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#ginny Weasley angst
avalynlestrange · 8 months
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Ginny Weasley
Masterlist
⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
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⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
Back to The Library (Main Masterlist)
To The Kitchen (WIPs)
Send me an owl post if you have a fic request.
Tone: ♡ Fluff ♥ Angst ❥ Suggestive Themes
⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
✿ Coming Soon
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weasleyreidstyles · 3 months
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Serendipity
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chapter eleven
summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.
no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.
pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader
warning(s): fighting, mentions blood, more angst lol
series masterlist; previous part; next part
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The three of you sit in varying states of unrest beside Ron's hospital bed.
Hermione was still gripping his hand, as if her touch would entice him to wake up; Ginny was throwing a ball against the nearest wall as she quietly chatted to Mione, ignoring the glares of annoyance from the matron every time her ball made a thwack sound against the stone; you were sat on one of the uncomfortable chairs, a copy of 'Mythical Lore' in your lap, your eyes darting to and from Ron's chest to check that he was still breathing. Harry was Merlin knows where, but you knew he'd be back soon, never willing to leave his friends in distress for too long.
It had been like this for hours. Your tears had dried up and your anger had simmered away slowly; all that was left was the hollow feeling of helplessness and despair as you sat there.
Helpless against the poison that was slowly leaving Ron's bloodstream.
Helpless against forces that harmed your friends.
Helpless to whatever was happening to you.
A monster is what you were. A mythical, dangerous monster. Your gut churned with unease.
The somewhat peaceful atmosphere was interrupted as the doors to the Hospital Wing behind you burst open in a flurry that alerted Madame Pomfrey instantly.
"What is the meaning of this?" she said to whoever had appeared in the doorway. You swivelled in your seat to see, noting Ginny's incredulous look and Hermione's annoyed one, which could only mean one thing.
"Where is my Won-Won?" the squeaky voice of Lavender Brown sliced through the calm. "Cormac McClaggen told me he was here but I didn't believe him."
Madame Pomfrey tutted at her dramatics and pointed the girl in the direction of where you were all sat. You tensed at the blazing heat simmering in Lavender's eyes as she looked between Hermione's hand in Ron's.
"Y'alright Brown?" you say with a grimaced smile, discontent with the fact that you knew the other two wouldn't dare to speak. "Ron's been out for a few hours. Should be cognisant properly in a week's time."
Apparently you'd taken to snarky remarks to cover up your terror at the fact that he had not so much as stirred from his dreamless sleep. She turns to you then, her features betraying how worried she was for her boyfriend, but she had let jealousy rear its ugly head.
"And what is she doing here?" she hisses, pointedly looking at Hermione as you and Ginny share bewildered looks.
"Well-" you say, awkwardly glancing between the girls, "Well they're friends aren't they?"
"Yes well, you're friends with Theodore Nott, but it's so obvious that you're fucking each other behind closed doors." she snaps and you gape at her in disbelief. "Forgive me if I don't think that Granger's intentions are any less pure."
"I am not fucking Theodore." you jibe, throwing a whithering glare at Ginny who had let out a loud snort at Lavender's self assured statement.
"I've been friends with him for longer than he knew of your existence." Mione snapped, not letting go of Ron's hand, scowling as Lavender lets out a catty laugh.
"You're joking right? The two of you haven't had a civil conversation in weeks. But I suppose you want to make up with him now that he's all interesting." she says shrilly and its Ginny who whirls on her this time.
"You call being poisoned interesting? Are you that dim?" she questions and Lavender's resolve jostles only slightly.
Suddenly, Ron's features contort in discontent.
"Oh look at that." Lavender says smugly, eyes flicking to Hermione's grimacing face. "He senses my presence."
You yelp as she practically shoves you away from where you are sat, leaning over to peak at her boyfriend's face as it twitches with his dreams. He begins to mumble something that you can't make out and Lavender begins to encourage him to speak up, as if he'd be able to hear her.
You just stare at the back of the girl's head in annoyance until she staggers away, mouth agape with shock. You're confused until you hear it for yourself.
"Her- Mione. Mione. Mione." he chants her name like a siren's song.
Hermione smiles gently and her thumbs caresses his hand softly as he continues to mumble incoherently in his sleep. Lavender lets out a broken exhale and promptly flees the ward. You pity her in that moment. Not even the most incorrigible of people deserve that kind of betrayal.
The three of you are silent as you watch Ron. But he's sound asleep again. Still, as if it had been a combined figment of your imaginations. You stand to make the matron aware of this development, playfully shoving Ginny away as she taunts you.
"I can't believe she thought you and Nott are fucking." she laughed. "Unbelievable."
"Shut up." you berate her and she lets out a giggle before replying in a barely hidden whisper.
"Wrong Slytherin Prince, right?"
She smirks as you throw up a middle finger towards her as you reach the matron's office on the other end of the Hospital Wing.
~∞~
Somehow you've mastered the accute art of stealth.
In the week that has passed, you have managed to drift through the castle halls without so much as crossing paths with any of the Slytherin group. Partly due to the fact that you spent your time in the Hospital Wing with a near-cognisant Ron, in classes or in your dorm. You didn't dare go to the Room of Requirement or the library and you were eternally grateful that it was not your week to do the nightly Patrols.
Ancient Runes proved to be a difficult feat, but you somehow coerced a fellow Ravenclaw to switch seats with you in exchange for completing the next essay so that they could focus on training for the quidditch match at the end of the week. Under normal circumstances you would've abhorred the idea of it, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
You could feel his eyes practically burning holes to the back of your head in all your shared classes, and you felt him in the corridors, but you didn't dare give in. You didn't want to see him. Couldn't bare to face him.
Mattheo was restless and agitated. All week long you wouldn't so much as look at him, let alone deign to spend an ounce of time with him. He was worried.
When you slammed the common room door in his face a week ago, he had reluctantly confessed to his friends about what the two of you had discovered; each of his friends were wholly willing to help him find a way to help you, if only he could tell you the good news.
And he'd tried. He'd reached over the tether that had connected your mind to his, but each time he was met with an offensive wall of dark stone. You'd blocked him out completely, and he would've been impressed if he wasn't so desperate to hear your voice.
Now he knows how you must've felt all those weeks ago, but it's different now. Now there are feelings involved. Now he doesn't know how to cope without your snark and sarcasm.
When he found Jeremy Stretton sat in your seat in Ancient Runes he found his reigned in emotions snapping. Especially when he saw that you were sat in the front, happily chatting away to Hermione and one of the Patil twins, waiting for Professor Babbling to turn up. He doesn't know why the sight of the Chaser makes his blood boil.
Mattheo slammed his hands onto the desk, bringing his face level with Stretton's, who had looks up in startled alarm. Mattheo was seething, and he didn't particularly care that everyone was beginning to peer curiously at the scene that was beginning to unfold.
"What the fuck are you doing at my table, Stretton?" he snarled, eyes narrowing as his hands tightened around the lip of the desk.
To his credit, Jeremy shook off his stupor and looked at Mattheo obstinately.
"I'm sitting in my seat, Riddle. Problem?" the Ravenclaw chaser replied, challenge flaring in his oceanic eyes.
Mattheo's glare became venomous.
"That...is not...your seat." he said slowly, his voice low and dangerous. He could see you standing up in his peripheral, looking as if your going to intervene, but Granger stops you with a hand to your shoulder, a look of incredulity on her face. "I suggest you move, before I move you myself."
"Well actually," Stretton says with a barely there smirk, "I think you'll find that it is my seat. I don't know why it's taken her so long to do so, but Meadow practically begged me to swap and I can only oblige to her wishes."
He sees red almost instantly and Stretton's shirt collar finds its way into the clenched fists of Mattheo's hands, his hot breath fanning over the Ravenclaw's smirking face. He now knows why fury coats his every being with a tiny detail that whispered to his consciousness. Stretton had taken you to the Yule Ball two years ago. This was a product of pure jealousy as well as rage.
"Oooh did I hit a nerve?" Stretton says. "What could dear, sweet Meadow possibly see in you, Riddle?"
Mattheo doesn't register the feeling of his fist untangling from the shirt collar, until he feels the soft cartilage of Stretton's nose breaking beneath bloodied knuckles. He can vaguely hear Theodore and Pansy telling him to stop, can barely hear the sounds of people jeering and gasping at the scene. But what he does hear is your blessed voice.
"Mattheo stop it." you say, and it's like the sound brushes away the feelings clouding all his senses. He lets go of Stretton, who flops to the floor unceremoniously, but he doesn't pay him another glance. Not when you're looking at him the way you are. With bewilderment and what he thinks is unease. His breathing is ragged as he steps towards you, but you step back.
"Are you insane?" you hiss at him and to his utter horror, you turn your gaze to the blubbering boy on the floor and kneel down to help him instead.
"Jeremy?" the way you say his name with a soft tone grates through him and he's about to step towards you again, when Theodore's firm hand on his chest stops him.
