siblings. bill, charlie, percy (whom she was actually friends with back in hogwarts), fred, ron and ginny. hermione was a very good friend of hers and so was harry. she recognized fleur from that day in the cottage as beauxbatons triwizard champion.

connor had quite a bunch of guests for his birthday. cedric, cho, luna, neville, fred, percy, ron, harry, hermione, bill and fleur and their little victorie. of course, billie and charlotte helped george and y/n fix up the party. mr. and mrs. weasley sent a small cake for connor when they heard about y/n not knowing asingle thing about cooking.

fred offered to take care of the twins and connor while george and y/n ran off somewhere. the two found themselves near a small creek. y/n explained how the cottage was where she’d go off exploring and the only person who knew was holly. she was overjoyed when her sister got the cottage she used as a hideaway.

george was surprised when there were lights and blankets and everything. the soft sounds of running water was calming.

the two were pretty intoxicated when they sat down; stumbled onto the picnic blanket. y/n was sober enough to not spill her deepest darkest secrets. george on the other hand…

“have i ever told you how pretty you are?” george mumbled next to her. y/n only snickered and blushed.

“um, can i hold your hand?” he continued, taking a look at the girl next to him.

“sure” she winked.

“you know” he started again “i actually fancied you a bit back in school”

“yeah?” she rolled over to her side “i wonder… what did you like about me?”

“i don’t even know. my heart just felt so full with you. still does, right now, holding your hand, under the stars by a stream.” he had this glint in his eye when he looks at her.

“hey,” she brushed some hair out of his face “these past few months have been great. and you’re a huge help with connor. you know i’ll always be there for you, right?”

“yeah darling,” he yawned “yeah”

“wait, george!” she sat up “no. don’t fall asleep!”

“fuck” she groaned before falling back down on the blanket.

“i think i love you” she whispered.

—

morning rolled around and they were still lying somewhere in the forest behind the cottage. some childish chatter and laughs were heard from where they were still sleeping soundly.

until, a red ant bit y/n and george’s intertwined hands. “ah shit!” y/n woke up from the bite. her yell also woke up the sleeping man next to her “what?! what happened?” he jumped.

“oh. did i wake you up?” she asked.

“no. it’s honestly no worries” he said “but i do have a killer headache”

“an ant bit me” she muttered, wanting to scratch it.

“hey, no don’t scratch! i’ve had a lot if experience with insect bites” he explained “want me to kiss it better?” he teased.

“oh, ha-ha” she rolled her eyes but blushed.

“we should probably head back” he checked his watch while standing up.

—

“ah! there the lovebirds are!” fred exclaimed.

everyone was cleaning up from last night. there were children running around while chasing balloons and each other.

“yeah,” george started “we, um, fell asleep”

“sure ya did” this time ron teased the two.

“i’m gonna clean up here,” y/n offered “you guys should go home. you know, get some rest”

cedric gasped “y/n l/n! are you kicking us out?” he said in mock offense.

“technically, yeah. i doubt connor got any sleep”

“maybe we should,” fleur said with her accent “victorie was very excited for the party she is very worn out”

george snuck behind y/n “i think i love you too” he muttered under his breath. he wasn’t sure if she heard it. she did.

“i’ll see you later, y/n!” he yelled “come on, princesses, we’re going home. we’ll see connor and y/n later”

connor and the twins hugged while y/n said thank you’s to all the guests.

maybe it wasn’t such a bad decision to ask for help.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #harry potter #hogwarts #george weasley imagine #george weasley x fem #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you

[sonybees]

random harry potter characters headcanons because i am bored

includes: fred, george, harry, ron, hermione, ginny, luna, seamus, dean, neville, padma, parvati, cedric, angelina, alicia, katie, cho, draco, adrian, blaise, and pansy.

warnings: slight modern!au, swearing, food mention

these are all headcanons i made on the spot so i’m sorry if they suck. i’m just really bored. it is also all over the place. a lot of these are collabs between some characters. i hope you enjoy though!

(by the way, the little dashes are just dividers)

rest under the cut!

fred would dance around his room at 3 am to literally any song.

jazz, classical, rock, metal, pop he does not give a fuck.

he woke up george once by jumping on his bed and playing all star on his electric guitar.

probably a song writer

uses “life is short” as an excuse to act on his bad decisions

dancing in the rain is one of his favorite things to do

sleeps at 3 am or pm, you decide.

hopeless romantic

good old fashioned lover boy by queen is his song

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

-

george loves birds and bugs. completely unrelated to the last one but it’s true.

saw an injured bird outside his room when he was 5.

he cried and immediately took it in.

also cries when someone kills a bug.

thinks the bug’s family would be angry and disappointed in him.

enjoys painting random objects in his room

loves being called pet names

something like dear, honey, or hubby would make his heart burst

loves using them for his significant other as well

hopeless romantic part 2

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

-

harry is a night owl and he likes reading comic books.

he likes listening to rock music. i said what i said.

prefers being alone

likes quiet places and probably has a hideout

usually doesn’t understand poetry until he reads it like 20 times

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

-

ron adores ducks.

tears up when he sees them and always used to beg molly to keep them.

still tears up to this day.

not a big fan of seagulls though

he’s scared of them

but eagles are cool

likes country and rock music

also takes an interest in photography

the breakfast club is his favorite movie

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

-

hermione loves listening to taylor swift.

reads to her songs always.

ravenclaws save her a special seat in their common room because a lot of them grew quite fond of her

a taste tester for hufflepuffs who go to katie’s lessons you’ll understand this later

she actually enjoys dressing up as well even if there wasn’t an event

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

-

ginny accompanies dean while he draws.

she just likes looking at other people do what they love so it’s not only dean.

she sometimes zones out looking at hermione read a book, always taking note of the facial expressions and guessing what she just read,

catching harry push his glasses up or cleaning them,

also is with luna every time she paints.

luna has a few artworks with ginny as her muse.

gin likes the simple things in life.

loves board games

sometimes a little too competitive

struts down the hallways with her significant other

she’d never admit it but she loves 10 things i hate about you

has a soft spot for slytherins

-

luna almost always goes with neville to the gardens.

she helps him with whatever he needs and sometimes draws a few stuff.

she’s a photographer too so she loves waking up early in the morning and taking photos.

