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#cough ron cough cough ginny
simping-4-voldemort · 9 months
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Onion Headlines and Harry Potter Characters part 23/?
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toothfa-1-ry · 7 months
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DRACO MALFOY IS A LOSER (in the best way possible)
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Draco Malfoy is always portrayed as such a confident, cocky and arrogant way but I DISAGREE
My Draco Malfoy is a loser agenda is never going down.
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The same Draco Malfoy who makes sure that you eat something before class but he's too busy making sure you eat that he sometimes forgets to eat
The same Draco Malfoy who would try braiding your hair (but fails miserably)
The same Draco Malfoy who you caught watching hair tutorials at 4 am in the morning
The same Draco Malfoy who says that he doesn't want to watch muggle movies with you because "it's so boring" but watches them anyways and ends up quoting them everytime
"that green scarf looks so fetch on you babe"
"what?!"
"sooo fetch!"
The same Draco Malfoy who thinks that your dying whenever you catch cold
*coughs*
"oh my god are you dying?"
"what no- Draco I just have a-" you cough again
"oh my god your dying"
The same Draco Malfoy who doesn't like anyone touching his hair but if it's you he doesn't mind
The same Draco Malfoy who believes that he should be in a loreal ad after you showed him one in your rectangle glowing box (your phone)
The same Draco Malfoy pretends to hate it when you force him to do skincare but secretly he loves it
The same Draco Malfoy who was caught writing a love letter to you at 5 am in morning by Matteo and Theodore (they always make fun of him now)
The same Draco Malfoy who asks Pansy what he should wear to your date 5 hours before the actual date
The same Draco Malfoy who (tried) asking you the muggle pick up lines he heard Ron saying to Hermione
"is you dad a baker? Cause your such a pumpkin pie- I mean apple pie- wait? Pecan pie?"
The same Draco Malfoy thinks that green apples are superior to red apples for the sole reason that they are green
The same Draco Malfoy who had to be hyped up by all his friends for 5 hours straight in his 3rd year just for him to go and say hi to you and then run away.
The same Draco Malfoy who had to be (again) hyped up by all his friends for 2 days straight just to ask you to be his Yule ball date
The same Draco Malfoy who lip syncs to Mariah Carey in his dorm
The same Draco Malfoy who once challenged Blaise to a duel in his 2nd year except he never showed up (apparently he overslept)
The same Draco Malfoy who apolagized to you when you guys kisses for the first time, apparently it was his first time too
The same Draco Malfoy who would secretly listen to you and Pansy gossip and then later ask you what you guys were talking about
"what do you mean Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter kissed?!"
"yea..infront of Ron too"
"what!!"
The same Draco who would ask you to kiss him goodnight every night or else you might have bad dreams
"kissing me goodnight is like your lucky charm y/n"
"suree babe"
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emeritusemeritus · 9 months
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Me, however. [Fred Weasley]
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(Gif not mine)
Title: Me, However.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader, implied Ron Weasley x Hermione Granger.
Timeline: Non-specified.
Summary: Ginny doesn’t find ginger men attractive, the same can’t be said for her friends.
Warnings: Mentions of implied sex, mainly just fluff and humour. Some original background characters have been created just for purposes of the story.
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"I'm just saying, ginger men are literally the worst looking, I'd never chose one," Ginny says harshly, raising her hands in defeat at she makes her point.
"Gee thanks sis," Fred says, leaning forward to tap her on the back of the head, not to hurt her but just enough to ruffle her hair and frustrate her.
"Yeah, way to make a guy feel pretty," George mutters with the same playful tone as his brother, flicking out his long hair as if to push it sassily over his shoulder. Ginny simply roles her eyes at their behaviour, turning to Parvati who tries to argue the point.
"Yeah but Septimus Goshawk, he's ginger and he's fit!" Parvati says arguing the point, met with an enthusiastic nod from her sister. Fred and George sat back with smug looks on their face at the new information, shooting a 'told you' look towards Ginny.
"Or Rigby Tennerfink!" Padma piped up, mentioning the wizard singer, one of the infamous heartthrobs.
"Gross!" Ginny scrunched her face up, picturing the red haired singer serenading a crowd of adoring women. "The only man for me is Aegus Troy," she adds, a smile passing her lips as she daydreams about the blonde Irish Chaser.
"Ginny, you used to fancy Gilderoy Lockhart, you're hardly one to talk," Hermione laughs, earning a chuckle from the group.
"And you fancy Ron so you're entirely biased!" Ginny replies, laughing at Hermione who tries to protest but it's a hopeless endeavour. "I need someone who is completely neutral here and doesn't fancy one of my brothers"
"Have you seen Bill? That'll be hard to find!" Parvati says, earning a giggle from the girls in the group. Fred and George groan simultaneously in defeat at hearing their oldest brother's name brought up, once again being the target of girls affections.
"Aha! Y/n!"
You walk down the stairs from your dorm, throwing a cardigan over your shoulders as you walked, only to be greeted by the group in the common room who all look up at you expectedly as Ginny calls you over.
"You're unbiased," she begins to say, pausing briefly as you move to be beside the couch where George and Fred sat, perching on the arm of the sofa next to Fred.
"I don't know, dark magic isn't really my thing," you say sarcastically, earning a chuckle from the brothers next to you.
"Not that! Are ginger men unattractive? I need someone unbiased, someone who hasn't shagged or wants to shag my brothers," she says, getting comically irate as she desperately tries to prove her point. 
George suddenly snorts out a loud laugh that he desperately tries to cover with a fake cough, leading Ginny to shoot daggers at him and then you.
"You haven't!" She spits out, turning her head to shoot daggers at her brother. "George!"
"Course not!" He says trying to seem as honest as he can as he raises his hands in surrender.
"No way," you reply sincerely.
"I would never do that to you," George says in complete honesty, though his resolve is cracking quickly and you can hear a tone of humour in his voice, though it appears Ginny didn't pick up on it.
"Oh," Ginny says, realising her mistake and shooting an apologetic look at you and then George.
"Me however..." Fred says with a laugh, admitting everything, immediately making a blush form on your cheeks as you all laugh at Ginny's over the top gasp. She throws a cushion at Fred who laughs, grabbing it and throwing it onto his brother beside him. He then reaches up to grab you and slide you across into his lap as you squeal, feeling his cold hands wrapping around your waist as he holds you firmly on his lap, placing a kiss in your hair, finally able to in public now the secret was out.
"No way! Do I not have one friend that hasn't slept with my brothers?!"
"We haven't," Padma and Parvati say quickly and defensively in complete sync.
"Although if Bill offered..." Padma adds, causing another groan to fall from Fred and George. George dramatically groans and falls back to lean on you as Fred's head drops into your shoulder in disgust, causing you to laugh.
"Well at least I know who my true friends are," Ginny huffs, though her words hold no weight as she smiles sarcastically.
"Or future sister in laws," George quips, only to be smacked by another cushion, this time launched by Hermione.
When no laugh comes from Fred as expected, you turn to look at him questioningly only to be met with a small smile tugging at his lips. When he catches you looking, he offers a sort of one sided shrug, eyebrows raising with a wide smile, as if he completely agreed with George.
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lovebotmo · 4 months
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like the movies
chapter one - falling behind
series masterlist
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
wc: 1199
author’s note: i am so excited for this first chapter. im forcing myself to pace these so i don't get burned out LMAO. i hope you enjoy this first installment!!! also not beta read so fight me.
song inspiration: "like the movies" by laufey
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“Why haven’t you ever dated, Y/n?”
While the question had been relatively simple, its forwardness sent you into a coughing fit while sipping your coffee at breakfast. Sitting across from the inquirer, Luna Lovegood, you quickly mopped up your spill while throwing her a dirty look. The conversation at your table that morning in the Great Hall had consisted of relationships, past, present, and mind-numbing, wobbly-kneed crushes, but you hadn’t expected the focus of the chat to turn towards you.
To your right, your dearest friend, Hermione Granger, quickly jumped to your defense. “It’s not that simple, Luna. There are a number of perfectly good reasons why someone does or does not, in Y/n’s case, date!”
Hermione seemed absolutely content with her answer, patting you gently on the back with a kind smile. Her sympathy made you groan before you dropped your head into your hands. “For the love of Merlin, can we please discuss something—”
Ginny Weasley plopped down on your right, eager to give her two cents on the matter of your abysmal dating record. “I mean, you’ve had people interested in you, right? None of them have piqued your fancy? What’s his face—um…Lee Jordan! He asked you out a few months ago, right? What about him?”
“What about Cormac?” asked Hannah Bones. “I know he’s a bit of a tosser, but he’s not bad to look at. I sit next to him in Transfiguration, I could introduce you!”
Increasingly irritated with the course of the conversation, you piped up. “Thank you, Hannah, but I’ve got no interest in—”
Ginny interrupted, “What about one of my brothers? They’re bloody idiots, no doubt, but I’m sure I could put in a good word. What’s your type? Hmm—you into the whole cheeky thing Fred and George have going on—”
“Enough!” The four girls stared at you and your face that could easily rival a tomato with its present scarlet hue. A silence washed over the nearby tables in the Great Hall. A few odd looks were thrown at you from the surrounding students before their conversations recommenced. “As much as I appreciate your intense interest in my lack of relationships, I don’t feel like fleshing it out over cinnamon rolls and sausage links at 8:00 a.m. in the morning, if you lot don’t mind.”
The girls quickly began to apologize before you hushed them. “It’s totally fine, seriously, I just don’t want to get into it. We’re all good. Promise.”
As if sensing that you weren’t entirely ‘good,’ Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but Hermione beat her to it. “Y/n and I have got to get going if we’re going to make it to Potions. We’ll see you guys later, alright?” You could have snogged the life out of Hermione for the offered escape route. You and Hermione both knew you had another thirty minutes before your first class, but what the three girls didn’t know wouldn’t kill them. After swiftly packing up her things, Hermione linked her arm with yours, whisking you away from the other three.
Even though your next class was in the dungeons, Hermione steered you towards an unfamiliar corridor, one she had likely found on the vast number of adventures she, Harry, and Ron had found themselves in over the years. Arms still intertwined; she sat you both on a bench. After sitting in a few moments of silence, you squeezed her arm and spoke, “Thanks, ‘Mione.”
Returning your squeeze, she smiled. “I figured you could use a break from that inquisitive lot. They can be a bit much, altogether at once. Merlin knows how they’ll react when I tell them about Ron and me.” The two of you looked at each other in stunned silence before bursting into laughter. Hermione laughed at the imaginary image of shock and disbelief she imagined would appear on Ginny’s face. You laughed, however, at the thought that anyone could be unaware to the obvious affection shared between the couple. You doubted that Filch, perhaps the most oblivious man to ever inhabit Hogwarts, couldn’t see the feelings that had steadily been growing between Hermione and Ron since their first year. Feelings you had yet to experience at Hogwarts, despite your desperate desire to.
As if sensing your thoughts, Hermione peered into your face before softly speaking, “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I won’t push you or anything, but I just want you to know you have an ear if you want one.”
Considering her words, you peered at the ceiling that seemed miles away. Of all the people you knew at Hogwarts, Hermione might have been the best to unburden yourself to.