"Let it go. You've already caused quite the scene brother." his voice is a gentle caress to his ears and his graciously listens to Theo who sighs in relief, pushing Mattheo out of the door, ignoring the shouts of Professor Babbling, who had just entered the classroom.
~∞~
Wordlessly, you heal Jeremy's wounds as Professor Babbling meanders in, unaware of the turmoil that had occurred only moments ago. Jeremy was hissing and cursing as your magic washed over his skin.
"You can take your godsdamned seat back, Meadow." he spat. "It's so not worth getting another beating over."
You smile grimly at him, guilt clouding your eyes. "Of course. I'm sorry, Jeremy."
"Not your fault, love." It's nearly impossible for you to hide the way the nickname makes you cringe. "Can't say I won't miss the opportunity for some extra quidditch practice though."
He bats your healing hands away as Professor Babbling stands above the two of you.
"What on Earth is going on?" she says, voice stern. "Does it have anything to do with why Masters Riddle and Nott are notably absent?"
Jeremy nods immediately at the same time that you freeze, not willing to give them up so easily. He stares at you incredulously. You clear your throat awkwardly.
"Uh, yes. Yeah." you say in a muted whisper. "But it's been sorted."
Jeremy throws you a look, which you adamantly ignore as you rise and go towards Pansy's table, taking Theo's empty seat. She doesn't so much as look your way, tense as you sit down. You close your eyes and sigh.
"Look I'm sorry that I've not spoken to you." you mumble without turning to face her.
"Ignored and neglected more like." she retorts in response. "I had no idea about Ron, Meadow. You have to believe me."
You reach over and squeeze her hand in your's. "I do believe you, Pans. I do. But it doesn't mean that the others didn't. And I-"
You're cut off by Professor Babbling's introduction to the lesson's topic, but the squeeze that Pansy's hand gives your's is all you need to know that you're both okay. And that's enough for now.
"For what it's worth," she mumbles almost imperceptibly. "You're doing an awfully good job of avoiding him. I've never seen Mattheo so ruffled."
Instead of satisfaction, that statement only brings you an aching sense of pain. And whether you do it unconsciously or not, you'll never admit, but your mental walls break down the smallest amount.
Enough for him to know that you're in as much agony as he is.
~∞~
As soon as Pansy leaves your side after you've walked out of Ancient Runes, Hermione is there immediately.
"Okay, what in Merlin's name happened in there?" she asks incredulously.
"We both know Riddle has a short fuse, Mione. It's not that abnormal to see." you retort and she gives you a disbelieving look.
"Maybe so, but it can't be just me that's noticed that he hasn't resorted in bloody fist fighting in months." Damn her and her brilliant observation skills. "And why was Stretton in your seat in the first place?"
"I asked to swap." you say with a shrug and when you don't give her the answer she's no doubt looking for, she pins you with a glare.
"You've been avoiding them all week. Parkinson, Nott and Riddle. You've spent more time with me, Ginny and Harry this week than you have all year."
"Tired of my presence already, Mione?" you say with the ghost of a smirk of your face. When she doesn't return your humour, you sigh. "I've been a little busy with visiting Ron. And maybe Harry's spiels have been getting to me."
"What?" she questions before lowering her voice. "You think they're Death Eaters?"
"I don't know what to think." you say. "But I can't talk to them. I won't."
"You spoke to Pansy, just fine earlier."
"She's not the one I'm avoiding."
A brief glance into her mind shows you that she thinks you're speaking about Theo. And while the thought of speaking to him after what he no doubt had a hand in helping orchestrate, seeing Mattheo, speaking to Mattheo, makes your heart want to drop right down to your stomach.
You can still feel the phantom of his power all this time later. Though that could just be you imagining it; you don't doubt that the brief feeling you got was exhilarating. It terrified you.
"Are you coming to see Ron after lunch?" Hermione asks as you part ways for your differing classes.
"Yeah. I'll find you in the Great Hall once I've finished Astronomy." you smile in farewell as she makes her way towards her Arithmancy lesson.
Your smile slips immediately as you turn the corner, because you find yourself trapped between a cold stone pillar, and his strong, muscled chest, his arms straining as they pin you to the hard structure. You don't look up to lock eyes, instead glaring intently at his loosened Slytherin tie.
"Hello, Princess." Mattheo spits menacingly. All he gets in response is a huff from you. "Still intent on avoiding me, are you?" he lets out a dark chuckle that sets your skin alight, and you can tell without looking that a sinister smirk paints his gorgeous face.
You feel as he sensually caresses your mind, and it has you keening into him.
Let me back in. His deep voice is demanding and assertive. At your blatent refusal he growls. Why won't you let me in?
I can't. You say back, your inner voice a mere whimper in comparison to his. He tilts his head down to look at you, chasing your eyes with his own. He can feel your fear and self hatred like it was highlighted in bold colours for all to see.
"What are you so afraid of, darling?" he asks out loud in a low and raspy tone that makes you melt. Your eyes shut on instinct, squeezing away the light until your dizzy.
"I'm going to be late for Astronomy." you say, deflecting and he scoffs, pushing you further into the wall.
"It's barely eleven o'clock. I'm sure you're not going to miss a change in star pattern any time soon."
"That's not even the point and you know it." you argue, trying in vain to evade his strong hold.
"Stop avoiding us. Stop avoiding me." he begs. "Do you know how insufferable Teddy has been?"
"What a horrible thing to say about your best friend." you retort halfheartedly. But Mattheo is only partially glad that you're returning his words with quips of sarcasm. He sighs.
"I don't blame you for what happened in my dorm, love." Unlike how you cringed away from Stretton, your heart sings at the nickname. "'S not your fault."
"I could've drained you to death, Théo." you say quietly, and his face heats at the shortened nickname. One that he had not heard in years, since the passing of Theodore's mother. "I don't know how you can stand to be around me."
You're still evading his eye contact, so he lifts a hand from the wall and gently cradles your chin, moving your gaze to his; bloody knuckles contrasting with the smoothness of your skin.
"You're not a monster." he says resolutely, like he truely believes it. "You never have been, and you never will be. Not to me, not to my friends, not to your friends, either."
Your brow furrows and your eyes line with unshed tears.
"I went to Dumbledore." you say and he stills. "After I left your common room. I went to him and he said I was a weapon. Because I can detect certain magical objects and people."
Mattheo's body lit up with fury again. You were not a weapon to be used and discarded. No, you were a person who did not belong on the frontlines of war.
"And what did you say to that?" he asks you, onyx eyes narrowed in anger that was not directed your way.
"I told him that I didn't know how to control it. That I wasn't interested in being fated to die." you say, and it feels good to talk about things you're too afraid to speak to your friends about. "I asked him to grant you all safety too."
At this, Mattheo's gaze snaps right to your own. Incredulity lacing his features. "Why would you do that?"
"He could see right through my shield." you defend yourself at his tone. "He refused anyhow. Said you had to ask for yourselves, and he knows that you won't."
He admired your ire for his friends. But he almost winces at the glare you send his way.
"You knew that he wouldn't help any of you no matter when or how I asked. Didn't you?" you couldn't believe him.
"You learn to expect nothing less from the people who expect nothing but bad intentions from you, sweetheart." he replied with a shrug. "Though I wish they'd help the others, no matter if they associate with me or not."
His face is dark as he lets you go. But you don't move away. Instead you tilt your head and stare up at him, eyes moving across his features: from his onyx eyes framed by gloriously long lashes; to the bridge of his nose, crooked from previous fights with a long scar stretching across the middle of it; to his perfect mouth that pouts slightly as he gazes down at you.
Keep looking at me like that and I'll take you in this very corridor. He snarls in your mind and you smirk.
Kinky. But I draw the line at exhibitionism. You pat at his hard, muscled chest and make to move away and run towards the class that you are no doubt now late for. But he stops you with a firm grip to your bicep and he spins you around to face him again.
"Tease." he mutters with his own smirk as he presses his lips to your's. It's as euphoric as the first time, and every time after that as his lips fight against your's, ultimately winning your miniature battle for dominance. You mewl into his mouth as his tongue brushes against your's, hands clawing at the hairs at the nape of his neck as he pushes you into the wall once more.
You're so lost in eachother that you don't hear them when they turn the corner. Ginny and Harry stop dead in their tracks as they stare at the two of you wide eyed. The former smirks at the thought of finally catching you out but it drops immediately when she turns to the boy beside her who is visibly fuming. And she can't steer him away fast enough to save you from his wrath.
"Shacking up with Death Eaters now, Meadow? I thought that was below you." the spitting sound of your best friend's voice breaks you from your daydream like state and you force yourself away from Mattheo's wondering mouth to gape at your two friends.
Ginny is sending you an apologetic look which you bypass in order to face the scathing eyes of Harry Potter.
"Harry-" you say, stepping out from where you're trapped between Mattheo and the wall, and you're so grateful that he doesn't keep you pinned there, instead he stands slightly infront of you, arms folded, a glare set on his face.