amazing at braiding hair

and making flower crowns

likes reading royal fantasy books

watches 10 things i hate about you with ginny

has a soft spot for slytherins

-

seamus also hangs out with luna sometimes,

talking to each other about whatever.

he thinks she’s interesting and would make great conversations.

she does.

he also took some painting lessons from her

meditates

loves pumpkin juice

likes the movie my girl

has cried more than he will ever admit

has a soft spot for slytherins

-

dean has a wall in the boys dorm room where he puts up all his drawings.

the guys love it and always just stares at all of them in awe.

they’re all so amazing

is usually the first to notice when someone is sick

takes care of them immediately

loves sweaters

knows how to speak in latin

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

-

neville goes to hagrid way more often than anyone thought.

he learned how to take care of the creatures, make some awesome tea,

he also sometimes helps hagrid clean his own house.

helps others in herbology

likes green tea

loves overalls

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

-

padma holds a record of the fastest writer at hogwarts

yeah, she’s amazing at it

ended up publishing her own fantasy book starting at hogwarts

sold out faster than expected

she is also a singer

amazing singer

movie marathons are her thing

prefers crime shows/movies

soft spot for gryffindors

-

parvati is very very very protective over her sister

does archery and is amazing at it

a very chill person until you mess with her loved ones

loves sixteen candles

adores puppies

watches big bang theory

soft spot for slytherins

-

cedric plays the piano.

the ravenclaw common room is where the only piano is at hogwarts so he goes there quite often.

everyone loves hearing him play.

other students gather around with their instruments and sing along as well.

wears glasses for reading

netflix type of guy

probably a theatre kid

has a soft spot for gryffindors

-

angelina also took piano lessons from cedric.

she just asked him one day where he learned it and he said his father taught him and he could tell that she wanted to learn.

so, he offered to teach her.

she was a natural at it and the lessons are always fun, even for the ravenclaws

angelina is also a tutor at hogwarts.

it all started with george and fred and she realized that she actually quite enjoyed it.

all her students love her

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

-

alicia is always the group leader in every group work she’s ever done.

she’s also usually the main organizer for any event at hogwarts.

she’s usually there with the help of angelina and katie.

they all work very well together

has a soft spot for slytherins

-

katie has a passion for cooking.

she’s friends with a lot of hufflepuffs and she meets a lot of them by the kitchens.

in there, they watch her cook amazing dishes and baked goods.

she was able to teach a few others how to as well.

the house elves love her.

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

-

cho has an interest in fashion designing.

mcgonagall found her making a dress once in an empty hallway with some cool music playing.

minnie was amazed.

she was also able to start a fashion club at hogwarts.

luna, katie, dean and a few other were apart of this club as well.

likes pudding as much as luna does

has a soft spot for gryffindors

-

draco plays the violin.

pretty unexpected to his friends because he never really told anyone til goyle walked in on him playing in his dorm room.

he is actually very good at it.

combs his hair too often

the type to take too long at the water fountain

finishes his water bottle after like less than two hours of getting it

acts ‘ominous’ to the point where it’s funny

soft spot? for ravenclaws

-

adrian teaches young students how to play quidditch

his favorite color’s green for nature

actually loves reading and writing poetry

“most respectful”

has a soft spot for gryffindors

-

blaise seems very intimidating but is actually very sweet

shouts at quidditch games (much to everyones surprise)

loves the rain

likes dark academia movies

it’s basically his whole aesthetic

holds a record for most botts beans that fit in the mouth (without puking)

has a soft spot for hufflepuffs

-

pansy has a whole drawer of jewelry as she should honestly

actually soft for cats but it’s not like she’ll ever tell anyone

loves playing with other’s hair

massages her friend’s backs

they do the same for her

a goddess at card games

is actually a gymnast

has a soft spot for ravenclaws

-

bonuses: george and fred’s favorite movie to watch together is bill and ted’s excellent adventure

all the gryffindors have a movie night at least once a week and others from different houses join along as well

hermione, ginny, luna, parvati, padma, angelina, alicia, katie, and cho have girl nights

the same with the guys though it was quite awkward at first due to draco being there but they eventually warmed up to each other (after like 4 months)

no one really knows how draco and the slytherins even got there but yk

they never tell anyone that they’re comfortable with each other now though

tags: @quadrupledeckertaco @audreysmusings @georgeweasley19 @krasivayadarling @crookedhag

and others who i think would enjoy this: @lunalovecroft @whizboyhalo @darthwheezely @sirlorelai @puntuations @cherryweasleys @amourtentiaa @whatthefuckimbisexual @gredmforge (you don’t have to read if you don’t like!)

#harry potter headcanons #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley #george weasley headcanons #george weasley #harry potter #ron weasley headcanons #ron weasley #hermione granger headcanons #hermione granger #ginny weasley headcanons #ginny weasley #luna lovegood headcanons #luna lovegood #seamus finnigan headcanons #seamus finnigan #dean thomas headcanons #dean thomas #neville longbottom headcanons #neville longbottom #cedric diggory headcanons #cedric diggory #cho chang #draco malfoy #adrian pucey #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #sofia’s writing #i’m gonna reach the limit byehejdjd

[theclockworkmonk]

Out of the Mouths of Babes — Chapter 2

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Read on FanFiction.net

Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

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

"They can't be serious…." Harry muttered in disbelief as he stared down at the very official-looking letter.

"Who's serious about what?" asked Ginny, stepping into their living room.

Harry jumped and quickly tried to hide the letter behind his back. "Nothing!" he squeaked.

He should have known better. Ginny got a mischievous glint in her eye and darted around him, trying to get at the letter. They spent a minute chasing around each other, but eventually Ginny faked him out into tripping over the coffee table, and she quickly snatched the letter out of his hand with a triumphant laugh, making Harry once again wonder if she wouldn't be even better at Seeker.

"Ooooo," Ginny sang dramatically as she saw the emblem at the top of the parchment, "an official statement from the Wizengamot! Have they come up with a new award to bestow on you?"

"No, it's even worse," mumbled Harry.

"Oh, well now I'm very interested," Ginny teased, "am I worthy to take a peek at such official correspondence between such important people?"

"Well, it actually concerns you too, Missy," said Harry, crossing his arms, "so go ahead."