You turned to look at her before speaking. “Well, it’s like this. Take Lee Jordan for example—when he asked me out, he found me after Defense Against the Dark Arts and just said, ‘Want to go out sometime, L/N?’ And that’s it! I mean, it took him all of four seconds to ask—and I don’t know…I asked him why he wanted to go out with me—which let me tell you he gave me quite a funny look because of my question—before he said, ‘Well, you’re fit and nice.’    
Hermione laughed at Lee’s simplistic answer before you continued. “Don’t get me wrong, it was a fine answer, and I appreciated the ‘fit’ part especially,” you said, winking at Hermione, “But that was the whole exchange. No real effort, no deep interest in me. It was simple.”
Hermione smiled at you, “But you don’t want simple, do you?”
You shrugged. “I guess not? Believe me, I don’t want a live performance where the man of my dreams serenades me with a homemade song listing my manifold of attractions.” This time you joined Hermione in her laughter. “I’d rather die on the spot, honestly, than endure that, but the point is I don’t want to be asked out just to be asked out. I want someone who’s thought about it, someone who’s noticed the little things about me, and lets me know that he has noticed them. I want to be wooed, goddammit!”
Hermione pealed in laughter for a solid minute before she managed to catch her breath. Smiling, she replied, “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be ‘wooed’, Y/n. Godric knows Ron could stand to do a bit more ‘wooing’ when it comes to us.”
Turning your body fully to Hermione, you took her hands into yours, earnestly. “You don’t think I’m asking for too much? Being too high maintenance? I mean, I suppose we are young and still learning after all and—”
“Y/n, no. There is nothing wrong with wanting to know if someone truly likes you and wanting them to show it.” She squeezed your hands in assurance.
“Are you positively sure, because honestly—”
“I am absolutely sure, Y/n.”
“One hundred percent sure?”
“What do you think absolute means, Y/n?”
“…Point taken, ‘Mione.”
“Now then,” she said, standing and dragging you along with her, “we really must head off to Potions if we don’t want to be late.”
Trotting behind her, you smiled at your ever-punctual friend, “Yes ma’am.”
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frenziedfireworks · 10 months
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Summer Break
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Fred Weasley x Reader
Summary : You visit your best friends over Summer break.. Little did you expect, George figured out your secret.
A/N : I've been rereading the books and have brainrot. I wrote this a few nights ago and didn't fully proofread it !! (If there are mistakes.. no there isn't ;^> )
You had been staying in the Burrow for Summer break. Being best friends with the twins meant you were accustomed to spending the holidays with them. As Fred had put it, “If you don’t come it’ll break mums heart.” Although you didn’t think Molly minded that much, you did want to spend some more time with them. Much to your dismay though, George had found out about your little crush on his brother.
The weather was scorching as you and George degnomed the garden. Molly had said something about the fireworks being too much and that the three of you had to clean. Fred was sent off to do the front yard and left you with his dear brother. 
“You’ve been staring at Freddie an awful lot. Wouldn’t be falling for the less-handsome twin, would you?” George’s elbow knocked into you, watching as you got nervous.
“I-I have not. Shut it!” You smacked the boy in return and his eyes widened. 
“I was only joking but now I think I struck a nerve. Do you actually like Fred?” 
You could only sigh. You knew it was only a matter of time before someone noticed but you had hoped it wouldn’t be George. 
“Not a word George. Not a single word.” You glared at the boy as you chucked a gnome far away. George whistled as the two of you watched it drop.
“I don’t know Y/N.. What’s in it for me?” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, sly smirk only growing with your agitation.
“You’re as bad as Peeves. Don’t tell him and I won’t kill you, alright? I know where you sleep.” You snorted as George mocked being stabbed.
“Bad as Peeves. That’s a new one. Fine, I won’t say anything.” The boy huffed and the two of you got back to cleaning.
Dinner had been served and everyone was chowing down. Fred had piled an enormous amount of food onto his plate, shooting you a wink as you rolled your eyes.
“You have enough there?” You raised an eyebrow and the boy hummed.
“Just enough. At least it’s not as much as Ron.” Fred motioned over to Ron who looked as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
Hermione scoffed at Ron.
“The two of you are as bad as eachother.” She glared at Fred, eliciting a laugh from the table.
Dinner went along swimmingly, George and Fred talking to you about jokes and such, an occasional chime in from Ginny or Hermione. It wasn’t until it was over that you got nervous.
You looked over, noticing George staring at Fred. They were both deep in thought, small smirks adorning their faces. Usually you wouldn’t be worried about any tricks or secrets but now that George had known yours.. Well you were scared.
They stood up at the same time and yanked you with them.
“Thanks for dinner mum!”
“Yeah it was so good!” 
The twins yelled their thanks as if that would distract everyone from them kidnapping you. You struggled for a second until you accepted it.
“What in the world are we doing?!” 
“Surprise.” Fred murmured, dragging you into their room.
You sat down on the bed as both of them circled their trunk, yanking out firecrackers. George shifted, eyes meeting yours. He winked at you before starting to cough.
“Fuck.” George sat down on his bed, holding his chest. You realized very quickly what he was trying to do. He was going to leave you alone with Fred. 
Fred eyed him, grabbing at the fireworks he was holding.
“You good mate?” 
George shook his head. 
“No. I think I’ve had something bad to eat.” He got up, darting out to the bathroom. Fred was left looking shocked.
“Well. Don’t reckon he’s gonna be joining us anytime soon.” Fred laughed and your heart sped up. You chuckled along, the anxiety eating you alive. 
“What are we doing then?” You questioned and he held his hand out.
“I thought we could go out past the hills. Y’know, where we practice quidditch. Wouldn’t want mum getting mad again.” 
“Fireworks?” You asked, placing your hand in his. His grin only grew bigger as the two of you set out.
“Right you are, dear. Ever so observant.” Fred teased, shoveling the rest of the fireworks into his pockets. 
The two of you made your way through the cold night, Fred’s incessant talking about his new candies filling the void.
Once you had reached the area Fred had automatically begun setting up. He dropped the blanket on the ground and sprawled the fireworks out in front of you.
“Since I’m such a nice guy I’ll let you choose. Go on, let’s see what we get.” Fred egged you on, eyes sparkling in excitement. You couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction and reached for the furthest left. 
“Mm. Good choice. You ready or do you need a moment?” You nodded your head for him to continue, your eyes wandering his body as he threw the flaming ball. 
“Silencio!” Fred bolted back onto the blanket, his head falling straight into your lap. You felt yourself grow more aware of how sweaty your hands were as they laid on his shoulders or the fact that your legs twitched a little too much. 
Thanks to Fred’s ingenious charm the firework went off without a sound, a red and orange hue lighting the sky. It was a normal firework for what seemed like a few seconds before it fizzled into little hearts. You cooed at the cute sentiment and felt yourself get more anxious. Had George known for longer than you expected? Maybe he had rigged the fireworks? Or maybe you were just overthinking.. 
“You’re thinking too much and not enjoying the show you know.” Fred poked at your jaw, a large smile on his face as he readjusted himself. You looked down at him and noticed how good he looked. The moonlight was lighting just enough so you could see his features, his big eyes fluttering shut with a sigh.
“The show? I saw the fireworks, you muppet.” You snorted and rolled your eyes. His grin grew even wider in his usual devious fashion.
“Well that was only the prelude of course. I am the main show.” Fred batted his eyelashes in a comical fashion, his hands circling his face. 
You let out a laugh. He would be the death of you.
“Oh really? That’s a damn shame.” You yawned sarcastically, fingers making their way through his ginger locks. Fred just hummed in response, body relaxing in your touch.
The two of you stayed like that for a while. No sounds, no distractions, just the two of you alone. You had to admit that you had never seen Fred so mellow. You thought of it as a good sign. That he trusted you enough to let his guard down. 
“It’s nice just being here with you. I’m glad George put on a show and ditched us.” Fred whispered. You looked down to see him already staring up at you. He cracked a small smile as his hand ghosted over your jawline. All the breath in your lungs left as he traced your skin. Sure, the two of you had been handsy before but all under the guise of being best friends. It had never felt this tense or so electrified.
“Yeah.” You mumbled out, taken with the way his rough fingers padded over you. You knew damn well that your skin was on fire and he could feel the slight tremble in your legs.
“I’m gonna do something, okay?” Fred propped himself up on an arm and leaned forward. His hand pulled you ever closer until his breath was fanning over your lips.
Fred’s nose nudged yours, lips finally meeting. It was an awkward angle for a few seconds before the two of you got the rhythm. His hand ran up your back and gripped at your shirt as if you would blow away. You grabbed at his shoulders, his empty arm pulling you into his lap. 
The two of you were about to deepen the kiss when another firework went off. This time, not so silent at all. 
Your shaken eyes met that of a figure further down the hill who was running back like a madman. Then you heard the voice.
“I’ve done it! I’ve done it! Just call me Cupid!” George danced a bit, motioning a finger gun to his brother who groaned.
“Oh please do invite me to the wedding! I expect to be the best man.” George yelled as he continued his trek back to the house. 
“Reckon Ronald will get that spot!” You chortled back and Fred collapsed in a pit of laughter.
“On my dead corpse Y/N!”
“Merlin’s beard, what am I going to do with you two.” Fred placed a delicate kiss to your cheek and pulled you into a hug.
You felt full and content being in his arms. You hadn’t expected the day to change so quickly but you were glad it did. Grabbing the side of Fred’s jaw you peppered a few light smooches.
“You’re stuck with me now, Weasley.”
“Wasn’t I already stuck with you before?” Fred nipped at your lip.
“Guess so..” You whispered to continue where the two of you had left off.
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hjparisian · 4 months
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christmas kiss- harry j potter x reader
p: harry j potter x fem!reader w: fluff, not proofread summary: spending christmas with harry and the gang at hogwarts a/n: lil thing i whipped up, sorry its not the best. happy holidays everyone !
Christmas time at Hogwarts was one of the most gorgeous times of the year. The halls were decorated in holiday glee, Christmas trees lined the Great Hall thanks to Hagrid and the house elves. A white blanket of snow covered the grounds of the school, adding to the winter spirit.
Few students littered the halls of Hogwarts, most returning to homes to celebrate this wonderful holiday with family, but that didn't ruin the Christmas cheer.
(Y/N) (L/N) sat alone in her dorm, doing some very last minute gift wrapping. Her dormmates went home and her parents had something come up last minute which meant she would have to stay at the castle.
She didn't mind though. Especially when Harry was staying along with Hermione and the Weasleys. It was a bit exciting to be able to spend the holiday break with her friends.
(Y/N) was wrapping the last gift, which was a scarf and a broom kit for Harry. The boy had been complaining about the state of his firebolt, so (Y/N) had bought the kit to help him fix up his broom (as well as to stop the complaining). The scarf was something she knitted herself, noticing Harry's slight shiver in the colder months as he lost his Gryffindor scarf.
Harry had always been a wonderful friend to her since they started bonding in their second year. But (Y/N) would be lying if she said she just saw him as a friend. His boyish charm didn't fail to captivate her and his loyalty and kindness was something she had always admired.