"Don't." Harry says, eying the way Riddle stands infront of you protectively. "All this time, I thought you were only tutoring him for Nott's sake. But, of course you just had to get in his bed, too."
The hand on his bicep is the only thing stopping Mattheo from launching at the boy.
"Watch it, Potter." he snaps, his position infront of you turning defensive.
Harry lets out an incredulous laugh; Ginny's attempts to persuade him to leave it alone, are ignored.
"I overheard you." he continues as if Mattheo had not spoken at all. "In Dumbledore's office. Begging him to help your friends."
You don't know what to say. Starstruck by his anger. But you understand why he's angry at you, and that ache burns ever brighter in your chest.
"The same friends who have tormented us, tormented you for years. How can you even ask such a thing?"
"They deserve to be helped just as much as the rest of us." you say at last, your voice quiet and on the verge of cracking with emotion. The lump in your throat gets bigger with every word you speak. "You know what it's like to grow up in an unwanted home Harry. You know that no one deserves that."
"That's not the point Meadow." he snaps and he visibly delights in the way you recoil at his words. "They're all Death Eaters. Working for his–" he points a steady finger to the boy stood beside you, "-father. Did you ever stop to think that they were buttering you up to take to him once they got wind of your powers."
You blanch at that and turn your gaze to Ginny. She gapes between the three of you and avoids Harry's eyes. "I didn't tell anyone. I promise you, Meadow." her resolute tone is the only thing grounding you to reality right now.
Harry shakes his head. "Dumbledore told me that you can siphon people's power as well as perform Occlimency. When were you going to tell us?" his anger gives way to betrayal as he looks you up and down. And the way he spits out the word 'siphon' tells you everything you need to know. He thinks you're a monster.
"I was going to tell the rest of you." you promise, not looking at Ginny again. "But only when I had a better grasp of it."
Harry scoffs and steps towards you. Rolling his eyes when Mattheo stands directly ahead of you.
"Back off Potter. If you know what's good for you."
The way his venomous lilt travels through you should make you ashamed, but it only sends sparks of arousal to your core.
Harry only looks at you from over Mattheo's shoulder, distain painting his pale face as he utters a heartbreaking sentence before he leaves, with Ginny following quickly behind him, with a silent promise to find you later and apologise for Harry's (entirely justifiable, you think) words.
"Don't go to see Ron later, and don't you dare seek us out again. I don't trust you, and I don't know if I ever will again."
Mattheo is onto you the second the pair depart, wrapping you in his arms as you collapse from the onslaught of emotion that crashes down on you.
What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? You say over and over and he does his best to comfort you, going as far as to sit against the wall, cold floor stinging against the fabric of his school trousers, cradling you into his chest.
It's okay. I'll fix it. I promise. Is all he can muster up in comfort as you crumble before his very eyes, sinking into his embrace.
~∞~
i love writing angst lol i hope you enjoyed this shortish chapter (lots of time skips im sorry)
the coming updates will probably be slow since i've gone back to uni - i have to complete three presentations and come up with a product idea and a lab report in like 5 weeks 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲
i've tried to fix it and i've reported the bug but i'm still incapable of editing pretty much all of my posts (not the serendipity masterlist post though, thankfully) and its getting quite frustrating now but we move 🫡
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ravenelyx · 1 year
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I love you in every timeline - Prologue: In Search of Lost Time
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Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader
Words: 1.9k
Chapter Warnings: angst if you squint, Harry Potter characters appearance, no name appearance (not even y/n dw), some swearing, use of 2nd person for the reader (I know I know but I promise it makes sense for the story)
Summary: "He turned around, and the world seemed to stop around him. She had followed him: into another timeline, into another universe.". In which Sebastian, in his search for a cure in the Dark Arts, finds himself 100 years into the future and meets his most trusted companion's descendant (who looks far too similar to the girl he was once secretly in love with).
A/N: this is the first english fic I've written, so I'm terrified. Anyway, Trimetravel! AU with Sebastian Sallow. Some background info: Reader is not MC; Reader is a Gryffindor, MC was a Slytherin; MC was a Pureblood, Reader is a Muggle Born. Also, english is not my first language so if you find any mistakes, I deeply apologise. Not proof-read (for obvious reasons).
→ Find the rest of the fanfiction here on AO3 :)
"For we are not as faithful to the being we have most loved as we are to ourselves and sooner or later we forget her — since that is one of our characteristics — so as to start loving another." - Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time
If a chasm had opened under Sebastian's feet and swallowed him all the way to the depths of hell, he would have gladly accepted his demise there and then.
Unfortunately, its mercy seemed to be out of business that day — or any other day in his life, really.
Sebastian paced the corridors, a frown adorning his face; he had just come out of the Headmaster's office due to the absolute disaster that had occurred to him just a few hours prior.
After weeks of research, he had finally found something that could help him, a breakthrough with which he could finally achieve his goal. An artefact so powerful that it could break the fabric of time and space, something that could help his poor sister live a happy and healthy life again. He did not care that they were not on speaking terms at the moment: he would find a way to talk to her so that she would take this last chance. He would force her if he had to. It was his last hope, and Merlin knows he had tried everything.
If he had known about the artefact's effects earlier, he would have thought twice before using it.
"So, Mr Sallow, could you be so kind as to tell us how you came to be in our time?" the Headmaster, who had earlier introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore, had asked him.
Truth was that not having stopped dwelling with the Dark Arts in search of a cure for Anne had led him to find himself in another timeline instead. His face twitched: in terms of unlikelihood, the scales seemed pretty unbalanced.
It had been a brief conversation, really, with Sebastian omitting some details (like his friendship with an Ancient Magic wielder or the murder of his uncle, for which he bore full responsibility) and grimacing against his own will when the Headmaster had looked at him through his half-moon shaped glasses as if asking him, 'Why are you lying to me?'
He had pushed the thoughts away as quickly as they had come: it wasn't like he could read his mind... or could he?
Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief when the Headmaster had dismissed him after giving him specific instructions on how to behave until they found a way to return him to his timeline — one of which was, "Please don't inform anyone of your condition unless it's absolutely necessary." That had seemed quite reasonable to him, so he nodded.
The artefact was damaged, as expected, and unlikely to work again unless a powerful form of magic came into contact with it and repaired it: something like Ancient Magic, perhaps, or a miracle.
"I see you're still causing trouble everywhere you fare, aren't you, Mr Sallow?" the familiar voice of Phineas Nigellus Black had mocked from his portrait, effectively startling him. Sebastian had looked up and into the eyes of his old Headmaster, his mouth falling open at the sight of him. He looked old, weary, and angrier somehow — yet, in a way, he had brought Sebastian some form of comfort, almost. A sense of familiarity.
Before he could have said anything, Black had disappeared, and a woman with severe blue eyes and long robes had escorted him out of the office.
-
Sebastian looked around at his familiar surroundings, which would have been almost comforting if not for the nameless faces looking at him with curiosity: Hogwarts students tended to recognise each other effortlessly, and anyone who didn't fit into that bundle of familiarity was to be ostracised. He remembered all too well when he was the one helping the new fifth-year find her way around those same corridors, except he didn't need guidance: this was his home, after all.
But he did have a guide, and she wasn't as charming a student as he was either.
The Head of the Gryffindor House walked right next to him, a stern expression on her face made even more prominent by the shadow of her large witch hat. The woman Sebastian had come to know as Minerva McGonagall was also the Transfiguration teacher and Deputy Headmistress, at least it seemed that way, which was no doubt why she was accompanying him rather than the Head of his own House.
Sebastian decided not to ask himself any questions and do what the Headmaster told him to: attend class, fit in, and pretend to be either a transfer student or someone with a complex background — he hadn't decided which story to tell yet (and both, in a way or another, would be true).
The clacking of Professor McGonagall's shoes stopped so abruptly that he almost would have missed it if she hadn't started speaking.
"You're about to meet two of your new classmates. Prefects of the Gryffindor House." She raised her left arm in their direction, and his eyes followed it to two red and gold robes leading into warm faces.
"I am pleased to introduce you to Ms Hermione Granger—" she gestured to the girl with curly hair to her left, who wore a friendly smile all while maintaining a serious and clean look, "—and Mr Ronald Weasley." Sebastian's eyes shot to the boy to his right when he heard the familiar name, and to be honest, he might not have needed an introduction at all: the red-haired boy gave him a wry smile, his freckles standing out even more in the natural light. He would have recognised those features anywhere.
Finally, Sebastian noticed their uniforms. He didn't pay much attention to the boy's — he himself also wore a very similar one, uncomfortable and informal as it seemed to him — for his eyes were fixed on the girl's. She was wearing a grey cardigan with red and gold trim, the colours of her House, and her skirt was much shorter than he remembered, with black denier tights covering the rest of her legs. Sebastian felt himself blushing slightly and averted his eyes.
He wondered why the Slytherin prefects were unsuited to the situation: at the end of the day, he was a Slytherin, too. Sebastian didn't undergo the Sorting again — the Professors didn't seem to deem it necessary, not to mention the Hat had recognised him from his shelf, too. He didn’t forget easily.