"Hold on, let's see if I can get the right tone." Ginny cleared her throat, pointed her nose in the air, and continued in her haughtiest tone,

"To the esteemed Harry James Potter,

After consideration of your actions to serve and protect the Wizarding World of Great Britain, as well as the recent discovery of your lineage to the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, previously thought to be lost, it is with great honor and pleasure that we offer to restore your line to its former status by bestowing upon you one of the vacant Lordships!?"

Ginny dropped her character and her mouth gaped open in disbelief. "Along with the accompanying seat on the Wizengamot!" she finished quickly.

She looked up at him with wide eyes, and her face split into a wicked grin and Harry knew he would never hear the end of this.

Harry snatched the parchment back.

"Yeah, so in other words," he began before she could start getting her jokes in, "they're embarrassed by how many of their seats are still empty after half their members were thrown in prison or fled the country for being Death Eater collaborators, so they're once again trying to use me as their poster boy so they can look like they've turned over a new leaf. Except they clearly haven't, since they only deemed me 'worthy' after they found out which dead pure-bloods I'm descended from, so they're still the same navel-gazing, inbred aristocrats they've always been!"

By the time he was finished, he was shouting and he panted to catch his breath.

Ginny, however, still found the whole thing hilarious.

"Oh, it breaks my heart to see Lord Potter so displeased," she bowed low to him with a flourish of her hand. "Let me know if there's anything a lowly peasant like me can do to serve you."

"Yeah, yuck it up, Weasley," said Harry dryly, "Like I said, this affects you too."

She looked back up at him with a sardonic look. "How does your having to sit through long parliamentary bullshit have to do with me?"

"Well," said Harry, stepping toward her, "if I'm a Lord, that means that, if I ever get married one day—"

"Hypothetically speaking," said Ginny.

"Yes, then that hypothetical girl — whoever she might be — would become a Lady."

"Hmmm," hummed Ginny thoughtfully. She wrapped her hands around his neck and he snaked his arms around her waist. "So you think this is relevant to me because you're hoping to make me your Lady? That's mighty presumptive of you, Lord Potter."

"Well, I wouldn't say hoping," lied Harry. "It's just a logical possibility to consider, strictly because you're pure-blood, of course. But I'm still keeping my options open. After all, you know how much of a ladies man I am."

"Yes, of course. But you know…" said Ginny thoughtfully, tracing circles over Harry's chest with her finger, "'Lady Ginevra Potter….does have kind of a nice ring to it."

"Oh, but things would be expected of you, m'Lady," said Harry, "and you would definitely have to stop all that Quidditch nonsense. Such a vulgar and violent activity is beneath a woman of your standing."

"Oh, well, I guess that's settled, we have to break up," Ginny sighed, "We're just a part of two different worlds."

"I'll always remember you," said Harry romantically, "but alas, I must kiss you goodbye."

He bent down and gave her a kiss, then they broke apart as they cracked up into laughter.

"Come on, I'm not going to let anyone call me a Lord," said Harry, rolling his eyes, "and obviously I'm not actually going to sit on the bloody Wizengamot. Those seats are transferable, so I can give it to someone who will actually know what they're doing. My first instinct is your dad, but he probably won't want it either, and they'll do anything to get him off again. Andromeda would probably feel at home there, but could do some good. Or maybe McGonagall."

Ginny groaned. "You can be so boring sometimes, you know that? You have a chance to put Luna in a position of power, that would drive them insane! Oh, or how about Aberforth, that would be hilarious!"

Harry laughed. "We're not all agents of chaos like you, Gin. I swear, sometimes I think you're Eris in disguise."

"Oh, you think I'm a goddess?" Ginny flirted, "then I guess you better worship me."

"Hmmm," Harry kissed her again, but then sighed and pulled back. "Sadly, there's no time for that, we're already running late for dinner at the Burrow."

"Alright, should we go together or do you want to keep up the pretense that we're actually living in different flats?" she asked him pointedly.

He gave a weak, embarrassed smile. "I know it's ridiculous, and I might be a coward, I've just managed to escape your mother's disapproving stare so far in my life, I'd like to keep it that way as long as possible."

Ginny rolled her eyes but led him by the hand out the door of their flat, past the wards they had put up. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, and turned on the spot, feeling the squeeze of Disapparition.

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

"Come on!" urged Ron, "I'm hungry!"

"What else is new?" laughed Hermione, as she finished a letter she needed to send and tied it to Pig. After she sent the little owl on his way, she turned around to see her fiance standing by the fireplace, bouncing on his feet like a child on Christmas morning.

"Honestly Ron," said Hermione, shaking her head, "one would think you haven't eaten in a week, and there's no way that your mother even has dinner ready yet."

"Yes, but her pre-dinner scones should be coming out of the oven right now!" said Ron cleverly, "And I might as well have not eaten in a week, don't pretend like I'm the only one who's sick of our sad attempts at cooking."

"Alright, alright!" said Hermione. She joined him by the fireplace, threw some floo powder into the grate, and together they stepped into the green flames.

"THE BURROW!" Ron shouted clearly, and after the spinning sensation and flashes of various fireplaces, they stumbled into the sitting room of Ron's childhood home.

Ron's excited smile faltered when they saw the sitting room completely empty, with no one there to greet them. He recognized the overlapping voices of his family instead coming from the kitchen, and with a rush of horror he feared that his precious scones were already being eaten by an army of Weasleys. He led Hermione by the hand across the room towards the kitchen, and he started to make out individual voices.

"I just don't understand why they haven't told us!" said his mother.

"He probably knows what we're likely to do to him," grumbled Charlie.

"You've been away too long, brother mine," chuckled George, "I guarantee you she's the one keeping it under wraps."

"In any case, we know that pushing the issue will do nothing but make things worse," said Ron's dad gently, "We just have to—"

"Scones ready?" asked Ron loudly as he and Hermione entered the kitchen, and Hermione had to resist the urge to swat him. The conversation he had interrupted seemed interesting, and her suspicions were confirmed (and her curiosity inflamed) when all talk instantly ceased the moment they walked into the room. Six heads snapped towards the arriving couple as Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George widened their eyes in surprise and fear, like they were caught discussing something covert. Hermione also noticed how a few of them (mainly Ron's two oldest brothers) then narrowed their eyes venomously at her and her boyfriend.