Once she finished wrapping the last gift, (Y/N) gathered the rest of the gifts to bring to the Gryffindor common room. After speaking the current password to the portrait of the Fat Lady, (Y/N) spotted the trio.
"Merry Christmas everyone!" (Y/N) announced to her friends.
Hermione was the first to greet her, taking the gifts from her arms before wrapping her arms around her in a hug.
"Merry Christmas (Y/N)!"
Ron came up and greeted her in a hug as well. Harry was last to greet her, but was the best. His hugs felt like home.
"Where's Fred, George, and Ginny?" (Y/N) inquired, noticing the absence of three red heads.
"They're all outside in the snow," Ron told her. "We told them we'd meet up with them in a bit."
(Y/N) nodded. "Well, I have your guys' gifts if you'd like to open it," she said as she began handing them their respective gifts.
Ron did not hesitate to rip the wrapping paper off his, revealing sweets from Honey Dukes, a winter hat, and a poster of his favorite Chudley Cannons Players.
"This is wicked, (Y/N)!"
Hermione unwrapped her presents with care. She received a planning journal and a book of wizarding history.
"Oh, (Y/N). I love it!"
(Y/N) knew Ron and Hermione would enjoy their gifts, but she had a bit more worry on what Harry would think of his. Maybe Harry expected something more. What if he hated his gift?
Finally, Harry unwrapped his present. The corners of his lips turn upward upon seeing what he got. The sight began to put (Y/N) at ease, but her worries still consumed the back of her mind.
Harry grabbed the scarf, feeling the texture between his fingers.
"This is lovely, (Y/N). Did you make this scarf?"
The girl smiled, glad Harry enjoyed his gifts. "I did. Took a while to get it to look perfect."
"Well it look stunning. Thank you (Y/N)," Harry said to her, wrapping her in another hug.
Ron coughed, causing them to break apart. A sly smile appeared on his face.
"Hate to ruin the moment, but I think my brothers and sister are waiting for us."
"Wait, but (Y/N) hasn't opened any of our gifts," Hermione exclaimed. "Oh, but I left yours in my room."
"It's fine Hermione. I can open it later." (Y/N) reassured her. "Besides. I'm ready to go out in the snow."
The four of them went to meet the twin and Ginny out in the castle grounds, where they found them making a snowman.
"Finally," Fred said. "We've been waiting ages for you lot."
"Thought we would have to drag you here ourselves," said George.
"We didn't take that long," Ron huffed at them. "Besides you guys w-"
A snowball hit Ron in the face, stopping his sentence. He wiped the snow off his face, revealing his now slightly red face.
"Oi! What gives?" He said before another snowball hit his shoulder.
"How about less talking," George began.
"And more snowball fighting," Fred said before he and George ran from Ron.
Ron groaned. "Oh alright. Come on guys."
Hermione shook her head. "You guys can go ahead. I'll help Ginny with her snowman."
"Suit yourself," said Ron. "Let's go Harry, (Y/N)."
Ron, Harry and (Y/N) joined Fred and George on their snowball fight. The twins mainly threw at Ron since they thought it was funny, but didn't fail to make an aim at each other or (Y/N) and Harry.
(Y/N) had caught up to Harry, who stood back watching as Fred and George used their wands to cast a pile of snow onto Ron, who began to spit curses at them while digging his way out to chase after them.
"So how has your break been," Harry asked the girl.
"It's been good," she told him. "It's a bit sad I can't celebrate Christmas with my parents, but at least I'm celebrating with you."
Harry flushed a bit. "I'm glad to be celebrating with you too."
"So," (Y/N) began. "Do you really like the scarf?"
Harry nodded. "I love it. I can't believe you made it for me."
"I'd do anything for you, Harry," She said truthfully.
"Anything?"
(Y/N) nodded, feeling her face flush. "Of course. You mean the world to me, you always help me with anything so why wouldn't I do the same?"
"Then you wouldn't mind giving me a kiss?"
(Y/N) was taken back by Harry's words.
"A kiss?"
Harry nodded his head, suddenly feeling shy despite his bold words.
"A kiss. But only if you want to," he quickly said. "It's fine if you don't, we can just forget I even asked. Honestly it's probably silly for me to-"
Harry's tangent was cut off by a pair of soft lips on his. He was a bit shocked by it, not expecting it. He gave in, kissing the girl back.
Unfortunate for him, (Y/N) was the first to pull back, the warmth of her lips leaving his. The two stood in brief silence, staring into each other bright eyes.
"That was."
"Nice," (Y/N) said. "Really nice."
"Yeah, really nice," Harry agreed.
"So, does this mean you like me?" (Y/N) asked. Her heartbeat was racing and it felt like the snowflakes around them were floating in her stomach. This was either going to go good or bad.
"Depends. Do you like me?"
"Yeah," (Y/N) responded. "I do."
"I like you too, (Y/N). Like you for a while actually," the boy admitted.
"Me too." The girl felt herself smiling.
Clapping sounds distracted the two as they turned to see the twins, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, all with grins on their faces.
"Finally," Ron said to them. "I thought you guys were never going to tell each other."
"Thought we were going to have to do something about it, you know maybe a love potion." said Fred.
"Fred!" Hermione scolded him.
(Y/N) laughed a little. "Well I think I'm ready to head back in. Hot chocolate anyone?"
Everyone agreed and began to head back inside the castle. Harry and (Y/N) were at the ending trailing behind everyone, enjoying each others presence. Harry gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"Happy Christmas, (Y/N)."
"Happy Christmas, Harry."
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rockingrobin69 · 7 months
Text
Basic Maths
“Draco said he can’t sleep,” Harry admitted, half-mumbled into his coffee, for some reason blushing over this, mostly concerned, but Ron just hummed and said, “That’s sweet.”
“What?”
“What?”
“What’s sweet?”
Freckled nose scrunched up. “You said he can’t sleep. Because he misses you. That’s a bit sweet, isn’t it?”
“I never said,” gasping, “Ron, it’s been three days. He can’t be missing me so much after three fucking days.”
The look on his face, exasperated and something else. “Mate.”
“What?”
“You what. Why do you think—no, it’s too early in the morning.” Tapping his shoulder, this tired look that had nothing to do with the fact it was barely six. “Harry, you’re my best mate, but you’re rubbish at this.”
That’s exactly what he was so scared of. Being rubbish at this. He didn’t know how to do—any of this, didn’t know how to, say, think the right words. Worried he’s misinterpreting everything because he’s so desperate for the tiniest of shred of… Enough. Another sip of coffee, miserable: enough.
“Harry,” great, now Ron sounded miserable too, “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine,” rougher than intended. “It’s fine. Let’s just get to work, all right?”
Ron stared at him for the longest moment, but then he sighed, and his shoulders rolled with it. “All right. We’ll talk about this tonight?”
“Sure thing.”
They won’t.
*
“And he got me another one, although I specifically said not to,” trying for a pout, ending somewhere like a sigh, rolling his eyes at how ridiculous this man was, and Hermione smiled and said, “What a wanker.”
“Right?” twitching in his seat.
“Absolutely. Getting you the pastry you like even though you specifically told him not to.”
“It’s just, every time we go to his place he—‘Mione, he’s worse than Molly.”
Hermione’s eyebrow arched. “Uh-huh. Worse, you say. Harry, you’ve not stopped smiling all day.”
“What? No I’ve not.” Nonsensically offended. “I’m… just wish I knew what he’s thinking.”
The look in her eyes, something terrible, hot and itchy like pity. “Harry.”
“No, I know, I know. I’m blowing it all out of proportions and it’s not a big deal and it shouldn’t be, right, we’re casual, and we’re friends, and that’s a lot more important. There’s no need to overcomplicate it.”  
“Harry—”
“It’s fine.” Coughed until he’s convinced himself too. “It’s fine. Let’s just… eat, yeah?”
He could see she was dying to say it, but thankfully, mercifully, she just grimaced and shook her head. “Fine. You’ll figure this out, won’t you?”
“Yeah. Probably.”
He won’t.
*
“Then he knocked on the door with the scarf in his hands. Gin, I think he went all the way back just to get it.”
“Mad,” Ginny said and stole another chip from his Styrofoam tub. “No, that man is completely mad, so much is true.”
“Isn’t he just. He was soaking wet—I had to convince him to stay and take a bath while his clothes went in the tumble drier.” Left unsaid: how impossibly soft Draco had looked in Harry’s robe, with his hair curling sweetly and his cheeks all pink. How he curled on Harry’s sofa and watched the telly with an arched eyebrow, obviously not following but still enchantingly caught.
Left unsaid how Harry leaned closer just to smell his own shampoo on Draco, how it squeezed his chest so tight he thought he might die. How lovely, how brilliant, how terrible it was to have him this close and this warm and this wrong.
“Harry,” Ginny’s sigh brought him back to the café, to the bright lights and the ache that still didn’t quite leave his belly, “you’re such a bloody idiot, I could strangle you.”
“Hmm? What? Why!”
“Why. He asks me why. You practically have love-hearts for eyes and here you are asking me why.”
Harry grunted something not-quite in English. “I don’t… it doesn’t matter. How I feel. He’s the one who said about keeping it casual. He’s obviously not—” lost the rest of the sentiment to a sigh, bone-crushing. Ginny was staring at him with an open mouth.
“Doesn’t matter,” she repeated, sounding dazed. “Harry, you berk, just talk to him.”
“We talk all the time.”
“No, I mean, actually talk to him. Why's that so terrifying? You’re meant to be this fairly-brave man, remember?”
Meant to be, was the point exactly. If she asked him to step into a burning house to save him (and not that it was a fantasy that Harry spent so much time dreaming about, in frightening detail)—but this was something else. Harry’s never learned how to… won’t be able to handle this particular loss. After everything, this would be the thing to break him, of that he was sure.
“Just talk to him. You’ll see, everything will be all right.”
It won’t.
*
“Just wondering if, erm, you know when he’s meant to be back, or…” his voice died into a croak. Pansy, still with her arms crossed, glared.
“No idea. Now, if that’s all.” Going for the door, and Harry’s heart—
“Wait!” with his foot forward, with his chest writhing, “wait, it’s not all. I don’t understand why he’s so angry. What did I do? Pans, please.”
Must have been the tone that got to her, the crack in his voice, because Pansy’s frown softened. “You two will be the death of me. I swear, if I have to listen to him whining one more time—”
“What is he whining about? Why… he looked so miserable. And now I can’t eat anything or get any sleep and I need to know, I need to know why he’s so upset and how to make it right. How do I make it right?”  
Pansy’s wide eyes. “What… you’re joking. Why he’s upset? Not even you are that clueless.”
“But what if I am. What if I am, and I’m losing my mind. I miss him so terribly it’s like my belly’s on fire and it’s only been a couple of days and please, I just, don’t understand why he’s angry with me when I’m so bloody—” exhausted, and terrified, and mostly exhausted. Not the lack of sleep: the lack of Draco in his life, the lack of his smile and his snarl and his cologne, and his hair and his eyes and his hands.
“Shit,” Pansy said, something flashing on her face. “You’re bonkers for him too, aren’t you.”