McGonagall turned back to Sebastian and briefly adjusted his robes, her face softening slightly, "For the time being, it is best if you don't draw attention to yourself. We will find a solution," she straightened her posture and nodded at him, "Welcome to Hogwarts." She turned on her heels and walked away, leaving him with the two Gryffindors.
He studied their faces for a moment, searching for the right words to say, deciding on which story to tell, but the only thing he could muster was: "How come you're Gryffindors?"
The two students stared at him, appalled, and he mentally slapped himself. He wanted to correct his statement and explain his intention, but the girl stopped him before he could even form a coherent thought.
"You're wondering why they asked us to guide you and not the Slytherin Prefects, am I right?"
Either his question wasn't that unclear, or the girl had excellent deduction skills, and judging by the epiphany on the other boy's face when he understood the meaning of her words, it was most likely the latter.
Sebastian sighed inwardly and nodded, mentally promising not to stumble over his words again.
The boy — Ronald, Sebastian recalled — chimed in: "Because otherwise you'd have to deal with Malfoy, and he's an idio—" the girl slapped him on the arm and gave him a warning look before turning back to Sebastian.
Malfoy, Sebastian thought. A family of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It was clear why a Weasley would want nothing to do with him.
Sebastian wondered if they still held the same values as in his day: if the Malfoys were still blood maniacs, and so was the person they spoke of, or if he wanted to distance himself from his family as Ominis did. Judging by Ronald's opinion of him, Sebastian did not think that was possible, but then again, he did not know the fellow. Maybe, Sebastian thought, things had moved on after a century: no blood wars, discrimination or superiority complexes. Perhaps this was all just a simple rivalry between two students from different Houses.
"Professor Dumbledore thought us to be best suited for this difficult situation. No other student but us knows about your... misadventure," said Hermione.
To call it a "misadventure" would be an understatement , Sebastian wanted to say. As it turned out, however, he didn't need a story to tell. He didn't know whether to feel betrayed by the Professors who had decided to disclose that information or relieved that he didn't have to go through it all alone. A beat of silence followed, in which Sebastian could only nod at the girl's words, and then it was interrupted abruptly.
"Where have you been?" called a voice from the end of the corridor, directly behind Sebastian.
He turned around, and the world seemed to stop around him.
He definitely didn't have to go through it all alone because there she was. Standing a few feet away from him, looking straight at him, was the person who had accompanied him on all his adventures.
She had followed him: into another timeline, into another universe.
He felt his lips twist into a grin, and he beamed at the sight of her. Had she been looking for him?
He frowned a little as he noticed her expression: she seemed annoyed, almost angry. Perhaps she had no intention of following him and had just ended up here for no reason? Were the two of them connected on a deeper level than he thought? Or perhaps she was just worried for him and angry he didn't look for her too?
The girl started to walk towards them, and his smile widened even more the closer she got.
She was almost there when he realised she wasn't sparing him a glance.
Instead, her eyes were focused on the red-haired boy next to him, who was staring at her in horror, looking completely terrified.
Sebastian looked back at the girl, finally noticing the red and gold tie around her neck where a green and silver one usually belonged, a crease in her eyebrows that wasn't there before, and her eyes were a different colour than he remembered.
What the hell is going on here?  he thought, staring at her wide-eyed.
"Ron, for God's sake, I've been looking all over for you! Do you intend to give me back my book before class starts, or should I pull a new one out of a hat because you can't use your own?" she threw her hands in the air disapprovingly.
Ron stuttered briefly before hesitantly pointing at the Slytherin boy next to him, "I've just had too much to do. Prefect stuff, you know."
The girl scowled at him before turning to the said boy, her eyes softening slightly. "Oh! You're the new fifth-year!"
Sebastian's eye twitched. How bloody ironic.
"I'm Sebastian Sallow," he replied feebly, body stock-still like marble.
"Nice to meet you," she smiled politely.
And then she introduced herself.
His breath caught in his throat. Sebastian could have recognised that surname anywhere, but her name fell completely deaf on his ears.
You weren't her.
--
→ Chapter 1
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albaskies · 1 month
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Tears ricochet
It occurs to her all at once, her nose buried in his chest, his arms tight around her shoulders. 
‘You’re alright,’ he whispers. ‘You’re alright.’
When she looks up to him, sees his eyes shut and his tense lips, she immediately knows he is not trying to reassure her. He is reassuring himself.
He’d found her in the Common Room, not long after he’d disappeared with Professor McGonagall behind the doors of the hospital wing. He’d walked straight to her as soon as he’d seen her, ignoring Ron and Hermione’s worried looks, and he’d held like he had not seen her since before he’d left the school with Dumbledore. He’d clung to her like he’d only just realised that they had been apart during a battle, that he’d been too far away to protect her, that he cannot be in two places at once. And it pains him, she can tell, it takes his breath away.
This must be it, she thinks - she knows. She clenches her fists, pressing her body onto his only for him to feel that she’s alive, she’s safe, she’s real. She won’t leave him, not until he’ll ask her to.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid and noble.
.
No, she understands. Really, she does. It must’ve been somewhere hidden in the  fine print on dating the Chosen One. Right under He will set off to top-secret missions with old wizards that end up dying, it’d say: He’ll push you away to keep you safe, and then: He’ll leave you behind, whatever that means. And finally: You must let him.
After all, her feelings are irrelevant in the bigger picture. There’s a war raging out there, for Merlin’s sake. Why would she even waste time fantasising about a boy she fancies when Dumbledore has died and her brother has been maimed? It’s only selfish to even fathom those silly feelings in a time like this, right? Right?
She forces her head back under the hot stream of the shower, lets the water flood her face and blur her vision, trying harder than herself to shut down that one intrusive thought she knows has now started creeping in the back of her mind. But she can’t. She can’t because she already knows, not so deep down, that he’s not just some boy she fancies, that her feelings aren’t silly, that what they share is there and it’s real, whatever it is.
Her mouth tastes bitter now. Ironic how Tom has ruined this for them, too. 
.
She tells Hermione the following morning, when the boys have run off to find some lunch for them to eat under a tree. She’s not sure what she expects to get out of her, but she takes a shot at it anyway.
‘He’s going to leave me.’
Hermione opens her mouth but nothing comes out, her eyes sombre. Ginny realises she has been holding her breath.
‘You all are.’
Still, the warm July sun bathes the castle grounds as if summer does not care, as if it is all some cruel joke.
.
When it finally happens, at least she is not caught off guard. She manages to hold back her tears, just as she promised herself on countless occasions, because he does not deserve any more pain. He does not deserve any of it. 
Funny how she is the one who is getting her heart broken, but she is still more concerned about his well being than anything else. Maybe this is what love is, she finally realises. It must be. 
She reckons this is not the best time to tell him. Wonders if she’ll ever get the chance to.
.
On the train ride back home, she’s finally alone and free to let out all those tears she’s so stubbornly managed to hold back until now. She’s only human, after all. 
She feels it all so distinctly now, the pain, the grief, the hurt, the hopelessness. But there is something almost peaceful about the deep-rooted, ever-present, plain old sense of acceptance that sits right on top of her stomach. 
She knows it too well that the time has come for the Chosen One to prevail over Harry. The Chosen One has things to do, riddles to solve (Really, Ginny?, she thinks, half-smiling despite herself), and Harry has to oblige, head down, feelings buried, a wasted adolescence. It must be hard to love the Chosen One, that self-sacrificing, reckless, stubborn, noble git. But loving Harry, the real Harry, is the easiest thing in the world. 
As for her - well, she knows she deeply cares for them both. Hell with that, she knows she loves them both. And, yes, she understands them both. She knows all too well what her role is, in all this mess. She really does know that the Chosen One had no choice but to break up with her before doing whatever he is set to do. She also knows that Harry never would have. 
This is the only thought that will keep her going even months from now, when she will be fighting her own resistance battle.
.
As soon as she sets foot into her home, the all-too-familiar smells flooding her senses, she just knows she won’t be able to sit through an entire dinner without giving away too much. She’s too tired to lie and pretend.
‘I’m going to bed,’ she mutters to nobody in particular. ‘I’m not hungry,’ and: ‘Yes, I’m fine, I’m just knackered.’
Her mother stiffens, ready to let out a protest, but she turns on her heels towards the stairs before anyone manages to say anything. She can feel Ron’s eyes on the back of her neck, just as she’s felt his silent and constant gaze since they got off the train not so long ago. And when she hears his heavy steps behind her, following hers, she’s not even surprised.
They stop on the first floor landing, just in front of her bedroom door.
‘I’m fine, Ron,’ she quickly tells him, suddenly worrying that he’ll jump right into one of those how dare my best friend hurt my sister kind of rants. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
But instead, when she looks at him she realises that he’s not going to do any of that. His expression is miserable, sure, but it doesn’t take long for her to learn that he understands, too.
‘I’m so sorry, Ginny,’ he blurts out, no need to add more.