While the kitchen of the Burrow was usually one of the warmest, most welcoming rooms in the world to Hermione, she noticed a distinctly cool, tense atmosphere this time. She looked sideways and saw that even Ron had clearly noticed, his eager smile slipping from his face.

There were several seconds of silence as the older family members' eyes all flittered between each other, holding a silent conversation that Ron and Hermione didn't know how to join. Then the loud ding of the kitchen timer made them all jerk suddenly.

"Wow, do I have great timing or what?" said Ron proudly, trying to ease some of the tension in the room, but some of his laughter died in his throat. His stomach didn't let him dwell on it, however, as Molly bent down to take the scones out of the oven, and the sweet, fresh smell filled the kitchen.

After she put the plate of scones on the table, Ron casually flicked a cooling charm over them before grabbing one greedily. The other Weasley men took their own, but they looked more like it was just something to do with their hands. While Ron hummed as he took a big bite, they chewed theirs thoughtfully.

"I should check on the washing," said Molly quietly, without looking at anyone. She grabbed a laundry basket and headed outside towards the clothesline.

"I'll help!" said Hermione cheerfully. She was always happy to help with the chores at the Burrow, but she also wanted to get one of the Weasleys alone to figure out what they had been talking about.

Molly didn't answer and continued outside with Hermione behind her.

"How have you and Arthur been?" asked Hermione pleasantly.

"Well, my days are still dreary, with no children left in the house," Molly sighed. "I knew that children don't stay children forever, but I certainly wasn't expecting my younger ones to hit so many milestones so quickly….and in the wrong order." She finished more quietly

Hermione frowned. Did Molly think she and Ron were getting married too soon? She had never expressed that before, she was overjoyed when they had announced their engagement.

"Er….well, Ron recently got promoted from Junior Auror," said Hermione uncertainly as she began helping Molly take garments off the clothesline and put them in the basket. "He'll be taking more serious cases now." So his career is well on track, if that's what you're worried about.

"I'm touched that you and Ron are willing to indulge that to me!" said Molly sharply

Hermione pursed her lips. Her patience was running out.

She stepped towards her soon-to-be mother-in-law and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Molly…"

For the first time, Molly turned to look at Hermione and the younger woman flinched back at the cold distrust and disapproval she saw in her eyes. Hermione felt a rush of deja vu, and after a short moment she realized where she had seen that look before: it was the same look she had received from Molly her fourth year, when the older witch had believed Rita Skeeter and was under the impression that Hermione was Harry's manipulative girlfriend, breaking his heart by messing around with Viktor.

"Mrs. Weasley...have I done something wrong?" asked Hermione weakly.

Seeing the hurt on Hermione's face, Molly's own harsh expression softened and was replaced with a wave of guilt. Her eyes got watery and her lip trembled, and before Hermione could say anything else she suddenly found herself being hugged tightly.

"No dear, you haven't done anything wrong," said Molly in a choked voice, as Hermione awkwardly patted her back, thoroughly confused. "I'm just being silly. I understand you're not choosing sides, you're just being a good friend."

Molly pulled back, and was smiling weakly at Hermione.

"Er...thank you," said Hermione, more bewildered than ever. "I don't mean to be rude, Molly, but I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh no, of course not," Molly winked dramatically, "There's nothing to tell, I'll drop it. Come on, dinner is just about ready."

Before Hermione could insist more strongly that Molly explain what the hell was going on, Molly picked up the now-full laundry basket and returned to the house, leaving Hermione blinking dumbly behind her.

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

As Hermione followed his mother outside, Ron continued to chew into the warm, buttery scone, barely looking at his surrounding family members, the earlier tension all but forgotten to him.

"So….little Ronnie doesn't come around for dinner as much as he used to," Bill pointed out.

"He and Harry have been burning the candle at both ends at the Ministry," said Percy.

"Hmm-hmm," Ron nodded, engrossed in his scone, not looking up to see the stern looks on his brothers' faces. "More than we need to be, honestly. But because of Harry's saving-people-thing, he's always sure that the next case will end in disaster if the dark wizard isn't caught right now, and of course he would be lost without me, so whenever he's working overtime I am too." He shrugged.

"Oh yes, I think we're all well aware how loyal you are to Harry," Charlie said darkly, "Even over other, older loyalties, as a matter of fact."

"Charlie…." began their dad warningly.

Ron looked back up, and grew uncomfortable again when he saw that all of his family members were looking directly at him. Earlier, he had assumed that the awkward tension in the room was because he and Hermione had interrupted an important conversation, but it seemed to go beyond that, like they were pissed directly at him for something he had done.

"What's going—"

He was interrupted by his mother re-entering the house, holding the laundry with one hand and wiping tears from her eyes with the other. Hermione followed in shortly behind her, and Ron looked pointedly at his mother and gave his fiance a quizzical look, but Hermione just returned a confused, helpless shrug.

"The roast should be almost done now," said Molly happily, and waved her want to send a flurry of plates and cutlery flying to settle in front of where each of the Weasley men were sitting.

"And I'm such a terrible mother, I neglected something," chuckled Molly, and bent down to kiss the crown of Ron's head. "We all missed you, dear."

"Mum…" Ron grumbled awkwardly, but he saw his brothers look at each other with slightly guilty expressions, and as they followed their mother's lead, the atmosphere of the room became friendlier.

Charlie drew in a deep breath and sighed. "I need a drink."

"Excellent idea!" pipped George. He waved his wand and summoned a large bottle of firewhiskey from the cabinet along with several glasses, which zoomed right past Molly's face, causing her to jump and shriek.

"For the last time, only the cook can summon in the kitchen!" Molly scolded him, "I won't have this room devolve in complete chaos of flying objects until someone gets a concussion!"

"And I know you don't always act like it, but you are all of age," said Arthur, raising his eyebrows at George pouring several glasses of whiskey, "so I see no reason why you can't bring your own drinking supplies instead of raiding mine."

Molly huffed. "Well maybe it will be best if we stopped keeping that poison in the house—"

She stopped abruptly as they heard a faint pop from outside, coming from down the pathway, and Ron knew that Harry and Ginny must have arrived. Instead of beaming and rushing out into the garden to greet her two favorite children, however, Ron saw his mother gasp and a bit of the color drain from her face. His family members all looked at each other with that same expression he first saw when he came into the room.

Charlie gave a low growl and picked up a glass. "Yup. Definitely need a drink."