Wasn’t really a question, but Harry still nodded, tragic. Swallowed. Swallowed again. Bonkers for him too. “You’re not trying to say…” but he couldn’t even finish. She was, he thought, trying to say. “Why didn’t he just—tell me? I’ve been—he’s—no, that’s not possible.”
“Not possible,” Pansy said.
“No, no. He would have—I’ve been—for years. He’d have said something. I couldn’t be more obvious if I fucking tried.”
“Have you met Draco?” sneering again. “Our Draco?”
Something like laughter, hot and terrible, itchy up his throat. “Okay, yes, but…” not sure how to, what to, so panicked because he couldn’t face losing him, not Draco, their Draco, his Draco. “How do I make him realise. That I—too. That I, more.”
Sighing dramatically: “I think you know how.”
Already taking a step back, still shaking his head, his whole chest fluttering with giddy panic: “I—I have to—”
“Go, you arsehole,” but she was smiling.
What if Draco refused to speak to him? What if he wouldn’t listen. What if it was too late. What if he didn’t want Harry anymore? Harry tried to breathe.
He couldn’t.
*
“Idiot,” Draco was laughing, dear and too bright in his arms. “I can’t believe you…”
“I can’t believe you,” delirious with joy, burst open with affection, “you git, why didn’t you just tell me.”
“Beg pardon? Why didn’t you just tell me?”
On the sofa, curled around each other, and this humming in Harry’s ears that could only be contentment, that could only be burning, aching relief. “Dunno. Suppose it was… I couldn’t bring myself to risk it. I was too scared.”
Draco’s eyes were so grey and so close. “I thought I was so obvious. I thought—”
“I know.” Couldn’t believe he just gets to kiss his nose like that. Couldn’t believe Draco’s arms around him or the little sound he made when Harry nuzzled his neck. “We were maybe being a little silly.”
“A little,” Draco said, fondness dancing in his eyes. “Come here.”
Harry would, always, always. “Kiss me, you silly man.”
“Impatient, are we. I’ve only wanted this for, what… what are you doing, you berk!” to Harry, lifting him in the air a bit with the jump and settling again, closer, ever closer. Draco’s laughter rang in his ears, soothed something in his writhing belly.
“We’re not casual,” Harry said. “I’m so serious about you, Draco.”
“Not casual,” he nodded. “Is this what you wanted? Are you happy?”
Too much for words: he was.
(Flufftober day 5. Find the soft AO3 collection here).
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lolathestoryteller · 15 days
Text
inquiry at breakfast (April 10th prompt; Date) @jilymicrofics
„So, Harry…“ Lily inquires, breaking the silence that hangs between them as they, including James, sit around their kitchen table, currently enjoying a late breakfast. „How’s Ginny?“
Harry, being in the middle of lifting a spoonful of cereal to his lips, instantly freezes. „Huh?“ he looks up at her with wide eyes.
James watches them, humming amusedly. „You got home pretty late last night,“ he implies. „Must’ve been a good date?“
Harry‘s cheeks could not have gotten redder if he tried. „What? That’s not—“ he shakes his head hurriedly, undoubtedly flustered. „We weren’t on a date. It was just quidditch — Ron and the others were there as well.“
Lily, despite her best efforts, can’t hold in a chuckle. „We know, darling,“ she replies mercifully, not able to watch her son‘s hopeless stammering. „We‘re just teasing you.“
„I don’t know, Lil…look at him,“ James goes on, leaning closer to Harry to study his flushed cheeks. „He‘s completely smitten with her — aren’t you, Snitch?“ he asks, wiggling his brows at his son, who looks thoroughly embarrassed.
„Dad! She’s Ron‘s sister—“
James shrugs. „Wasn’t a no, now, was it?“ he smirks.
Harry groans, dropping his head into his hands. „I really don’t want to talk about it.“ he mumbles into his sleeves.
„Oh, come on now, Harry—“
Lily raises a warning brow at her husband, silently asking him to stop teasing their poor kid. He relents, although the grin doesn’t leave his lips as he leans back in his chair.
„It’s alright, Harry,“ she says kindly, running her hand down his back. „You don’t have to worry about such things yet…it’s alright if you don’t feel ready to figure out what you’re—“
„The only thing I’m trying to figure out right now is how to make this stop.“ Harry interrupts her pleadingly.
James can’t help but chuckle as he regards his son with sympathy, remembering all too well the feeling of having such an intense crush on somebody for the first time.
He looks up at Lily, meeting the beautiful eyes of his first real crush.
Lily, in turn, hides her own laugh behind a cough. „Alright, alright, we’ll stop.“ she replies, her eyes sparkling with clear amusement as they meet James‘s above Harry‘s head —
He was right, it seems.
Their son is hopelessly, and very obviously falling for Ginny Weasley.
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whorediaries-09 · 1 month
Note
SO SORRY TO ADD ANOTHER A OTHER REQUEST :( BUT CAN WE MAYBE HAVE LIKE A SOFT NICE DATE THAT SLOWLY TURNS INTO SMUT WITH RON? PLEASEE? Also hui :3
hi lovey, thank you for sending in the request, hope you like it!
i think he knows; pairing- ronald weasley x reader warning(s)- mentions of war, 18+ content, fluff. a/n- contrary to popular belief, i am in fact quite alive and breathing.
little train.
Tumblr media
' he got that boyish look that i like in man, i'm an architect i'm drawing up the plans. '
going on a date after the war was...intimidating, to put it in within a play of a single word. and surely ron wasn't expecting himself to be in a sticky situation with the pretty healer who had tended to his wounds after the traumatizing events. he ran his thumb over the now healed scar.
it'd tell a tale.
he remembered you. he could recall the dullness of worry in your eyes. the shine of hope in your eyes. even if your hair was matted with blood and rubble, you were the diesel to the fire that so timidly burned. the bruise under your eye was fresh, deep blue blackening, a shard of glass hanging from your chin.
he wish he could paint the blue golden.
with the last tug at the leather strap of the watch around his wrist, he decided he'd get the flowers. it would add a nice touch, a 'gentlemanly effect', he liked to think. even if it did seem to be a bit cliche. perhaps he thought of the smile on your face when you got the flowers (he was hopeful that you liked flowers). or perhaps he was just afraid of the aspect of a hormone rushing pregnant ginny hitting him on the head because of his 'less gentlemanly thoughts'
he remembered harry patting his shoulders, throwing out advices. ron rolled his eyes. he recalled when harry was swooning over cho chang, describing his very 'wet' kiss. he kicked harry in the shin, pulling a laugh out of his friend, grumbling harry wasn't much of a 'playboy' either.
so, he found himself standing in the flower shop, having absolutely no ideas about flowers. he watched the half a dozen barely bloomed pink roses being tied together. god forbid you weren't allergic to them. or didn't laugh at him for being too cliched.
he wished hermione had actually written that book about girls.
*-
it was fruitful, his attempt to choose the flowers. he'd recognized it from the shine in your eyes and the beautiful curve adorned on your lips. he'd found you beautiful when you were on the brink of death, disguised as a savior, so heaven sent. but now, when you held his hand, touching the scar you'd mended, talking away about stuff he couldn't really catch up on, your hair smelling like something so desirable, he found you breathtaking. he was mesmerized by you.
you felt like a forbidden treasure, the diesel to the fire in his heart that raged it's flames ever so timidly.
you'd liked the flowers. ron silently thanked the gods that you weren't allergic. you liked a lot of things, he learnt. cats, photography, literature, music, and a good fuck... was amongst the few things you liked. he was sure you'd said that intentionally just to pull out a reaction. the evil trick was recognized by the pretense innocent mischievousness in your eyes.
he was glad he coughed the drink in his mouth instead of spitting it right onto your face. you'd smiled, throwing him a dirty wink, twirling the straw of lemonade with your tongue. the dim carnival light angled your features, bringing out the best of your bone structure.
'well, to put it correctly, i enjoy a good fuck...' you said, after ron had recovered from his coughing haze. he wiped the edge of his lips, a nd putting on his best front, he responded,
'well then i can promise you an enjoyable time with me sweetheart,'
it was said with an awkward stance, a constant shift of octaves. but it still made you flush as the flame of the fire of his burning heart tickled your skin. you'd be his fuel, his diesel. you'd be his muse, the tale he recite.
*-
by the time it was time to leave you by the doorstep, the sky dizzied itself across the luminated street scattered with gravel. his fingers were melted within the crevices of yours, fit snug like a puzzle. he liked the way you laughed, the way your voice did throbbed so serenely against his eardrums while narrating tales, the way your eyes lit up against the dim lighting. 'liked' would be an understatement.
for the first time in his life, he was thankful for his freckles. he hoped they hid the flush of his pale skin.
'you're...kind,' you stated, shimmying on your tiptoes.
'hmm... why do you say so, sweetheart?' he asked.
'i know you live on the other side of town, and you came by to drop me...' a stupid line pops up in his head, but he doesn't say anything. he almost bites his lip to not let his boyish thought control his action. so, he smiles.
and lingers. holding your hand. the distance between him and you isn't much, the little roof over the entrance of your house providing him the needed protection from rain.
he can feel your breathe upon his already warm skin. it excruciates his patience. it plays with his senses, the sweet fragrance of petrichor infused with a scent, that reeks of you. it's blissful.
still, like the boyish man he is, he does nothing. he lingers, letting a silence wrap the little bubble of tranquility. it's comforting, in a strange way. he can't figure out what to do, when the sound of the rain, the running vehicles and the croaking frogs blur, when he feels your fingers tighten around his.
your lips lingers a little too close to his, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. or rather the side of his mouth. his mind reels when you place forward your request, your thought.
'the rain won't stop. not now anyways.' you whisper, lips brushing his earlobe. he doesn't recognize what takes over him within the click of your doorknob and the placement of your hand on his waist, as you pull him towards you.
but he enjoys it, the sudden rush of hormones. it's quick, it's something he's not felt for a long time. so long, it almost feels foreign. perhaps, it is. it's a warmth he's never felt, no never in his teenage years has he ever felt the need of touch. he's never realized the need, he thinks.
it's maddening, your touch all over his body when he finally crashes his mouth with yours, pushing you against the unlocked door of your house. he stumbles as you grab your neck, breathlessly cradling your cheek within the crevice of his palm. the scar you'd fixed touches the one on your chin.
it's a tale to be kept silent, to be a concealed message. like a string of fate, perhaps.
his teeth nips softly at the bare skin of your neck, your back pressed against the cold wall of your house. he feels the heat radiate off your body, moans leaving your mouth. your name rolls of his tongue as your fingers pull his hair, pulling his face away from your neck.
'is this okay?' he asks, concerned. he thinks he's fucked it up, by jumping on your bones. to his relief, you smile,
'it's...more than okay. can we go to the bedroom please?'
'sure, sweetheart. whatever makes you comfortable.'