And that’s when it hits her, again, but much stronger this time. Maybe it’s because it’s someone else who is putting it in front of her, making it more real, or maybe it’s because she’s back home and the void left by Harry's absence is slowly starting to burn a hole in her heart. Maybe both, or maybe neither. It doesn’t even matter, that's for sure.
‘I’m sorry, too.’
He must have felt that something has changed, her voice has shifted and her eyes have filled with tears. She can read it all over his face - the distress, the panic, the what do I do now. She reckons she hasn’t cried in front of him since that train ride on her way to school in her second year. Must be new for him, must feel weird.
But even if his expression doesn’t seem to have a clue, his body certainly does - he stretches out his arm towards her and she grabs it right away, as if they have never really got rid of the long forgone habit of holding each other. He engulfs her in a warm hug, the Big Brother Hug, crumbling the last piece of guard she has managed to hold up until now. And then she just cries - she cries ugly, sobs and snot and all that. She feels like she’s twelve all over again.
.
Later, in her childhood bedroom, she sinks deep into her bed, ready to doze off into what she hopes will be dreamless oblivion. In that dark, quiet stillness, she can’t stop her mind from wandering to a time (or a fantasy, she isn’t quite sure) when this will all be over. He will slip into the very same tiny bed, squeezed right next to her, his hands gripped on her waist, lips pressed onto hers, then on her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. Or maybe - no, maybe she will rest her head on his chest, listening to the sound of him breathing, and he will gently stroke her hair as if he’s never really stopped. Or maybe (and here she can’t help but feel a soft blush tickling her cheeks), maybe their bodies and souls will find each other, bare, warm, breathless. 
‘I can’t believe I got this lucky,’ he’ll tell her, you know, after. ‘I can’t believe I get to live this life.’
‘Been dreaming of getting in my bed for long, now, have you,’ she’ll tease, her sardonic tone merely hiding her immense relief.
He’ll let out a small smile - small, yes, but finally light, free, and easy, so, so easy.
‘All those Veelas didn’t quite hit’, he’ll draw some imaginary quotation marks in the air and throw her a knowing look. ‘The spot, you know.’
She’ll snort a laughter in disbelief, and she’ll be so fucking glad, because as though everything will have changed, so much will have just stayed the same.
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mastermindmiko · 1 year
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Heaven on earth
Pairing: Fred Weasley + fem!reader
Word count: 2852
summary: You spent Christmas at the burrow with the rest of the Weasleys while trying to get over your long-term crush Fred Weasley because you weren’t sure how your best friend Ginny would react to your feelings. 
Trigger Warnings: One tiny sexual thought, Fred calling you ‘sis’ twice maybe?, parents being judggy, horrible writing, kissing and mentions of sex
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Requests are open
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You were at the burrow for Christmas with your best friend Ginny Weasley. Your parents were away for a trip and you were going to stay at Hogwarts, but then Ginny found out and insisted that you stay with her. When you refused for the first time, she practically dragged you here. 
You loved Ginny and all the Weasleys, you would’ve loved staying with them for Christmas and even for the rest of your life. There was however a small complication, you’ve liked Fred for two years. The only reason this would be a problem is because when you first started hanging out with Ginny she confessed about how many other people she befriended only used her to reach her brothers. 
You then promised that you would never do that to her, but you were eleven when you said that. Boys were disgusting creatures, some of them still are but there are few exceptions. You first started catching feelings for Fred when you were thirteen and now at the age of fifteen your feelings only intensified. 
You couldn’t help but believe that even if Ginny’s feelings wouldn’t get hurt by assuming that you used her for this long, Fred only views you as a little sister since you hung out so much with Ginny. 
Fred had done things that could’ve made you think that he actually liked you but then he’d go and call you a good friend for his sister. Back in your third year he called you ‘sis’ you had spent the week on the verge of crying, and then he asked Angelina to the yule ball, it only made you sadder. You couldn’t even talk to Ginny about it, so your feelings were bottled up for a long time. Now you have a better grip of your feelings considering your best friend's brother.
You were now being greeted by everyone at the burrow, Molly gave you a kiss on your head and said how happy she was to see you. You gave her a smile and you greeted Bill, Charlie and George; and you had even talked to Harry who even though he had been on the train together you didn’t talk to him. You had already talked to Ron earlier so you didn’t bother talking to him. 
Fred then came down rushing in, saying out loud “What’s happening?” When he reached the bottom of the stairs his eyes skimmed the room smiling when he noticed his siblings. 
Even though Ginny mentioned that Fred and George -as they should- still spent Christmas at the Burrow, you weren’t ready to see Fred. You had always been able to tell Fred and George apart even by the slight differences on their faces. 
You would never admit it but most of your time in the Great Hall was spent looking at Fred not eating. His smile fell off his face when he saw you standing there, you averted your gaze from him; on the train you had decided that now that you were going to see Fred it would be the perfect opportunity to get over all your feelings. 
You would now see him for almost three weeks and that means you wouldn’t have time to fantasise about him; and you could focus on his flaws -which you were yet to find any that bothered you enough to get over him- 
You watched as he greeted Ron, Harry, and Ginny; you tried not to notice the cute smile on his face as he saw the rest of his family for the first time in a while, and you suppressed the fluttering feeling in your stomach. Molly ushered everyone to the kitchen and you said in a raised voice “I’m going to go get my bags, I left them outside.” 
You went out the door and started to grab your heavy suitcase; when you had lifted it near your chest you noticed it got much lighter. You at first thought you were getting stronger but then you heard a small “Hi.”
You let out a small squeak and jumped slightly letting go of the suitcase, taking a step away. Fred was standing there with your heavy suitcase in one hand, you noticed how the veins in his hands and arms flexed; and you tried not to think about them around your body and your neck. 
He had the other hand in a wave motion, you then said “Hey.” 
“I just came out to help you with your bag, and uh I didn’t get to talk to you when I came downstairs.” He said as he moved closer to you and let go of your bag, putting it on the ground. You didn’t notice what he was doing until he had wrapped you in a tight embrace, you ignored the butterflies and put your arms around him. You didn’t let yourself indulge in the moment and his comforting smell -marshmallows and fireworks-
Fred let out a large sigh when he put his arms around you, he felt himself relax even more as you reciprocated his hug. As soon as he saw you in the Burrow his heart almost leaped out of his chest, and he didn’t know how to react -not expecting to see you there- So he wiped his face from all emotion as he did in emotional moments. He was going to the kitchen when George elbowed him in the ribs and told him to go help ‘his future girl’ with carrying her bag. 
He knew for a fact that right now while Ginny, his dad and mom were preparing the dinner, all his siblings and Harry were looking out the window watching this interaction with their full attention. George had found out about his feelings because of how much his gaze went to you during Hogwarts; and Ron and Harry found out by how much of Fred’s letters to Ron were mostly questions about you. Bill and Charlie found out by Ron blabbing about it in front of them, he got teased endlessly by his older brothers. He would’ve asked Ginny for the information about you and he did but he then stopped when his mom lectured all of the brothers about how Ginny thinks that all her friends like her because of them. 
He couldn’t do that to his sister so instead he opted to talk to Ron about you and make all his brothers swear not to tell Ginny about his obvious feelings. He started liking you last year and he cringed at the memory of him calling you a sister in his sixth year. He let go of you slowly, noticing that the amount of time you both hugged would’ve been too much for you not to notice his feelings. 
He grabbed your bag from the ground and you smiled at him gratefully, he didn’t utter a single word as he walked to the burrow with you beside him. He opened the door for you then he put the bag down, he looked at you with a slight blush -that you didn’t notice. 
“Thanks.” You said looking at him, he averted your gaze and replied “No problem, sis.” He then turned around and went quickly to the kitchen, and you tried not to give a single care to the sinking feeling in your chest and you reminded yourself that this is the reason why you have to get over him; and it seemed as if it wouldn’t be that hard because he didn’t talk to you for the next two days. 
***
It was Christmas and you were in Ginny’s room putting on a warmer jacket while everyone was downstairs exchanging presents. You had gotten Molly a muggle cook book and Arthur a bunch of muggle stationary with a camera, and you had gotten Ginny a broomstick kit. Ginny insisted that you only get presents for three people because of how you didn’t know that you were coming and that she didn’t want you spending too much money with your parents out of the country. 
You picked up the jacket and went to stand in front of a mirror to put it on when you heard a knock on the door. “Come in.” you said, and watched as Fred came into the room. Your eyebrows furrowed, a feeling of slight hurt going over you at remembering him calling you a sister. You had talked to him after but only the essential things like "Fred can you pass me the salt?” and him giving it to you and after a small thanks from you a small, “no problem.” 
“Hi.” He said, and you replied with a small awkward, “hi.” 
He stepped closer to you as he said “I got you something.” Only then you registered the small red box he had in his hand, and then you quickly felt both flattered and guilty “Fred, I didn’t get you anything; you shouldn’t have.” 