#hinny ficfest #hinny fanfiction #hinny fluff #romione #hinny #hinny fanfic #ron x hermione #ron and hermione #harry and ginny #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #romione fanfic #harry x ginny #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic

[comehomeducklings]

Past [Part 2] (Obsession)

A/N: Some chapters will be named with either “Past,” “Present,” or “Future,” then their numbered part coming right after it. This is to confuse you less when flashbacks or anything happens. As you have probably noticed, it says “Past” for Part 2. This is going back near when Tom and her just met. Thank you for reading! <3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

1940 - 3rd year

“Potions is not that bad, I swear. You just have to be good at measuring.”

At the table, my friends and I are discussing our classes this year. Potions being one of my favorite topics. Devyn absolutely loathes that certain class. We have to drag her there to make sure she doesn’t skip. Poor girl tries her best to not mess up but the cauldron always ends up blowing up. I even watched her do every step once, never missing a beat. The potion still ended up failing, even though she did everything correctly. She gave up after a while, who wouldn’t. I help her do extra assignments for extra credit to keep her grade up. She also studies with me to make sure she can memorize everything and pass her tests. Amelia is pretty good at the class, she’s luckily paired with Devyn most of the time. Carrying the potion to success, with a little bit of my secret help. It’s not cheating, it’s using your resources.

I’m resources.

“Potions is not that bad,” Devyn mocks me. “If it weren’t for you two I would have gone insane in that stupid class.”

Amelia just laughs at her while eating her hash browns on the plate. She reaches her hand out to take some more eggs.

“You were able to do it before. Not the way you were supposed to, but it worked,” Amelia says.

“Exactly, just start doing it your way at this point. I don’t think Slughorn will care how it’s done, just how it comes out.”

Devyn nods her head and points at me with a fork. Her mouth full of food so she settles for that response. My plate doesn’t have much other than some bacon and fruit. I’m not usually a breakfast eater. I get my appetite at lunch and dinner time. It’s just too early for a bunch of food smells, the smells make me kind of nauseous. I’ll eat though, enough to hold me off till lunch.

The chatter in the lunchroom rises by the minute. Everyone refilling themselves before their busy day. All energy levels rising while everyone wakes up from their groggy morning mood. While my friends finish eating we continue to talk about our classes and share the schedules for this year. Most classes we had were the same except for our electives. I tried taking as many electives as possible. My family back home never really did magic. I actually came a year and a half late since my family wanted me to have a normal school experience. I learned to do everything without the use of magic, the only thing my mom taught me was the floo network, creatures, and plants. I would often accompany her to Diagon Alley when she shops. I got an Owl for my 10th birthday. A cat would have been amazing if I wasn’t allergic to it. My owl is a brown and white-furred barn owl. Don’t ask me why I named it Bartholomew. I was ten okay, give me a break. Speaking of the floo network, my mom had to chase me through it quite often because I kept teleporting everywhere. I once ran into the Ministry of Magic’s building and got lost. They had to take me home to my parents. Their faces told me everything I needed to know about the punishment waiting for me.

Halfway through the second year is when I came to Hogwarts, a second letter coming that year asking my parents to let me learn more there. So when they finally let me attend, everything was pretty new to me. My mother was the magic one in the family. Her grandmother, my great-grandmother, before her had the magic gene. Going to school was the same experience as going from a muggle-borns perspective. The difference is, I knew more about its existence. I would look at yearbooks my mom had from when she went here. She earned a lot of titles, all the achievements being recorded down. I always wondered why she never wanted me to come here. Did something happen to me, to her? I’m guessing she just wanted a normal life with dad. He has always supported her through everything. A love, a bond like that is hard to come by. He would also learn about magic right next to me. At least, the stuff my mom allowed to let us know.

That’s why I want to learn as much as I can, of what’s available. Why learn math in the muggle world when I could be learning divination. Spells of all types, potions for everything of inconvenience. My chores could be completed with just a flick of my wand. I’ve lately been learning wandless magic, on my own. Albus has helped by providing me with material to study that type of magic. The only thing I’ve managed so far is a spark coming from the tips of my fingertips. Sparking hope that I could actually, maybe, achieve that level. Now I won't get my hopes up, but that can lead me to a certain advantage in dueling. That being one of my weakest skills. Always panicking, saying any spells that pop up in my mind, and making random movements coming from my wand. Often confusing who I’m up against, although they recover from that confusion fairly quickly.

Riddle, met him once. One too many if you would ask me. I dissuade ever wanting to speak to him. Arrogance and pride flow through his tongue like second nature. I do take pride in succeeding above him in 3 classes. He is 2 classes above me but, that’s not the point. I do admit, he’s attractive. Only a little though, how else would he charm his way through the professors and students.

“Alright, I’m ready to go. You guys done?”

“Yeah,” I say. Devyn and I start leaving our seats and heading towards the huge doors.

Amelia hurried from her seat, a few steps behind since she took some fruit with her to eat on the way. More and more students also started making their way towards the first period. Not wanting to be blamed for the loss of house points. This system causes so many fights, everyone’s competitive side getting the best of their common sense. I would be lying if I said it didn’t get the best of me before. Amelia being her usual bubbly self skips backward while chatting with us. Before we could warn her to stop, she pushes someone ahead of her. Both falling down, hitting the floor. She spins her head extremely quickly, her hair sticking in her mouth from the force of the wind.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” she explains. Quickly trying to digest her situation. I make my way towards her and pull her up. I fix her robe and dust off any dirt on the cloth from the floor.

“Clearly idiot, can you not use those bug eyes of yours to see?”

Devyn and I make eye contact. We understand that there are witnesses here, and one of them is bound to snitch on us if we fight. A huge scene would probably make Amelia feel even more embarrassed as well. Instead, I guided Amelia by her back. We continue on to class while I comfort her. Devyn is staying back to “talk” to the guy. Lestrange is in for it now, any poor soul would be when in the fiery path of her anger.

Devyn’s loud yells could still be slightly heard when entering the potions classroom. First class of the year, and day. On Slughorn’s table, I can see a vial with the wideye potion contained inside. I set Devyn’s textbook on her station, turning to the page that contains information on the potion. Hoping to save her confusion and time.

“Welcome, welcome! Nice to see some old faces, and new ones,” he says with the biggest grin on his face. “Today we’ll be learning about the Wideye potion. Can anyone tell me what this potion does?”