*-
you've got your hair tangled up in his ginger locks. the moans spilling from your throat echoes through against the walls of your bedroom. his lips aren't on yours, as much as he'd love to taste your moans and sounds, your noise is honey-dripping gold in his eardrums.
his cock plunges deep within you, till your room loses the smell of your sandalwood candles. it reeks of sex and skin, the physical intimate bond of unheard individuals. it reeks of something magical, a golden desire painting over deep blue bruises.
it's fueling, to feel his touch on your skin. it diesels the fire that ignites within you when he snaps his hips against yours. the sound of his gasps, your moans, and skin slapping fills the room. you roll your eyes, as he thrusts himself angled perfectly so as to hit your sweet spot. you see white, moaning his name,
'fuck please, ron right there,'
his silver chain dangles over your lips. you wrap your lips around it, bringing his face closer. he gasps, his finger slipping between your connected bodies. his calloused thumb rubs over your stimulated clit, making you arch your hips, searching for more friction.
'you're making me feel so good, sweetheart,' he moans as you clench your walls around his girth. the coil building in your stomach drives your to the edge of your sanity.
'yeah?' you whisper back, half heaving, half controlling your urge to scream. it's heavenly, the combination of his perfect thrusts, the rubbing of his finger against your clit. you wrap your legs around his body, pulling him closer, to feel him, to touch him.
his girth plunges in you, and you feel your coil unraveling through you, your thighs shaking as the orgasm bubbles over the brink. it's pure heavenly insanity, a break through from the scorching insatiable desire for him.
you feel him release within you, wrecking your guts. your orgasm paints his abs, as his lump body falls over yours, his weight dead. he hides his face into your neck, smiling. the tranquil silence settles, carving a little bubble of comfort. neither of you hear the rain pattering against the gravel.
perhaps, truly it was just an excuse. excuse for a fate, for a destiny. to rebound broken strings of souls.
'you don't break promises do you?' you ask, laughing.
****************************************************
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oncethrown · 9 months
Text
Steganography Cut
"Okay," Ron sighed. "I'm just going to say it. I'm not convinced about Percy."
"Convinced?" Bill asked. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"He shows up at the 11th hour saying he knows Aberforth— "
"He was in danger," Charlie cut in. "They were arresting dissenters, and he didn't have anywhere to go, what did you want him to do?"
"Saying he knows Aberforth," Ron continues. "Mum let him bring Oliver Wood back to the burrow with him for some reason, and now they've been holed up together since the end of the battle. I didn't even realize they knew each other."
Hermione opens her mouth to speak, but Bill raises a hand to cut her off. "No. We're not going to do this. The war is over. We're not digging out spies and detractors any more. Percy is back now. None of of us know what he's been through, he was there when Fred," Bill stumbles over his brother's name and the temperature around the table drops several degrees. He clears his throat. "He was there when Fred died. People grieve in their own ways and shit like this- Ronald- is not making easier for him to be with us instead of 'holed up with Oliver,'" Bill huffed. "Besides, according to Oliver, Percy has been working against the ministry for years. Oliver says he saved a ton of people and he knows where all the bodies are buried "
"When did you even get a chance to talk to Oliver? When did you get him away from Percy? What are they always doing up there?" Ron jabs his finger toward the house, encompassing the window to the twins old room, where Percy and Oliver have spent the majority of the last few days, only surfacing to sit silently through meals or walk out to the old paddock in the evenings and come back red eyed and loose limbed. 
"I think they are just boyfriends," Fleur says with a shrug. Everyone around the table stills so much they may have turned to stone. She looks around at all of them, then to Bill. "Is this not the word? Ills sont les petit amis, non? Les copains?" She looks around at the assembled Weasley's, Hermione and Harry. "Lovers. What did I say? What does 'boyfriends' mean?"
"Lovers?" Ginny repeats, horrified. 
Charlie and Bill exchange a look. Charlie shakes his head. "Oliver can't be… surely. He's a professional Quidditch player."
"Oui," Fleur insists. "Bill, when you were attacked- Percy came to see you after Dumbly-dorrs funeral. You were not awake, of course. We talked a little, and I left him to sit with you. 'e was so sad, I thought I would bring him something, a tea. When I came back, Oliver was there, and they were in a…" She looks up at the sunset kissed sky, around the table, then back to Bill "ils se tenaient l'un l'autre. Romantique."
"I understood romantic," Harry said. "What did she say?"
"She said they were holding each other." 
"And you're just bringing this up now?" Ginny demands.
Fleur straightened. "I 'ave barely spoken to Percy! I do not know Oliver! I am supposed to know this is a surprise?"
The back door creaks open and they all freeze again as Percy and Oliver step out into the garden. Hermione lets out a peel of fake laughter, realizes its the first laugh there has been in the house since the battle and turns it into a cough. Percy and Oliver exchange a look and walk self consciously toward the table. Percy executes an awkward wave. Oliver seems to be hiding something behind his back.
"Hey,' Percy says. "Everyone. What's up out here?"
"Just a nice night," Bill says. "Hard to be in the house, and…"
"You're welcome to join us," Charlie says. "If you weren't… doing something else."
Oliver looks at Percy and shrugs. "Uh, no. We were just going to get some fresh air and uh," he pulls a bottle of wine from behind his back. "Alcohol. But… we can.." He looks at Percy again and sets the bottle on the table "Break out the old refillable charm and split it, uh. Nine ways."
"Ginny's underage," Charlie says.
"No I'm not," Ginny argues. 
"Yeah. Yes," Bill says, standing and pulling his wand out. "Stay. Come talk with us." He waves his wand and everyone is so busy watching him conjure a chair that they miss the back door opening again. 
"What's everyone up to out here?"
In a night of stops and starts, they have still not frozen like this. Slowly, they all turn to George. 
He swallows deeply, looks back at all of them, and lets a slow, hesitant smile roll over his face. "You all look like you've seen a ghost." 
No one laughs. No one moves. 
George nods. He leans over, grabs the wine bottle off the table. "Percy, can we talk?"
"Uh… of course. Yes." Percy says. George nods again and starts to walk away. Percy rocks strangely on the spot, as though cutting off a movement, touches Oliver's back, and scurries after George. 
Oliver watches them go, then settles himself down into one of the vacant chairs. 
They stare at each other in silence for a moment. 
"I will go get some more alcohol," Charlie volunteers. 
"Yes, god, yes, please do that,"Bill agrees. 
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holdupjack · 9 months
Text
Sick
——————
Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader
WARNING: None
——————
Hermione's P.O.V:
7th Year
I wasn't surprised when my girlfriend didn't show up for breakfast, it happens many times due to her very bad sleeping habits.
So, I didn't think much of it as I studied for the test in an upcoming class and ate my toast.
After breakfast, my Friday morning went on normally as I zipped from class to class.
When lunch rolled around, I did find it immediately strange that Y/n was nowhere in sight when I entered the Great Hall.
"Hermione! There you are!" I hear, and I see Y/n's dorm mate walk up to me.
"I've been looking for you all morning! Y/n wanted me to tell you that she's not going to classes today" they say and I furrow my brows in confusion.
"The poor thing has caught that nasty chest flu that's been going around! She moved herself into the spare dorm so no one else would get sick" they say as their eyes seem to catch someone behind me.
"Tell Y/n I hope she feels better, bye!" They say as they disappear into the sea of students coming and going.
I bite my lip and walk over to the space between Harry and Ginny.
"You look anxious," Ginny says as I take a bowl and fill it with the daily soup that is made as a lunch option.
"I'm not anxious, it's just Y/n is sick with that dreaded chest flu," I say and Ron snickers like a little kid.
"You two have been dating for two years, yet you still get nervous about a simple cold" he laughs out and I roll my eyes as I grasp a small plate for myself.
"Pardon me, for caring about my partner," I say and he just continues to chuckle.
"That chest flu is rough though, Neville has it," Harry says and I hum sadly.
I know it's just a cold, but I can't help but feel bad for my Y/n.
"It should only last for a couple of days," Ginny says and I sigh softly.
"That's good, I'll see you guys next week then," I say and Ron furrows his eyebrows.
"What? Aren't you coming to our Quidditch match Sunday?" He asks and I roll my eyes again as I use a quick flick of my wand to have the dishes float and follow me.
"If Y/n feels better, then maybe," I say and he groans.
"She's seventeen Hermione, she's not a little kid that needs to be taken care of" he grumbles and I glare at him.
Ron quickly shuts down and pushes his food around with his fork.
I hum and bid the other two farewell as I walk out of the Great Hall, the food following me close behind.
It didn't take me long to get to the empty dormitory that Y/n was using. I could sadly hear her when I walked into the common room.
As I got closer to the room, a loud coughing fit erupts from behind the door, I wait patiently until she was done.
I can't help but grimace from how hard and airy her cough is.
When she was finally done, all I hear is a soft:
"ow"
I knock on the door and hear Y/n clear her throat.
"Come in"
I open the door and peek inside to find my Y/n laying on one of the beds and I frown.
"Hello my love," I say as the food floats past me and onto the side table next to her.
"You didn't have to bring me food," she says as her voice cracks and disappears throughout the sentence.
"Shush," I say as I close the door behind me and take a seat on the desk chair next to the bed.
"I don't want you to get sick" she mumbles, her eyes small and glossy as I lean down and peck her forehead.
Fever.
"I have a much better immune system than you, my lovely" I whisper back as I sit back up.
"No, you don't! I hate when you get sick, you get pinchy and bitey" she mumbles and I laugh.
"Bitey?" I ask as I hold the soup out for her to take, she sits up with a small groan.
"Yes, bitey! You kept chomping on my open skin when I was taking care of you during your strep throat episode! It was like fighting off a feral cat" she grumbles and I can't help but laugh.
"I'm sorry my lovely" I mumble as she takes the food from my hands.
"You know I love you, even with your sick-biting antics" she mumbles back and I chuckle.
"You can bite me back this weekend," I say without thinking, and Y/n smirks as she takes a spoonful of the soup.
"Don't threaten me with a good time" she sniffles out and I roll my eyes playfully.
"How are you feeling?" I ask as I place my bag, filled with my work and books, onto her desk.
"Like I got punched in the lungs and smacked with a steel pan on my head" Y/n coughs out as she covers her mouth and looks away from me.
I lean over and run a hand through her hair as I scoot the chair closer to the bed.
"I'm sorry you feel so crummy my dove" I mumble as she puts down her soup on the desk.
"You should eat," I say and she just hums, laying back down and letting my hand wander through her hair.
"Later" she whispers as her eyes shut immediately.
I smile as I lean down and kiss the top of her dozing head, letting it linger for a moment before sitting back up.
Time seemed to go by fast, as a few minutes turn into an hour, of me running my fingers against her scalp.
But, a part of me needed to do something. I can't just sit and stare at my girlfriend all day.
Even if it is my favorite activity.
After another moment of staring at her chest, to make sure she's still breathing, I stand up and begin to clean up around the bed.
Picking up tissues and a bottle of water she had probably dropped, I throw it all into the bin.
Taking a seat back on the desk chair, I take out some of my books and tried to work on something to pass the time.
Yet my eyes kept shifting over to Y/n's sleeping form as I eat a grape from the plate of food I grabbed for myself.
I flip through the pages I marked and scan the material.
Another hour must have gone by with my failed attempt at studying and my eyes continuously flicker back to Y/n.
Eventually, I did get sucked into the chapter.
Until I feel fingertips land on my thigh, which caused me to smile.
"Watch those hands Ms.Y/l/n" I chuckle out and she groans unhappily.
I laugh and slip my hand into hers, she immediately pulls it towards her face and rests her cheek on the back of my hand.