He waved a hand in a dismissing motion, he felt nervous; which he never did around girls, maybe it was because he actually liked you and that he would actually feel sad if he ruined your already fragile relationship. He only called you a sister once again because he felt nervous and it’s an immediate feeling dismisser. After he had told his brothers the story they had a good laugh and they told him to get you a gift to try to mend your friendship, because if that’s the only thing that you both could have together he wanted it all. 
He spent hours trying to find the perfect gift for you, he had found Angelina also shopping for a gift and when he asked her for advice after laughing at his face she told him to get a customisable one. He had got you a necklace that said “amica mea” It meant “my love” in latin, and he wasn’t smart enough to know that so that was another thanks to Angelina. 
You watched as he handed you the box and said “Merry Christmas.” You grabbed the box from him with a blush that matched its colour, and you opened it and there was a silver necklace with some words that you were too nervous and flattered to ask what they meant. “Can you-” you said as you motioned between the necklace and your neck. 
He nodded quickly as he said “yeah, yeah.” He ran behind you and took the necklace from your hand and opened it, he pushed your hair from your neck which caused goosebumps to rise on your neck and butterflies to start flying in Fred’s stomach. You looked at him from the mirror and watched as he placed the necklace around your neck, his hands lingered there for a few seconds; before your eyes connected in the mirror. 
You turned around and your turn made your hair fall on your back once again, you shyly tilted your head up to him and said “I really like it. Thank you.” He shook his head slightly as he looked at you and said “It’s nothing.” 
You kept looking into his eyes as you asked “What does it mean?” You didn’t notice the blush on his face but you did notice his gaze going to your lips, and you couldn’t help but lick them under his gaze. “It means-” he cut himself off as he leaned in slightly and licked his own lips and he continued “It means-” 
His sentence was cut off by Ginny entering the room saying your name loudly and followed by “Dinner’s ready!” You and Fred moved apart quickly and you hoped she wouldn’t notice your blush or the necklace. Her eyes skimmed the room and both of you then repeated her sentence “Dinner’s ready, come on let’s go.” 
You nodded as you quickly left the room trying to erase the blush from your face while going down the stairs. You had forgotten to put on the jacket that was still on your arm and you put it on. When you reached down stairs, it seemed that you and Fred had a mutual unspoken agreement that you wouldn’t mention what could’ve happened and that you both would ignore how your hearts skipped several beats at the thought of the interaction. 
Molly had ushered everyone together so Arthur could take a picture of the entire family with you and Harry at Christmas. While everyone was standing into the frame, Fred watched as his father struggled to work the camera that you got him. Charlie, Bill and George all kept switching places until you and Fred were standing beside each other. 
He glared at his brothers while they gave him shameless smiles. Ginny and you wrapped your arms around each other when Ginny whispered a joke to you, you laughed and an instant smile appeared on Fred’s face and then Arthur clicked the camera. 
Molly replicated the picture into two and gave you one and framed the other with her wand. It was a moving picture because you asked George to charm it. The picture was everyone smiling while you burst into laughter from Ginny’s joke. You didn’t notice Fred looking at you like he just found out that there was a heaven on earth because of you but Ginny did.
***
You had your bags in your hand as you were standing in front of the door, you waited for everyone to go downstairs and say goodbye to you. You wore a dress because your parents were coming today and they always judged you and you wanted to make them proud so you tried to look good. 
Fred entered the room, you were still wearing the necklace he gave you and you were frantically straightening out your hair and outfit trying to look as perfect as possible. When you saw him you asked “Do I look okay?” 
He nodded and said “you look beautiful as always.” A blush covered your cheeks when he came closer to you and pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. His gaze lingered on your lips and then you decided to be brave, you cupped his face with your hands and pressed your lips against his. 
you pull back feeling him unmoving; you see him frozen, face emotionless. Apologies immediately start tumbling from your mouth, mostly consisting of swear words and ‘sorry’s’ and ‘I should have asked you first’. your face is extremely flushed 20% from the kiss and 80% from embarrassment. You moved back several steps, and you grabbed your suitcase again.
Then you hear him mumble a few words that you didn't catch. “What?” you asked in a dazed voice, trying to suppress the blush that is on your face right now; and trying to recover from the embarrassment. 
“Do it again.”
Now you’re the one whose frozen, your blush intensifies. He probably catches on to the fact that you won’t be moving any time soon and adds, “or I will.”
Then the next thing you know is his lips on yours. He had crossed the room in a matter of seconds, and cupped your face with both his hands. Your face fit perfectly in his hands as if he was made to hold you and you made to be with him. After the shock from his actions had fully settled you let your suitcase drop on the floor carelessly and you fisted the collar of his robes in your hands and pulled him down, so you can kiss him properly. 
You felt him smile in the kiss and you smiled as well, you then were interrupted by several loud cheers from George, Bill, Charlie and Ginny. You were embarrassed and you were worried that Ginny was mad but then you registered the cheering and that she said “About time.” 
You furrowed your eyebrows and Ginny rolled her eyes at your reaction. She let out a large scoff and said “You seriously didn’t think I’d notice you gawking at my brother for the past two years everyday.” She saw Fred smirk and she then turned to him and added “Don’t get too cocky yourself, you couldn’t send me a letter for an entire year without asking me about her. You also gave her a necklace with the words ‘My love’ written on them, you weren’t really subtle.” 
George, Bill and Charlie erupted with laughter at both your faces. You said goodbye to everyone and then you walked out only to find Fred holding your suitcase smirking “I’ll take you back.” You smiled at his words and went with him. 
You didn’t get home until after midnight. You and Fred got side-tracked and he insisted on taking you out on a date that involved more kissing and a lot more than that.
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siriusly-parker · 2 years
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—random lightning era headcanons, hp.
ʚ author’s note: these are MY personal headcanons. you don’t have to like them, but maybe you will. also- i KNOW mattheo and enzo are not even canon and that theo is hardly even mentioned but i thought it’d be cute to add them. mainly theo cause i love fanon theo (sometimes). ꜝꜞ
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ron is super mega tall, taller than the twins. maybe even taller than bill.
harry is of average height but looks like a short king besides ron.
theo is basically a grumpy old man in the body of a teenage heartthrob.
blaise is just a sweetheart. fr the bestest friend.
draco can’t read in between the lines. he’s book smart but when it comes to people and social interactions he can be pretty stupid. you can’t just give him a hint, he won’t get it.
hermione actually really liked krum.
harry actually attended theo’s mother’s funeral. (they were on somewhat friendly terms after having to team up for an assignment.)
ginny likes girls. dean likes seamus. both knew.
draco, mattheo and enzo (along with crab and goyle) are more of the bullies of the group.
angelina and george are part of a tutoring program and tutor younger students. though he’s really good in potions, george only does it to spend time with her.
ron secretly tries to read muggle books to impress hermione.
mattheo is just plain rude with anger issues. he pretty much hates everyone.
theo is just more of an introvert so he doesn’t really feel the need to talk to everyone, let alone bully them.
blaise is not very smart but he really tries his best and studies a lot. he also reminds (or forces) the others to study as well.
in her firsts years at hogwarts, pansy was mostly a bitch and a bully (to impress malfoy), but blaise became a good influence and she learned to mind her own business a bit more.
ron had ALWAYS had a crush on hermione. he just didn’t want to.
neville had a secret girlfriend around year 3-4 and they’d always meet in the herbology greenhouse.
oliver suffers from insomnia which sometimes leads to him being rude during morning practices and even having anger outbursts towards his last hogwarts years.
fred is really really good with kids while george just doesn’t really know what to do with them.
cedric has dyslexia and really finds it difficult and discouraging to read and study. cho and harry are one of the few who know and help him with homework.
luna randomly takes walks in the forbidden forest. she finds it peaceful.
mattheo is naturally really smart. he never studies and always gets good grades. he’s kind of a dick about it.
seamus has ADHD and had a mild ODD as a child
cho is extremely interested in politics and even founded a secret debate club at hogwarts.
dean is the only one who knows about seamus’ breakdowns and the only one who truly knows how to help him.
angelina is really popular. there is nothing to hate about her. she is beautiful and kind and especially good at quidditch.
krum was really bummed out to leave hogwarts. he was actually liking it there. mainly the people. mainly hermione. just hermione tbh.
spending summer ‘94 with hermione was ginny’s gay awakening confirmation.
꩜ i siriusly love you <3
꩜ hp tags: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @marvelismylifffe @hi-there-x @koreandrama-crazyyyy @df841 @hanniejji @streetghostfighter07 @agustdpeach @littlebrownngirl @emcchi @siriuslysirius1107 @wwhitewwolff @underthelee @florenceivy @guidetothesuperlame @littlebirdgot @koreandrama-crazyyyy @rororo06 plz tell me if you’d like to be added or removed!! you can ask for a specific fandom or character or my whole blog <333
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only-angel-28 · 7 months
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mastermind, part four
ok ok ok here's part four i dont rly have much to say here bc i said everything on part three but i hope you like this one and dw guys im gonna try publish part five asap im starting writing it tonight, productive era fr 🙌💯
warnings: slight angst, swearing, injury, protective theo😋😋
mastermind, masterlist
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y/n’s pov
“Hello Y/N.”