I quickly raise my hand, rather eager. I did some reading about a lot of potions during the summer. Trying to get a headstart on my studies. This potion being one of them. Only 3 students raised their hand, one of them being me. The other, well, Riddle.

“Yes, go ahead and answer,” the professor looks my way.

I smile, “The wideye potion prevents the person consuming the liquid the ability to fall asleep. Which is often used in the medical field to wake someone from a sleep caused by a blunt force or drug.”

“Precisely! 10 points.”

I look back rather smugly at Riddle, rather happy I got chosen instead of him. I know, he could have easily answered that too. I’ll let myself bask in the small achievement for now. 30 minutes of class is just spent writing down notes, preparing us for the potion we will make. Note-taking is my favorite, especially the little doodles I get to make. We use a feather instead of the regular pen. I found it rather amusing and liked the certain feeling of writing with it. The dipping noise that the point of the feather makes when hitting the liquid ink is a very profound sound. No real writer’s bump forming on my fingers.

“That’s enough writing, I need you all to prepare your cauldron, gather the materials you need, and start your potion. If done correctly, tomorrow when we add the finishing touches and check on it the potion should be a blue/green color,” Slughorn comments. “You have 10 minutes to study your notes, then the rest of the class to make your potion. No looking back at your notes after those ten minutes.”

After scanning my notes, I stand up and walk towards the ingredients on the shelves. If I remember correctly my potion requires snake fangs, standard ingredient, and wolfsbane. I gather all that in my hand and set it down near my cauldron. Before I start, I take a moment. I’m missing something, I’m sure there was another ingredient.

Wolfsbane, check.

Snake fangs, six of them.

I have the measures of Standard ingredient.

There’s one more, I try to look around the room. Then I remember that we get an automatic failing grade if caught cheating. There’s no way I’ll let my grade drop like that. Over something so small and inconvenient too. Making my way to the shelves, I scan over the ingredients over and over again. Trying to see if any of the names pop out to me.

No.

Definitely not.

That’s an ingredient?

I don’t even want to know how that one was obtained.

This one, of course it’s this one. I even remember putting a star next to the name in my notebook. Dried Billwig stings, I believe six of them were needed. All that time wasted. Hurrying to my seat I get to work. The time goes by quickly, all that could be heard was the sizzling and whooshing of our potions. I almost knocked down my vials a couple of times. Someone actually did, their time spent on cleaning the glass off the floor. After heating the first three ingredients, I crush them together in the mortar. Then stir clockwise from what I recall, three times specifically. Finally, I wave my wand over then leave it to brew.

Just in time from the looks of it. I glance at Devyn to see how it went for her, and she looks pretty proud of herself. I take that as a blessing that it didn’t blow up this time of round. I’m guessing she took our advice and did it her own way.

A student raises his hand, “May we leave?”

“Oh yes yes, go ahead. No assignments for the first day, only the potion you made in class.”

Before I leave the classroom I examine Riddle’s station. He already left the room. His potion looks similar to how mine turned out, his workspace thoroughly cleaned. Everything used properly placed back to where it should be. Perfectly spotless, not a single speck of dust in sight. All done without magic too, surprising for someone born into the wizarding world. When I mentioned that I met him once, it wasn’t much of anything. The only way I know how he really acts is through other people. Much admire his intelligence and strong will. Others are jealous of the potential he holds for the future.

Girls are already trying to slip love potions into his drinks. I would feel bad if he wasn’t so rude to them. Only just before touching the disrespectful line. He almost drank one of their attempts before. Wouldn’t want to imagine how that turned out. Tom riddle, in love. That man probably doesn’t know the feeling of happiness, let alone love. I feel bad for his future girlfriend, she’s going to have to deal with a handful of baggage.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

“How much do you want to bet Nott will demolish him?” A Gryffindor girl to my left whispers.

Nott, part of Riddle’s group from what I’ve seen. They all eat lunch together and talk to one another so it’s a reasonable guess. Very talented duellist, one of the bests here.

“I hate to admit it, but he’ll definitely win this. I’ll still have hope for the other guy though,” I whisper back trying not to sound mean.

Nott and the other Slytherin boy are up right now. It’s a courtesy for the audience to stay quiet until someone casts the first attack or defense. From then on all you will hear is shouting of encouragement and the opposite. Nott’s eyes are focused, zoning in on the opponent before him. His wand is steady, mouth slightly parted to breathe through better. Whole-body alert and tense waiting for something. From what I'm getting, I believe he’s waiting for the Slytherin boy to go first. Nott casts spells quickly and thinks them through decently. Sometimes you're not able to create a counter-spell quick enough to defend yourself against him.

Riddle’s group and himself are near the corner of the platform. All seemingly analyzing every breath he inhales and exhales. I finally hear the whoosh of a wand and a whiz of light fly past the platform. The glow from the spell lighting our faces for a millisecond. Nott quickly counters that spell and moves to cast his own. Magic flies across the platform, all of our eyes going back and forth like a ping-pong match. The Slytherin boy starts breaking a sweat. He’s only been able to get a couple of offensive spells in there, most of his plays spent throwing off Nott’s. If he doesn’t turn the battle soon, the outcome will become very clear.

It is a little less exciting since we only know a handful of spells. So whatever you know from your own studies you use in these duels. When we move up the years the class will become more serious and dangerous. Right now it’s just to teach us how to counter and cast quickly. The proper etiquette and movement. You use spells that you know, they aren’t supposed to harm someone. Either stun them, make them fly back, or disarm. Most of those spells require a little of a higher level, most of us not even knowing of its existence yet. So what’s mostly cast between competitors is a basic spell to exert force. That force should be aimed for the legs, or the wand to disarm that way. The way someone can win here is to make their knees or hands touch the floor, or disarm their wand. As I mentioned, it will get more intense as time goes by. We're only just starting 3rd year right now, a lot more charms will be learned later on.

I shake my head to get rid of any lingering thoughts. My attention goes right back to the duel taking place in front of me. Nott quickly aims a spell at the knees and manages to bring the other boy to his knees.

“Mr. Nott wins this duel! Please step off the platform, we will evaluate your performance.”