Trapping me in an uncomfortable sideways leaning position.
"My love?" I laugh and she just groans again as her other hand comes out from the blanket.
She grabs the bottom of the chair and pulls it right up against the bed, which at least saved me from begin hunched over any longer.
As I look over at my, now far away, studying material; I feel a sudden pain that causes me to hiss.
"Ow! Y/n! Did you just bite my hand?!" I ask in surprise and she laughs, into a hard cough obviously, and she turns away from me quickly.
I pull my hand away and rub the small bite mark on the side of my hand.
"You said I could!" She wheezes out between coughs and I roll my eyes.
"Not like a hungry carnivore," I say and she turns back to me with a grin.
"All have you know, you taste like hand sanitizer and that coco butter you put on your skin...which no carnivore is trying to eat" she mumbles and I laugh softly.
She lays back down and holds out her hand for me again, which I ignore.
"I'm not getting bit again, it hurt"
"How do you think I feel?"
"In my defense, I don't remember biting you," I say and Y/n rolls her eyes.
"Hermione, stop fighting the sick." She says and I hum softly, stupidity taking her hand.
"If you bite me again, I'm punching the sick," I say and she just laughs.
"Yada, Yada, Yada" she mumbles as my hand goes back to being trapped between her head and hand.
Y/n was quick to fall asleep again as I was figuring out how to use my one hand to move everything to the edge of the desk.
I sigh and mindlessly let my fingers rub the side of her head, as I try to study again.
Luckily, by the time dinner rolled around, I had somehow gotten free and was trying to wake her.
"Y/n? Dove? Are you hungry?" I ask as I stand up and grab my plate and the old cold soup from lunch.
She gives me a quiet 'no' and I frown.
"What if I got some of the elf's handmade crackers? And some juice? Then will you eat?" I ask and she just hums.
"I'll take that as a maybe" I whisper as I walk over to the door and look back at my girlfriend.
My heart squeezes lightly as I look at her poor body shaking under the mountain of blankets.
"I'll be back my lovely," I say, and I just get a small snore in return.
I quickly make my way out of the dorm.
——————
Y/n's P.O.V:
When I awoke, it was pitch black in the room.
"I've gone blind" I whisper in a panic, until I see a soft glow of the night sky shine as the curtains flap open for a moment.
"Never mind, I've gone even more stupid" I whisper as I sit up with a groan.
I rest my back on the headboard and sigh softly, my adjusting eyes scanning the room.
It's freezing in here.
Freezing like a winter snowstorm.
Snow turns into water.
Water goes back into the clouds.
Then it rains.
...
Now I have to pee.
"Damn my thought process"
With another groan, I swing my legs onto the side, and let my feet hit the cold floors.
"Here we go" I whisper as I push myself up into a standing position.
Only to fall back onto to bed just as quickly.
"I've aged sixty years" I sigh as I try again.
This time I find success!
My hand lands on the bedpost as I slowly make my way toward this dormitory bathroom.
Thank Merlin I thought about toiletries before moving myself in here.
As I make my way to the center of the room, my head gets lightheaded and my legs feel weak.
"Ope, going down" I whisper as I slowly lay my body on the ground.
I sigh as the cold floor feels nice against my burning skin.
Still cold though.
"Guess I'll lay here" I mumble as my eyes shut.
——————
When my consciousness awakes to the sound of a door opening.
"Bloody hell, Y/n? Love! Are you alright?!" I hear fast footsteps approach me and a hand checks my pulse.
"Not dead, dizzy" I mumble and a sigh of relief hits the back of my head as they lean down and kiss the top of my head multiple times.
"You're Hermione, right?" I question, the ringing in my ears causing me to be unsure.
"No, McGonagall"
Definitely Hermione.
I laugh softly as she presses one last kiss to my head as she rubs my back.
"Are you ready to get up?" She asks and I shake my head.
"Then, may I join you?" She asks, and I nod.
My throat hurts too much to talk.
It's like I deep-throated a pineapple.
Now that would be an impressive party trick.
I hear Hermione stand up and walk around the room for a minute or two.
A blanket is draped over me, soon she sneaks under the blanket and rests her head between my shoulder blades.
It's quiet as Hermione's fingertips trace the spot in front of her face. I almost fall asleep, until her voice rings in my ears.
"Get better, quicker" she mumbles and I chuckle.
"Getting tired of me already?" I whisper back.
"I like taking care of you my dear, I just don't like that you're not okay," she says as I hum.
"I love you" she whispers so quietly, that it almost seems like she was afraid that her words will make me worse.
"I love you too" I whisper back as her arm wraps over my back, and squeezes me.
"You know I'm not going to sleep, right?" She asks and I hum again.
"You know that I'm not going to stop breathing, randomly in my sleep?" I ask, and she just sighs.
"In my brain, I know that, but my heart and gut say otherwise" Hermione whispers as her lips reach up and kiss my neck, before going back to their original position.
"Thank you for caring," I say as my hand reaches down and rubs her back slowly.
"I'll always take care of you, my love," she says and I chuckle as I trace shapes softly on her back.
"Even if you are Minister of Magic?" I ask and a soft laugh comes from her lips.
"Do you think I'm just going to stop loving you if I ever get that position?" She asks and I laugh as well.
"Well I don't know, maybe you'll get it on with your secretary," I say and she snorts as her body vibrates against mine.
She laughs out a little and I could feel her smile form against me as she nuzzles her face against my back.
"Thank you for the laugh," she says and I hum.
"Will you promise to sleep?" I ask as my head pounds from the laughter.
"I'll try" she mumbles.
——————
No one's P.O.V:
She didn't.
Instead, Hermione counted how many breaths Y/n took and how many seconds were in between each one.
5,873 breaths (give or take some missed)
6-7 seconds in between.
Why did Hermione do this?
Who knows, all she knew is that it made her feel better.
Even though her girlfriend was just sick with a simple cold, it still calmed her to know Y/n was still breathing.
I guess it's just a common thing to do though, right?
When you love someone, you can't help but worry when they're sick.
People even go as far as watching, or hearing, to make sure the person they love is still breathing.
Hermione has done this multiple times also.
Her parents.
Harry and Ron.
Hell, even Crookshanks at one point.
But, she's NEVER stayed up and counted breaths.
Then again...
This is her girlfriend.
Her other half.
Her soulmate.
...
Even years later, still at each other's side, after fighting every kind of cold imaginable.
Hermione still counted breaths.
And Y/n still told her to go to bed and stop putting her death into the universe.
Hermione would just laugh and go about her night, taking care of her lover the best she could.
Y/n eventually caught on to her counting habits, and would just stay up with her.
As you can imagine, this didn't help with the cold.
And sleeping during the day, when Hermione was at work, freaked her out more than Y/n imagined it would.
So, Y/n didn't stay up again.
Instead, she let her wife take care of her the way she always had.
With nothing but love and care.
And a little bit of anxiety.
Even after all those years, Hermione loved her more than anything.
And Y/n couldn't help but smile when a cough or sniffle came from her body.
It meant that her wife would show her so much care, even though she was never awake to witness it.
148 notes · View notes
startanewdream · 10 months
Text
"Harry... and Ginny."
A happy squeal. "Yes."
"Ginny and Harry."
"Yes."
"My best friend and—"
"Your best sister." The giggle turns into a snort, but Hermione is past caring. She was right, despite Harry's throw away comments and Ginny's insistence that they were just friends—Hermione had seen that from afar.
And, yes, she is also happy for them.
Ron blinks. "Did you know?"
"That Harry was going to come here, Ginny would jump into his arms, and they would snog in front of everyone? Well, no. But that they had feelings for each other... it was obvious."
"It bloody wasn't—a guy has no warning—why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you turn a Welsh Dragon whenever you think someone might fancy your sister."
Ron's ears turn pink. "Well, I'm her big brother, someone needs to—but anyway, it's Harry. He wouldn't, you know—"
"Mistreat Ginny?" She smirks. "I'm pretty sure Harry is treating her very well right now."
"No, stop it, I don't want—seeing once was more than enough—"
"I don't think you only see it once."
"Ugh—why are you being mean?"
She sobers up. "I'm not." She pulls him close to the table with drinks, urging Ron to accept a butterbeer. "I just think you should prepare yourself. And I know Harry, he was nervous around you as it was."
"Me? Why?"
"Ron... you are 'her big brother'. Welsh Dragon? Almost jinxed Dean?"
"It was Dean. He wasn't good enough."
"Oh, keep talking like that and it's Ginny who you should worry about, not Harry."
"Even Ginny agrees that Dean is a git now."
"The only thing Ginny agrees with is that you have no business in her romantic life—right? You are not giving Harry the older brother talk, are you?"
"I will?" His eyes widen. "Oh, Merlin's butt, I should, shouldn't I? It's Harry—"
"Your best friend, exactly! Don't give him a hard time—Harry's had a crush on Ginny for ages now—"
"I won't give him a hard time." Ron frowns. "I may have been blind to Harry crushing on my sister, but I saw how they looked."
"And how it was?"
"Happy," says Ron simply. "Ginny is that bright spot of sunshine when she wants, okay, nothing unusual, but Harry—he was beaming. I never saw him like that, not on his first Quidditch match, nor when Gryffindor won the cup. It was almost weird."
Hermione sighs. "Yeah... After everything—I am so thrilled for them."
"Me too," he agrees, then Ron blinks. "Me too." He coughs. "That's not to say I am not going to have a little talk with Harry—"
"Ron..."
"But away from Ginny's ears. Just in case."
She grins. "Smart."
(a prequel to this)
347 notes · View notes
avalynlestrange · 7 months
Text
Already Over
Fred Weasley x Reader
Reader: she/her pronouns
youtube
Warnings: implied smut, exam season, not proof read again haha, unrequited love or mutual pining?, profanity
Category: One-Shot, Songfic, Friends with Benefits, AU without Voldy.
Summary: In which you can’t close the door on Fred when you still need the closure.
Sneak Peak: None :P
Author’s Note: I needed this done and over with T_T As much as I love this song it’s becoming sickening to listen to. 
Word Count: 3301
To The Library (fic masterlist) To The Kitchen (WIPs) To emails i can't send fwd: Anthology To more Fred Weasley
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You’ve been talking for hours about how you shouldn’t talk for hours on end. Sitting on the floor of an empty corner of the library with candy and homework surrounding you. The recent topic of your chatter however is not the current herbology books you are required to read but how you needed to stop this situationship you have going on.
“It’s just so easy with you.” Fred laughs. He runs his fingers through his hair and you wish it could be your hands but you restrain yourself. You are trying to end things after all.
Fred chucks a jellybean at you. You catch it with your mouth. Immediately you spit it out and reach for the fizzy fig juice. 
“That’s disgusting. Tasted like sweaty socks,” You grimace after chugging down half the bottle.
“What do you mean you love sweaty socks!” He wiggles his feet near your face. You push his leg away causing his body to swivel. 
“Get your feet away from me!”
Fred smoothly transitions from his almost fall back to a sit up position. His legs in front of his stocky frame. Merlin how you adore his body.
“Shut up! You love all this,” and he wiggles himself.