I look up from my place on the grass where I was tying my shoes.
Oh. Him again.
“Hi, Cormac.” I say with a tight-lipped smile, standing up, and walking over to where I left my broom when I was practising.
Cormac follows me like a lost puppy and says, “So uhm how’ve you been?”
It’s been almost four months of this. He comes over to wherever I am and follows me asking pointless questions about the weather or lessons and it would’ve been fine if he wasn’t making uncomfortable inappropriate jokes in between. It’s December now, nearly time for the Yule Ball and I need to shake Cormac off my tail sometime soon or I'll have no hope of finding a date this year.
“Just fine Cormac, what about you?” I say mindlessly, trying to devise ideas to get him away politely.
“I’m good…would be better with you in my bed though…” he says, smoking at me as I give him a disgusted look and stop walking.
Forget trying to be nice, this guy’s a creep.
“Okay Cormac, let's settle this. What’s all this really about? I mean you’ve been following- no practically stalking me for months now, and if it wasn’t creepy enough without the inappropriate jokes, it sure as hell is now. So what do you actually like me or just want to get in my pants?” I say angrily at him, clutching my broom in my hands so hard, my knuckles turn white.
He looks started by my outburst at first but quickly replies and says, “Uhm no, no! Of course I like you Y/N, I just wanted to know if you had a date for the Yule Ball yet?” with the furrows of my brows he leans forward and speaks lowly to me in a more threatening tone, “Sure would be a shame if the whole school found out the truth about your favourite uncle.”
Sirius? What the fuck?
I push him away, “Get the fuck away from me you freak!” I go to leave before he grabs me by my wrist and speaks again, “Come to the ball with me and I won’t say a word about him to anyone,”
“Cormac let go of me,” I say, struggling in his tightening grip.
“Just say yes. Say yes and I’ll let go and no one will have to hear about your uncle.”
“Get away from me!” I shout at him, stomp on his foot and punch his nose the hardest I could, feeling his bones crunching beneath mine. Or maybe it was both our bones.
I hold my now numb hand and leave him on the empty field holding his bloody nose and groaning while I run straight to the castle.
I run aimlessly for about three minutes, turning every which way not expecting anyone to be out in the hallways at this time, “Everyone would be in lessons right now” I think before, to my surprise, I turn the corner and I’m face to face with Theo.
He takes hold of me from my arms before I collapse into him and looks at me in surprise with a cigarette in between his soft pink lips.
I mumble out a quick ‘Sorry’ and move to leave, maybe go back to my common room to look for Hermione but he stops me before I can go anywhere.
His alarmed eyes and lifted brows look down at the tears on my face and the redness around my wrist and knuckles. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, discarding it on the floor before putting it out with his shoe, takes me gently by the other hand and leads me to the hospital wing.
“Theo, no, I’m fine don’t worry.” I try and reassure him, “I don’t need Madam Pomfrey all over me right now, a potion from Hermione can fix me right up, I promise.”
He ignores me and takes me to an empty bed, telling me to rest my hand and sit still, before moving away to find Madam Pomfrey.
When shes checked me over and given me the right medications, he stares down at me but doesn't say a word until I ask, “What?”.
His reply is cold and quiet, “Who did this to you?”
I try brushing the question off, “Don’t worry about it Theo, I handled it fine.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” he says, looking down at my bandaged hand, and asks again, “Who did this to you Y/N?”
I sigh before answering, “You promise you won’t do anything illegal?”
“I promise.” he says and I extend my pinky on my good hand towards him. His hard expression softens slightly before he extends his and joins our pinkies together muttering another ‘promise’.
“Cormac. He got mad at me because I didn’t want to go to the ball with him and threatened to tell everyone some things about my family.” I say quietly, looking down.
theo’s pov
I don’t say anything as blood rushes to my head, my knuckles already forming into fists, my jaw clenching and my feet turning around to go find the prick.
“No Theo!’ Y/N says after me, trying to grab my arm and stop me from beating the rat up but I hold her hand as gently as I can and ask her to “Please rest Y/N, I’ll be back soon and I promise I won’t do anything too bad.”
“No Theo, please just drop it, it’s fine.” she tries to reassure me.
“What? No it’s not, first of all, he shouldn’t have touched you in the first place, but to hold you like that and threaten you? He’s begging for it now.” I turn to leave again, trying to find him somewhere in this massive castle, trying to calm down before I remember the look on Y/N’s face and all the anger comes rushing back like an extreme storm wave. Fuck this.
I walk around the castle quickly, keeping my eyes and ears open for any signs of the snake until I catch something near the bushes.
“No man, bitch fucked me right over. Broke my nose and everything. But I mean to be fair I do like them feisty if you know what I mean.” I hear his voice like venom before he laughs with his friends.
Before I know it, I’m being pulled away by Mattheo and Draco as Cormac’s friends grab him by his bloody torn shirt. Splatters of his blood are on mine but nowhere near as bad as his.
I had stayed quiet during the whole fight, speaking only with my punches and getting my message across.
A huge crowd has gathered by this point and I’m being assisted to McGonagall’s office by Mattheo and Draco patting me on the back with the teacher in front of us. I know I’ll get detention for a month, maybe two, and probably won’t be able to play Quidditch for a few weeks either but who cares.
It was for her and I don’t regret a fucking thing.
y/n’s pov
I walk down the great dining hall with everyone's eyes on me, whispering things to people around them. More than usual.
I take my usual seat next to Ginny and Hermione and look around at everyone, asking, “What’s going on?”. Ron, Harry and Hermione look at each other awkwardly before Hermione speaks up, “You don’t know what’s happened?”
“No?”
“That boyfriend of yours beat McLaggen up so bad he’s had to go to St. Mungo’s,” Ron speaks up against the silence and my blood turns cold as my stomach flips over.
“What?!” I say, alarmed.
“Yeah mate, everyone saw it… he was ruthless. Didn’t stop until the bloke couldn’t stand up by himself” Harry agrees with Ron as they turn to look at the Slytherin table behind and see Theo talking normally with his friends.
“He deserved it to be fair, I don’t blame Nott for beating him up the way he did.” Hermione says before asking about my hand.
“It’s all fine now, nothing major just a few broken bones.” I say turning my wrist and flexing my fingers before turning to Ron and answering his previous accusation, “And he’s not my boyfriend Ron, he’s just a friend.”
“Yeah well Harry and Cho Chang are friends but you don’t see him going around beating Cedric up.” Ron says stupidly, making Ginny tense up and Hermione glare at him from across the table as I take Ginny’s hand under it.
“Hey Hermione do you have a spare paper and quill?” I ask after we’ve all eaten our dinner and most of the people in the dining hall have cleared off.
“Yes of course, what for?” she asks, pulling a blank piece of paper and quill out of her bag and passing it to me. “I need to send a note.” I say vaguely before scribbling down:
meet me in the astrology tower after curfew.
I pull my wand out of my pocket and perform the paper bird charm, passing the note to Theo on the other side of the hall.
We all watch as he receives it, reads it and looks up at me, and winks. He asks Pansy for a quill and writes back:
See you there darling
I smile, putting the note into my pocket as Hermione squeals at me, Harry smiles and Ron makes a face of throwing up. “And that Ronald, is why you still don’t have a date to the Yule Ball. Speaking of which Harry do you have yours yet?” 
“Yep, I do actually.”
“Oh yeah? Who is it?” Ron asks looking over at Harry. Hermione and I give each other a knowing look as Harry says, “Uhm, I’m not at liberty to say.”
Harry gets up to leave to escape the conversation as Hermione and I laugh after him and Ron trailing not too far behind, pestering Harry and threatening him if it's his sister.
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“Hey” I hear a soft deep voice behind me as I stare up at the stars from the tower.
I turn around and find Theo wearing a deep red jumper and red plaid pyjamas, holding two cups of hot chocolate coincidently matching with my red plaid shorts and red jumper with my initial on it, courtesy of Mrs Weasley of course.
We smile at each other as he comes close and asks how my hand is, “All better, see” I flex my hand once again to prove it to him and we sit in silence for a few minutes drinking the hot chocolate he’d gotten from the kitchen.
“So,” he starts slowly sipping his hot chocolate and looking over at me in the dim light, “What did you want to talk about?”
I take a breath before answering, “Why did you do that?”
His eyebrows furrow, “Do what?”
I give him a knowing look and he looks away with a smile in response which drops quickly when thoughts of Cormac come back in his mind. “Guy’s a git. Doesn’t deserve you.” He says plainly bringing the cup to his lips again. I look at him for a minute, observing his long eyelashes and soft skin and look away just when he looks at me.
“Have you got a date to the ball yet?” He says in the comfortable silence.
I look back at him getting lost for a moment in his soft blue eyes. I shake my head in response.
He nods, looking down before downing the rest of his hot chocolate and standing up.
He reaches out a hand towards me and pulls me up from my place on the stairs and says, “Would you go with me if I asked?”