During the practice duels today, you watch it, think of ways to help the person improve, and point out things they might have done wrong. At the end, the professor picks people raising their hands to allow them to give their feedback. Participating is part of the grade you get in here. I personally prefer giving feedback then dueling. I’m not the best at casting, I do give out good defense spells though. That should mean something, I hope.

“Let’s start with Nott, does anyone have feedback for him?”

A couple of people spread apart raised their hands. One by one they all ask questions and give feedback. They mention his feet and posture when he stands. Arms fully stretched out where it would have been more flexible to bend it slightly. When he casts he shouldn’t be walking backward. They shortly switch to the other boy’s questions and feedback. The way he never gave himself the opening to cast an offensive spell often. He would move around his area a lot. Almost slipping off the stage during one of those movements. Tom and his group privately discussed with one another. They’re probably giving Nott their own feedback and suggestions privately.

“Now, Riddle I want you to come up and…,” he scans the room for another student. After some time he points his finger at me. “You.”

I could have had a smooth sailing class. I was so close to not having to go up there. My hands start sweating a bit, my anxiety jumbling my thoughts together. Riddle’s already up there and soon to be on his side of the platform. Taking his wand out and wandering his fingers over the design. I gulp, a big toad stuck in my throat. I wipe my hands on my robe and start up the stairs. Riddle seems as unbothered as ever. We bow, turn, then walk ten paces back. During this time I try predicting who will cast first. I don’t know him very well, I’ve also never seen him duel.

I take my dueling stance and wait for the signal to start. Hoping, praying, that I don’t embarrass myself. Slipping up is not allowed, not when going against him.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

Taglist:

@empath-bunny

#tom riddle x oc #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #lord voldemort #death eaters #voldemort #horcrux #hogwarts #harry potter #wizard #post wizarding war #enemies to allies #enemies to lovers #angst #oc #poc #Oc is any race #moldy voldy

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Chasing birds | T. W.

Talbott Winger x reader

not adding a taglist cause it's the first hphm fic I've posted so I'm not sure if you're into it

Summary: The reader realises Talbott is spending the holidays at Hogwarts and decides to stay behind too, to keep him company

Reader's house not specified!

Word count: 2195

Warnings: mentions of food, mentions of parent death, mentions of difficult family relationships

a/n: it's assumed the reader has helped him with the necklace, is an animagus (the form isn’t mentioned) and had the first date, valentines day and festival date with him. I also assumed the festival took place at the very beginning of year 5 while it was still summer and it's now the following winter.

Also, I pretended Bea didn’t get sucked into the portrait because I didn’t want Penny all sad.

It was safe to say that most of Hogwarts students were looking forward to the winter break. Some because of the Holidays, some purely because of the time off.

Some were counting down the days since the very beginning of the term, some since November 1st, some from the moment the castle grounds had been graced with the first snow of the season.

Winter had its own charm to it. The castle got its share of sunlight during the warmer months, towards the end of the school year, as the summer was approaching, and at the very beginning of it as the summer was slowly fading away. But once the grounds were covered in snow, the grand castle seemed even brighter – the winter sunlight and sky is different but all that light, reflecting off the snow and amplifying, seeped through the windows.

You were already filled with anticipation, more and more with each day that separated you from Christmas break.

You were currently counting down the minutes till the charms class ended, your last class that Friday – minutes to your last weekend before Christmas. You divided your attention between encouraging the blond Gryffindor in lifting his feather and the watch on your hand ticking away.

“Alright then, dear students, that’s all for today! Some of you I will not be seeing until the next term so I’d like to wish you all Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and may you all have a nice rest before the new term starts! Class dismissed.” Said Flitwick cheerfully as a chorus of thanks and all kinds of wishes followed, before the students began to pour out of the classroom.

“Gee, you’d think there was a fire…”  you heard Jae say groggily from behind you as he was getting up from his nap and stretched lazily. You looked at the crowd trying to squeeze through the door and chuckled, agreeing with him.

When the crowd thinned a bit, you saw someone you immediately recognised walk into the classroom. You smiled to yourself at the sight and involuntarily paused your actions to look at the tall boy in his Ravenclaw robes try to push through the students with a bit of a grimace on his face. You could almost hear his thoughts in your head.

“You coming, Y/N?” said Rowan from beside you.

At the sound of your name Talbott looked up in your direction and you briefly met his eyes. He smiled as soon as he saw you and you smiled back at him, waving your hand lightly. He raised his hand in response for just half a second before turning his attention to Flitwick.

“Coming,” you said quietly, turning to Rowan who now was standing with arms crossed on her chest and suppressing a grin.

“Ohh shut up..” you said jokingly flinging your bag over your shoulder.

“I did not say a thing..!” she countered, giggling.

On your way out, you managed to hear a bit of Talbott’s conversation with Flitwick.

“He’s staying at school for holidays..?” Rowan mentioned, looking over her shoulder after you left the classroom.

“Yeah…” you went quiet for a bit, thinking.

You had to admit, you hadn’t thought about it before, but it was quite logical. When you first learned about Talbott’s parents, you never pressed the topic further and you didn’t know whether he had any other family, someone to spend the holidays with. And during all those times you spent Christmas at Hogwarts, was he at the castle too? Hiding away somewhere, alone?

“You know, I gotta do something real quick. Meet you in the dorm later?” you said to your friend, already quickening your pace, finger-gunning in her direction.

“Sure, yeah,” she answered, a bit puzzled, yet entirely used to it.

 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 “Oh I am so excited, I can’t wait! You see, each year Bea and I, we have a gingerbread house making contest. Neither one of us is very good at it, but it’s so much fun. Mum always has both of them on display…”

You listed to Penny ramble in excitement about Christmas over dinner and couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“Oooh, Talbott! Talbott, come on over here!” she called over your head all of a sudden, waving energetically at the boy who just looked as if he got caught, but walked over to your table anyway, then sat down opposite you with a quiet greeting.

“What about you, Y/N? Are you going home for the holidays this year?” Penny asked curiously.

Your heart rate picked up a bit, before you answered, “No, I’m staying here,” you glanced at Talbott and met his eyes before he looked back down onto his plate.

“Oh, ok,” said Penny, before changing the topic.

 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 The case with Talbott wasn’t so easy. Your crush on him started with you being simply intrigued. You met him in your third year and there was just something about him that wouldn’t allow you to just let him be, no matter how tall he put up his walls. You felt the need to make him feel comfortable around you and you wanted to get to know him better. That’s how you became friends.