You’re not very good at lying. Especially to Fred, so you only roll your eyes as a response. 
“For reals though,” you brace yourself, “We really should stop this.”
“But we’re doing so well!” Fred pouts; he gestures to the work laying around you. Both of you completed your charms essay and you celebrated with many a kiss.
“You know that’s not what I mean!” You kneel and start clearing your side of the space. This had become a frequent meeting place for the two of you. It used to be three of you but George disappears with Angelina for a few months now.
Fred grabs your wrist. You gently stumble on top of him as he guides you to straddle him. He locks his hands in yours and pulls you near his face. You would have blushed a couple months ago but you are used to this close proximity.
“But we are doing so well,” he whispers in your ear.
And now you are kissing after a conversation about how you’d probably be better off as friends. Grasping at his ginger locks, you push him further to deepen the kiss.
His hands leaves a hot trail as they roam your body, clasping and squeezing. When your shirt rides up to uncover your back, Fred without hesitation takes the opportunity to slide and touch the your skin. It’s all you could think about. The initial burn you feel upon the contact ignites your whole body.
You moan on his lips. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale and you’re submerged again in the shared passion between you. Drowning all thoughts of ceasing the very thing you are doing.
Suddenly, you hear George cough and say it’s nearly curfew causing you break apart. You share a smile and fix each others hair. 
“Same time here next weekend?” Fred winks.
As you bring yourself to stand, you say, "We won't do this again.”
⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
You say, “I’m done.”
“You’ve barely eaten anything off your plate!” Harry exclaims, trying to pick off your plate. You block his fork with yours.
“That’s not what I meant. Hands of my pudding!” You shove a piece in your mouth to prove your point.
“What you’re leaving school or something?” Ron asks through a mouth full of roast chicken.
“I don’t think that’s what she means either Ron.” Ginny replies.
“Oh is this about my brother again? Honestly you two need to sort yourselves out;” Ron wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Yeah you two should just admit you like each other. You think you’re being sneaky but we all know it.” Harry states.
It’s not like you don’t know you like each other but Fred doesn’t seem to want a serious relationship. Before you he would date different girls every weekend. You settle for friends… with benefits. You admit that you did try to keep it a secret at first, in order to not make it weird for others around you. But you did a poor job after the second week when Fred snogged you in the Quidditch tent post game thinking everyone had gone back to the castle. Everyone found out when Ron screamed so loudly. Since then you’ve tried to swat questions about the two of you.
“Oh bog off both of you!” Ginny shoos them off as if to physically remove them from the conversation. “Never mind them. They’re a few sandwiches short of a picnic when it comes to relationships.”
“Oi!” But Ron returns to his food when Hermione glares.
“Do you really want to be done? Don’t you want to tell him how you feel?” Hermione asks.
“I do. I don’t… but I’m still confused. I just don’t think I can take anymore of being ‘just friends’,” You air quote.
“How am I supposed to close the door when I still need the closure? I just need to figure out how to say it to him,” You push away your plate so that you can slump yourself on the desk.
Hermione grabs hold of your shoulders to sit you up and says, “Come on. It’s nearly time for class.”
⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
Fred keeps tabs on you on the corner of his eye. You’re stood outside your class and a Ravenclaw leans on the wall talking to you. He can’t pinpoint the name of this classmate of yours but Fred wishes he could throw a jinx their way when they brush a way a strand of hair on your face. A means to flirt with you. Fred curses under his breath.
A sudden surge of emotion runs through his veins and he unexpectedly makes his way over to you without thinking it through. The only thought in his mind is that Ravenclaw and your lips locking and he wants to squish that idea out of yours and his head.
Selfishly he doesn’t want to give you time to be on someone else's lips. He tugs you away despite your protest about the next lesson starting soon. 
Next you’re behind a curtain with a secret passage. You halt a few steps in. What reason did he have to bring you here and skip third period?
“What’s wrong? Did something hap-“ Your questions were cut off when his lips crash onto yours. It reminds Fred of the first time you were in this secret passage alone.
It was during the 2 weekends before the O.W.L.’s exams. You were very stressed out studying in the library. You had gone back to your dorm to pick up a few snacks for the group. George went along with you but all three of you knew it was because he was looking for Angelina.
Staring at the pages of the charms textbook, Fred’s mind and heart started to race. All the exams were within the whole of next week and results were the Friday in the week after. So you all only had 9 days before your first exam. 
Nothing seemed to stick that afternoon and you were taking a long time to return. Fred skimmed through practice questions. Who even was Felix Sumerbee? To the present day, he still doesn’t know. And he remembers he certainly knew the charm for unlocking doors and chains but what was the incantation for the locking spell?
He closed the textbook as you decided it’s best for you to take a break. Fred scribbled a note and left it on your desk that he was going to the transfiguration courtyard for some fresh air. 
At 6pm in June the sun was still shining but weather in Scotland can be unpredictable so by the time you reached the courtyard, the sky drizzled small drops. He sat on a bench not minding the wetness of the rain. It distracted him from the fact he needed to go back to studying soon. 
“Catch!” He heard a person say from a close direction and dodged just in time when he realised something was dangerously close to hitting his face.
“I’m so sorry. Thought you’d be quick to get that,” You said as you sat next to him; picked up the sweet on the floor and offered it to Fred.
He quickly unwraps the candy and popped it in his mouth.
“Thanks.”
You both sat there quietly, contemplating about the future ahead. He didn’t know where it was heading but it’ll all be okay since he had you and George. Fred remembers you not noticing his stare until the rain starts to pour down.
“Let’s go!” You grabbed his hand, dragging him inside. However, when you reached indoors, Fred doesn’t stop running until you reach one of the secret passageways.
“Lumos!” You recited, then placed your wand on one of the crooks of the wall.
He leaned on his knees panting and looks up at you. Soaked to the bone, you glistened in his eyes. He’s always thought you were beautiful and had a crush on you but never acted on it. Years went by and it was getting difficult to conclude whether it was a good idea if he did. He didn’t want to lose you if you didn’t feel the same or if you did and it all goes wrong.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You asked Fred. 
Fred didn’t know himself what it was. But he remembers how you laughed your awkward laugh when he didn’t reply. Then he remembers how you moved your hair to the back of your ears; how your face contorted with worry; how you gently touched his arm in concern…
He moved without thinking of consequences. His lips were on yours. 
Soft. 
Light. 
Only at first.
Then
Pressure.
Heavy.
And when he pulls back, you were against the wall. Both panting.
“I’m sorry I don’t know what came over me.” He lied. He’d been waiting for that moment for years but never got the courage. So much for holding up to the Gryffindor house standards.
You startled him when you pulled his robe toward yourself and kiss him with a passion.
A whisper and the light from your wand dimmed…
The day after that event, Fred didn’t see you. Not even during movement between periods. He asked other people in your circle, but they didn’t know where you were either. Your dorm mates said you were not in bed when they woke up.
Once it was dinner time, he found you sat at the furthest table from your usual and next to your potion partner who happened to be Adrian Pucey. 
“Lost Weasley?” Malfoy scowled.
“Shut up Malfoy!” Pucey glared, which Fred found incredibly strange.
“Hey.” Fred greeted you, “Where have you been?”
“I wasn’t feeling well so Adrian took me to Madam Pomfrey,” You said without looking at Fred.
“Are you feeling better? Can we talk?”
Adrian placed his arms around your shoulders as you reply, “I’m not feeling that great so maybe tomorrow.”
But tomorrow never came. You avoided him and the rumour that you were dating Adrian travelled to him through Alicia. His heart sank when he heard it.
During those weeks, you barely interacted with Fred. No matter how much he tried to. Sure, you spoke to him during class about the lesson but you weren’t you. When you spoke, he would feel a chill through his body at how cold most of your responses were. Body language was rigid and if he didn’t know better you were trying to keep to your side of the table when you were sat next to each other.
It wasn’t until George intervened and locked you in a closet that you truly interacted. You were sat on the floor twiddling your fingers whilst Fred stood as far away as he could in the little space that you were sharing. The only noise you could here is the distant chatter from students outside and the occasional cough from Fred.
He wanted to say something but didn’t really know what. He didn’t know what was going on between you but he sure as hell didn’t want to confess whatever he was feeling after how you reacted. It didn’t help that you were not even looking his way.
“I’m sorry for being a really shitty friend.” You finally spoke. Eyes still locked to the floor, you continued, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea if we got together.”
“What if we weren’t together?” He replied.
Your head shot up in confusion; “What do you mean?”
Fred didn’t exactly know what he meant either but he knew that he didn’t want to be with anyone else. He hadn’t gone on a date since your kiss, which George pointed out as strange since Fred always had a girl on his arm every Hogsmeade visit. The dates never went anywhere other than within that weekend.
“I mean… we could… just… kiss,” He studied your face for signs of aversion, “but just as friends. Y’know to blow off some steam?”
Your brow shot up.
‘Was that a good idea? Is this going to push you away further?’ Fred thought to himself.
 And when you said yes, it shocked him when you pounce up to kiss him in spite of the fact that he was the one to suggest it.
As a result of this memory, Fred always seeks you when he witnesses another person hitting on you. He'll take three short hours over three long weeks pretending like you don't exist which he fears would happen if you start dating someone else. Not that you two were dating…
“Same time here next weekend?” He asks
You say, "We won't do this again."
⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
That night you couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning with thoughts of Fred. You’re not sure how long you can continue like this. It may have started out as a crush on a friend but there are deeper feelings involved on your side now you’ve spent so many days with just the two of you. It won’t end well for you because surely Fred doesn’t feel the same way.
You know he finds you attractive as he compliments you during your sessions and that he likes you in some sort of way, but he obviously doesn’t want to be an official couple. If he did then why has he not asked you out on a proper date? It’s always empty rooms and secret nooks.
A confession to him would just be awkward and terrifying. It’ll risk your friendship even more. You resolve to cut things off tomorrow.
⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
There is something off with you, Fred notices. It was evident when your body stiffens at the touch of his arms around you. Five minutes until fifth period starts, he is walking you to your class since it’s his free period.
“You okay?” He squeezes your shoulder. Maybe you weren’t well.
“Yeah I’m fine.” You bite your bottom lip.
“You clearly aren’t. Talk to me.”
“Not right now Fred.”
He sees you grip your books tight.
“Here let me carry your books.”
“No it’s fine Fred.”
 “C’mon something is wrong. You can tell me anything.”
“We’ll talk later.”
“Just tell me. I’ll help you sort it out.”
“I said later.”
“I hate seeing you sad.” He insists, “Just let me help. I’m your friend.”
At those words you snap.
“That’s just it! We’re friends but we’re not friends. I just…” After a deep breath *you say, “I’m done. I don’t want to do whatever this is between us. Let’s go back to being actual friends.”
“What?” He laughs, not taking it seriously. You had been saying that for the past few weekends and you always came back to him. Fred quickens his pace and stops when he is facing you.
“Exams have been over for months now and there aren’t any this year. So we don’t need to ‘blow off steam’,” You quote the words he said at the start of your situationship.
“Are we going to continue during the N.E.W.T.s then?” He jokes.
You, however, do not find it funny and cross your arms.
“Are we just a joke to you? Fred I can’t do this anymore and no we aren’t going to continue next year.” You sigh and shake your head.
He didn’t mean to make a joke but he couldn’t help it. This can’t be happening. This isn’t how your story was supposed to end.
You walk off to your next class but he grabs your wrist and calls out your name.
“You don’t mean that. We’re having fun, aren’t we?”
He hears you scoff at his question. Without turning to him you reply,
“Well it isn’t fun anymore. Now excuse me I need to get to class.”
Yeah, you say that you’re done but Fred is still confused. Where did this come from all of a sudden? He stays where you left him. His mouth slightly agape. Can the ground swallow him up now? Make him fall where he stands, only like you can.
⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
You scribble away the content the Professor writes on the chalkboard. Trying so hard to concentrate on the lesson. He drowns on about the different properties of boom berries. However, the scene of your so called break-up replays and replays in your head; you change your mind, but it's still on Fred.
That wasn’t how it was meant to go. The conversation should have gone a little more civil, instead he had the audacity to make jokes. You frown. You should have expected the school’s joker to do as his reputation says. You’d known him for so long too. Why was it such a surprise to you when takes such a serious conversation lightly? Will you patch back up together and stay friends?
You didn’t want to lose him that way. Why did you agree with it in the first place? Then you remembered how your heart fluttered at your first kiss. You had thought about how you settled for being close friends for years then with benefits for months. It was the right decision. Your heart would break even more the longer you carry on.
When you broke the news to Hermione whilst you walked to watch the quidditch practice, she agreed it was the right decision. You debated on whether it was a good idea to attend the Gryffindor practice session but it was your way of getting things back to before. Back to normal. You even brought his and George’s favourite snacks.
You wave at him from the bleachers and your heart swells with glee when he returns the gesture.
“See nothing to worry about.” Hermione reassures you.
Hermione confided in her liking Ron at the start of last year in which you returned her trust by telling her about Fred. She insisted that he felt the same about you but you brushed it off saying it was just a brief infatuation that should go away given that you were close friends.
“Watch out!”
A bludger heading your way is immediately hit by Fred. The eye contact between you sends your cheeks blushing. Fuck he looked gorgeous in his sports gear. That’s when you know that after the aftermath, you know you will be coming back. 
Next you’re in his bedroom and it won't be the last time.
Head and heart are floating at the touch of his skin on yours. Fred caresses your body, clouding the judgement of the voice in your head. His kisses are rough as if to say I missed you when it’s only been a day they were apart from yours. You claw his back and he removes his jumper.
How are you supposed to leave him now that you're already over?
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emeritusemeritus · 8 months
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Can we ever just be friends? [Fred Weasley x Reader]
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Title: Can we ever just be friends?
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader, Platonic!George x Reader.
Timeline: Non-Specified, though I envisioned GOF era Fred (the long hair has a chokehold on me)
Summary: Can boys and girls ever be friends without wanting to shag? Ginny wants to know.
Warnings: Mentions of shagging? Slightly possessive Fred? Just a silly little drabble.
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“Dean tried to kiss me!” Ginny says with a roll of her eyes as she plonks herself down next to you on the couch in the common room. It was a boring Saturday afternoon at school with no Hogsmeade trip planned and so you were wasting time in the common room with your group of friends.
Hermione was sat on one of the armchairs reading, Harry and Ron were in a fierce battle of wizard’s chess sat around the wooden coffee table, their board and pieces littered all around. Your best friends George and Fred were sat on the floor near your feet, fiddling with some new experiment they were working on whilst you read your muggle book in relative piece.
You turned to Ginny with a confused look, sensing her displeasure at the fact Dean had tried to kiss her.
“I thought you liked Dean?” You asked, placing down your book.
“I like him as a friend,” she huffed, “but I thought we were friends, not anything more.” You hummed in reply, understanding what she was saying.
“What’s the issue?” Ron asks, confused. She huffs again and rolls her eyes at her brother’s cluelessness.
“I thought we were just friends, he was nice to me, all this time we’ve spent and he was just a slimeball the entire time! Boys are so frustrating!”
“Woah woah!” George says, trying to defend himself from being lumped together just by his sex, “we’re not all slimeballs.”
You fix him with a look of suspicion, knowing for a fact he was not above slimeball level and he merely sarcastically smiles back at you.
“Oh really?” Ginny says, not believing him one bit. “We’ve been best friends with y/n for years, haven’t made a move on her yet,” George says and you roll your eyes, holding up your middle finger at him.
“So you really think boys and girls can be best friends without wanting to shag each other?” She asks, still not convinced.
“Yes,” George says, nodding.
“No,” Fred says absently, realising a moment later that he’d said that out loud as he looked at you with slightly wide eyes at his outburst. You’re frozen as you look back at him, your own features conveying your surprise.
George coughs, trying to ease the sudden tension but it only seems to increase the awkwardness as you and Fred stare at each other.
“I’m gonna say no too,” you admit, smirking at Fred who bursts out into a smile, a light blush tickling his cheeks. He recovers quickly and shoots you a wink before turning back to his project, each of you following his lead as you try to carry on like normal once again, ignoring the elephant in the room.
“Oh thank god,” George says sarcastically, turning to you, “now we can shag without me feeling like a slimeball.”
He’s immediately hit in the back of the head by his slightly older twin brother as you laugh.
“Get your own best friend to want to shag, she’s mine,” Fred mumbles, “I hear Lee’s free if you need someone.”
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takearisk-xo · 9 months
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Day 4: Red using my taylor hangover to try and catch back up with #SeveralSunlitDaylights & @corneliaavenue-ao3
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this is an extension (prequel?) to my hand's at risk (i fold) aka slytherin!harry
The platform bustled with nonstop conversation and chaos. Owls hooted, cats mewled, and frogs attempted escape from their owners. Friends and housemates greeted each other with cries of joy and claps on the back. Second years cackled as they darted between clusters of mums and dads and grans. It was the typical sort of mess Harry had come to expect from the first of September.
Only this time it was different. Because this time would be his last send off on the Hogwarts Express. He tried not to feel too nostalgic about it, but he couldn’t help taking it all in one last time. He was going to miss the clamor and excitement of a new school year. 
He’d miss school too, but he resolved not to think about that yet. He still had the whole year ahead of him, after all. 
His gaze scanned the colorful crowd, a warmth building up in his chest… until he realized more than one set of eyes stared back at him, and his parents, with awestruck expressions. Which just left him fidgety. 
He definitely wouldn’t miss the staring. 
“Write often,” Mum instructed, reaching out to adjust the collar of Harry’s jacket. “Just because you’re of age, doesn’t mean you don’t have to write anymore.”
“Yeah, alright.” Harry agreed half-heartedly. 
“Oh, that’s encouraging,” Dad deadpanned. “At least promise your poor mum she’ll get one letter a week?”
Mum rolled her eyes. “As if you don’t wait around for Hedwig at the kitchen window every–“
“Sure you didn’t forget anything?” Dad interjected loudly, changing the subject before she could reveal more. “Books? Quills? All those new pants your mum got you for your birthday?”
A snort, barely covered with a cough, sounded from just behind him, and Harry darted his gaze sideways to see Ginny Weasley ducking around the outskirts of their little group on her way across the platform. He watched her progression through the throng toward a large group of redheads a little ways away. Ron, who was in Harry’s year, was being fussed over by his mother. While the twins, who had already left Hogwarts, were handing out catalogs to any student that walked by. 
When Ginny reached her family, she glanced over her shoulder once and met Harry’s eye in an instant. Her hair was longer than when he had seen her at the end of last term, but her bright eyes were the exact shade he remembered. Like warm summer honey. Like dragon barrel brandy. Like glowing amber. 
A split second of impending confrontation passed between them. The kind of feeling that preceded a duel, the kind that narrowed his focus and set his nerves alight.
Then, she looked away, her gaze landing on something to his right, and the spell was broken. He allowed his eyes to linger on her for one extra moment, and noticed her cheeks held the faintest hint of pink. 
Wrenching his line of sight away from what the slight flush did to her freckles, Harry also glanced right to see what had caught her attention. He found his dad watching him with a knowing smirk. 
Of course, Ginny Weasley was staring at Dad. Everybody always stared at Dad. Or, at least, they stared at James Potter, Captain of the Tutshill Tornados. And they stared at Lily Evans Potter, author, activist and the best potion developer in generations. Which generally meant people stared at Harry, too, for having the audacity to exist as equal parts of both of them. 
“The Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, eh?” Dad asked in a mock whisper, reaching out to ruffle Harry's hair. 
Harry scowled at him and smoothed it all down again. 
"Go talk to her," Mum urged quietly and Harry nearly expired on the spot. 
"N-no!” he stammered in reply. “I don’t–it’s not…”
He trailed off as his parents exchanged barely concealed smiles. 
“You’ve got the wrong end of it,” Harry said in a rush. “She threatened to hex me into a jelly last year.”
If possible, Dad's grin stretched even wider. "Glad to see inter-house rivalry hasn't died completely."
Mum hummed thoughtfully as if she didn't quite agree. “Did you deserve it?” 
Harry shrugged, remembering the night he and Ron Weasley had accidentally disrupted a very private, very secret, passageway. “Does it matter? She’s still trouble.”
Dad slung an arm around Harry’s shoulders as the train bellowed out a warning whistle. “Not all trouble is bad, mate.”
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ginnyw-potter · 1 year
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"Harry?" Ginny said softly.
"Yeah?"
Giggles errupted from the three in front of him. He put down his quill. "Alright. That's three times you've called my name and— Why are you laughing?"
Ron tried to stop his laughter. "We were taking turns saying your name to see how you'd react."
"I like how your eyes soften when it's me," Ginny said with a fond smile.
"Great. Is that all?" Harry asked, looking between the three.
"I think it's sweet!" Ginny defended herself.
"You didn't even look up when it was me, you just hummed," Ron noted.
Harry shrugged. "Usually you'll just say what you want to say."
"He does do that," Hermione responded.
Ginny came to sit beside him. He turned to her, their eyes locking. She looked at him eagerly as they drowned in each other's eyes. He smiled at her.
"Hey, enough of that!" Ron objected. "Get a room!"
Ginny chuckled and leaned into him, her arms looping around him.
"Are my eyes soft enough for you, Weasley?" he teased softly.
"Yeah," she said. Her eyes were sparkling as she looked up at him.
Ron cleared his throat rather noisily.
"Ron, do you need a cough drop?" Ginny asked him with feigned innocence.
Harry grinned and turned to Ron, who crossed his arms.
"Don't do this in front of me!"
Harry scoffed. "Are you going to pretend your first kiss with Hermione wasn't in front of me?"
"You kissed my sister in front of me first! Half of bloody Gryffindor had to see it!" Ron retorted.
Harry looked over at Ginny. "Huh. Do you remember that?"
"Certainly not. No, I would remember our first kiss correctly. We went on a date and after hours and hours of lovingly staring into each other's eyes, Harry pulled me closer, getting a good grip on my bu—"
"Don't even think of finishing that sentence," Ron said, slapping his hands against his ears.
Harry laughed as he met eyes with Ginny again. She winked at him.
"I remembered it exactly like that too," he replied.
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