But when you did get to know him, that’s when you were truly lost. His wit, sarcastic sense of humour. His calmness and collectiveness. And him opening up to you felt more rewarding than anything else.

There were so many moments between you, the dates you went on, where you wanted to just take a dive and go all in, and each time you were closer to doing so. But in the end, you were scared of scaring him away, even if he showed time and time that he felt the same way. He even announced out loud that you were his date at the festival!

Still, each time you got back to the starting point, stuck somewhere between friends and lovers.

 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 You woke up a bit giddy and slightly nervous. Last afternoon all the students not staying at school for the holidays left. You got freshened up and dressed, then headed to the great hall for breakfast.

When you walked through the great entrance you scanned the four, almost empty tables. And there he was indeed, at the very end of the Ravenclaw table, as usual.

“Talbott!” you greeted, sliding into the seat next to him.

He hadn’t noticed you approaching and got a bit startled, “Y/N, Merlin…” he said, putting down his toast and placing a hand over his chest, “what are you doing here?”

“Tsk, already so accusatory. I came here to have breakfast with you and spend some quality time together!” You said in an exaggerated tone.

You could’ve sworn you saw a hint of a smile creeping up onto his face and he looked around the whole room.

He scanned the tables to see if any other friends of yours stayed over the holidays or if maybe there were none, leaving you with no other choice but to sit with him. Upon noticing Chiara and Jae a bit further away he turned back around lifted one eyebrow, acknowledging, and took a sip of his coffee.

Suddenly, you became painfully aware that the last time you properly spend time together, with just the two of you, was during the outdoor festival. And there you were, sitting side by side, doing something so casual and everyday as having breakfast.

It was also uncommon for you to see Talbott out of his school robes. He had this magical talent of looking good in just about anything. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a plain turtleneck, his hair, as always, smart and neat and just the right amount of messy.

“Aren’t you eating?” he called you out with a bit of a smirk, not gracing you with a glance, and got back to his own food.

With a guilty blush and no confidence to strike up a further conversation, you focused on your breakfast.

“So how are you doing lately?” he asked after a few minutes, having finished eating, and sipped on the rest of his coffee slowly.

“Uh, alright. Considering everything,” you answered and he nodded slowly. “You?”

He shrugged his shoulders with an indifferent expression, “As per usual. So what made you stay at school this year? Your mum away..?” he inquired.

“Eeh… irrelevant,” you tried to dismiss the question.

“Ooh-kaay…” Talbott replied.

“Do you have any plans?” you asked quickly.

“Uhh… I was going to just read for a bit..?”

“Great! And in general, for the holidays?” you questioned further.

“Y/N, where are you going with this?” he asked, puzzled.

You mustered up all your courage for the moment you’ve been waiting for since you told your head of the house you’d be staying in the castle for the holidays.

“I thought we could spend Christmas together,” you started, taking Talbott by surprise.

“Y/N, do I look like a Christmas person to you?” he asked after a second.

You looked him up and down, “Very much so.”

He sighed deeply and leaned his elbows on the table, hiding his face in his hands. You knew he was debating it and you almost had him on board.

“Aww, come on, Tal! It’ll be fun!” You shook him by the shoulders, making him groan.

“I swear, you’ll be the death of me,” he said and you tried to tame the grin on your face and the butterflies in your stomach.

 After finishing your food you rushed to your dorm to owl Rowan as quickly as possible.

 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 “Do you like snow?” you questioned after you went outside into the grounds.

Talbott chuckled, “Who do you take me for? I’m not that much of a bore, am I?” he teased you.

“No, I just…” you mumbled.

“Although it does get in the way when you try to fly during a snowfall…” he cut you off, walking a bit further, and crouched down, facing away from you.

It took you a second to realize what he was doing. You looked around, trying to find cover and ducked, but it was too late, you got hit with a snowball.

If you weren’t so focused on getting revenge, which turned into a full snow fight, maybe you’d take some time to admire him. The way little snowflakes rested on his hair, how his eyes looked when he focused or how bright he was smiling.

“Alright, alright, I surrender!” Talbott put his hands up and you felt relief, as you were starting to get tired, but you didn’t have it in you to give in first.

“Don’t mess with the curse-breaker, Winger,” you said in playful smugness, walking out from behind your cover and up to him.

“Yeah, yeah…” he started, “go inside or you’ll freeze, you’re covered in snow” he brushed some of it off your shoulder, and you were glad you had already been blushing from the cold.

 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

 “On the Christmas morning Jacob and I used to wake up to a pile of presents at the foot the bed each,” you started, “I always loved Christmas. But after he disappeared things at home changed. I know mum is trying, but it’s difficult sometimes, especially during the holidays…” You reminisced, looking down at your hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate.

“My mum really liked Christmas,” Talbott said, “She’d always get so into it, with the decorations, she used to make them herself, too… and she’d sing to me. I don’t think my dad was as much into it, but he tried to keep up for her,” he smiled a little wider to himself. “It was really nice,” he confided.

Your heart ached for the boy next to you. After he had to go through so much, you deeply wished to make it your mission, to bring as much happiness to his life as you could, even if to brighten it up just a little.

“So you don’t hate Christmas after all, huh..?” you said quietly.

He answered after a moment, “No, not Christmas itself.”

“I was hoping I could make it a little bit better. Maybe show you that it can still be nice,” you confessed.

He looked up at you, “That’s… Y/N, I don’t know what to say,” he trailed off.

Unsure of where to go from there either, you took one of his hands in yours.

“Y/N,” he softly prompted you to look up at him.

His face was close to yours and he glanced between your eyes and your lips, silently asking for permission. You inched a bit closer and he closed the distance, cupping your cheek with his hand.

Unsure at first, he relaxed after a second and you melted into him. His lips were really soft and warm an you placed your hands on his shoulders. You could smell his perfume mixed with his natural smell, the smell you adored, and which brought you comfort. Talbott kissed you tenderly and you felt absolutely ecstatic, sure that if he weren’t holding onto you, you’d collapse.

He pulled away only slightly and rested his forehead on yours.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he whispered.

“Merry Christmas, Talbott.”

#hphm #talbott winger #talbott winger x reader #talbott x mc #hphm talbott #hphm imagine