I look up at his eyes once again, seeing a hint of fear behind the blue, “If you asked dickhead.”
He laughs at this, nods and kisses me on the cheek before leaving.
“See you later star.”
“Star?” I say in question, my cheeks burning from his touch.
He doesn’t say a word or turn around, but simply holds out his middle finger, flipping me off which confuses me more until I see the silver ring I made him resting at the bottom of it.
I smile to myself as he walks away, leaving my face flushed and heart swollen.
What am I getting myself into.
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part four done, lmk what you think!!
taglist: @timmytime17 @cherry-hoe @jetblackpayne @ash-tarte @coolestgirlhere
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iwantedtoforgetyou · 8 months
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Bathroom, Fred Weasley
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Relationship: Fred Weasley x fem!reader
Word Count: short lol
Summary: You and Fred are stuck in the bathroom.
Notes: Thinking of writing an actual fan fiction about Fred Weasley, so let me know what you think!
Fred positioned himself discreetly in the bathroom, the muffled quarrels of Ginny and Ron seeping through the closed door, saturating the confined area.
The absurdity of the situation overwhelmed you. Here you were, trapped in the sole bathroom of the Burrow, alongside Fred Weasley.
With a heavy sigh, you lowered your head onto your lap, unintentionally causing the toilet to emit a faint creak. A suppressed chuckle escaped Fred's lips, followed by the distant sound of approaching footsteps.
Gradually, his feet materialized within your field of vision, followed by his upper torso. He knelt down in front of you, placing his hands on either side of your thighs.
"If we're destined to be stuck here, might as well make the most of it," he remarked, his words carrying a world of implications that required no further explanation.
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restandbloom · 9 months
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Happiest of Birthdays to my favorite ginger, quidditch playing, baddass witch/woman/mother
✨🍻🌻🍰🌞✨
📸 credit @ harryjamespotter (of course)
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For my birthday weekend (this weekend) we’re doing an hp marathon and eating all the yummy wizarding world treats. Honestly, what more could a girl ask for ✨
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crvptidgf · 27 days
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Bad Blood • pt. II
Mattheo Riddle x Reader
➸ summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, you find it difficult to let go of the past. Your trauma lies deeper than you think. When when you meet somebody who understands your pain, your journey of self-discovery and healing begins to set sail. For once, everything in your life seems to click.
➸ warnings/notes: reader is of romanian descent, afab! reader, mentions of trauma, descriptions of death and traumatic events, profanity, friends to lovers trope, hurt/comfort, eventual smut (18+), trauma bonding, eventual mutual pining, mentions of the golden trio being dicks for the sake of the story
word count: 1.9k
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THE DAY AFTER the choosing ceremony was a little anticlimactic.
It was our first day of classes, and everybody had gotten sorted into their designated houses last night. We of course already knew where we would be put - the ceremony was more of an introduction into first year than anything. It was customary to put on the sorting hat - kind of like a rite of passage, or an initiation.
We had done it in secondary school and we had done it again while moving onto our next phase in life. The next phase - which I had no idea what held in store for me.
At the beginning of summer we had chosen our preferred subjects, classes which we would be studying in detail as opposed to the general knowledge that we had learned the years prior.
My first of the day was potions; obviously.
Since the majority - or more like all - of my friends were in Gryffindor, I left the Slytherin common room alone. Walking past them in the Great Hall, I bid them a good morning before finding a seat at my appointed table.
We were never allowed to stray from our house tables at breakfast - that was only reserved for lunch. A rule which was quite silly, I admit, but it was what we had to live by.
"It's a pity that you can't sit with your friends," came Enzo's voice, his body sliding next to mine on the bench. I shrugged casually before digging into the plates before me.
"It's alright - I survived the last 3 years of school, how different can college be?"
His eyes held a certain sadness in them before he cleared his throat. I was glad to be talking to him again.
"Well you can always sit with me."
I thanked him as I shoved a piece of bacon in my mouth, muffling my gratitude. As much as I hated to admit it, I was really appreciative of him. It felt great to have someone to sit with.
"Oh yeah, such a shame that you can't sit with those gits," said Theo. I almost didn't even notice him and Mattheo arriving. They sat in front of me, ignoring Enzo's glare at Theo's words.
I had no problem dealing with assholes who thought they were better than everyone. After all, Harry and I had our fair share of arguments with Draco Malfoy. He had calmed down immensely, but before the war he was a handful.
Theo needed less of an ego. Well, what's one more prideful Slytherin to kick down a notch?
"Leave off, Nott," said Enzo.
I simply ignored him as I dug into my breakfast. That day I made the note that Hogwarts University breakfasts were a God send. I was almost completely full after not even half of the plate.
It was nice to talk to other Slytherins. It was nice to not be judged simply by the name of my house - and it was nice to not have to sit alone for once.
Although Theo was a bit judgmental of my friends, he was nice to talk to. It didn't last long, though. He began to complain about the Golden Trio - saying that they were too pretentious and up their own ass.
"Those are my friends you're talking about," I said. I tried to not let him get to me, but with each word that exited his foul mouth, my blood boiled one degree higher.
Theo just rolled his eyes as he continued eating.
Mattheo's gaze met mine over the table.
"What class do you have first?" he asked. I was glad for the change in topic, so I shook my hands out under the table to get rid of my tension. I sighed as I responded.
"Potions. Why?"
"Me too. I'll walk with you," he said as he grabbed his bag off the floor and stood up. We still had a few minutes left of breakfast, but since I was already finished eating, I agreed. And anyway, I didn't want to be around Nott any longer than I had to be.
Leaving the hall, I breathed a sigh of relief, not even realizing that I was holding it in.
"Sorry about him," said Mattheo. "He's kind of a dick sometimes."
I scoffed.
"Yeah that's one way of putting it."
Mattheo stopped walking as he stood to face me. His hands were in the pockets of his blazer, letting his bag hand loosely off his left shoulder.
"He can be like that sometimes, but he's really nice once you get to know him."
I made a noise of disbelief as I crossed my arms over my chest. How good of a friend could a house supremacist be? Did he learn nothing from the years of war that raged on in the wizarding world? Did he not understand that the only way we even won was by working together and getting rid of the notion of blood superiority altogether?
Merlin, had he not heard the story of what happened to Enzo's parents?
"Don't think he'll be happy to know I'm a half-blood, I assume."
Mattheo's eyes squeezed shut as he bowed his head down. He huffed as he ran a hand down his face.
"God, he's not a blood supremacist. He just has too much pride in himself."
I nodded.
"That much I figured," I muttered as I began to walk again. Mattheo seemed nice, I just didn't want to hear him justify his friend's actions. I didn't care if he was nice. All I cared about was that he was talking down on my friends. People who took me in when I had nobody.
Mattheo sped up a bit, jogging to catch up to me. His shoulder brushed mine as we trekked along the hallways, looking into classrooms to find the correct one.
"And for the record - I like your friends. Never really spoken to them, but Harry does seem nice," he said, breaking the silence.
"He is," I stated simply before stopping in front of the potions room.
It was down in the dungeons, the dark stone walls letting little heat enter in that particular section of the castle. It didn't help that it was underwater, either. My hands rubbed up and down my arms, my robe providing little warmth against the gusts of subtle wind.
Mattheo leaned against the wall beside the door, studying me.
My arms were still tightened across my chest, and my eyes avoided contact with his. Something about being alone with him felt different. Last night I had no issue looking directly at him, but in the silence of the dungeons, I felt more intimidated.
"I get it. You're protective of your friends, but they're not exactly saints either."
My eyes hesitantly lifted up, meeting his brown irises. What was that supposed to mean?
"How would you know?"
He sighed, looking down at his feet. "Let's just get inside. Class is about to start."
I was about to object, but as I saw more and more students marching across the hallways, I decided he was right. As if on cue, the bell rang to signify the start of lectures. I guess I'd have to pry him for answers at a later time.
I sighed as I sat down at a random desk, only to be surprised when Mattheo bumped against me. He adjusted himself on the stool as he dropped his bag down.
"You don't mind, right?"
Truthfully, I was a bit happy he sat next to me. It would be nice to have a friend as my partner. A lot of the class was full of Slytherins - and as I stated before, I didn't have many Slytherin friends.
"As long as you don't make me fail the class."
His face broke out into a smile as he sucked his teeth. He looked forward to the front of the class.
"I'm amazing at potions."
I felt doubt rise in my chest. I gave him a skeptical 'mhm', telling him that I'll believe it when I see it. He clearly took it as a challenge. The emotion behind his eyes changed as he stared me down, smirking.
My nerves grew as he continued to look at me even when Professor Snape entered the classroom, only breaking the eye contact when he began the roll call.
My heart thrummed against my ribcage. In the small amount of space that we had at our desk, our knees were brushing against each other. I would move away, but every few seconds I'd forget and my knee would bump against his again.
All I got in response was a bump back. We were practically playing footsie under the table, but with our knees.
Snape began to do theory and we opened our books to the first chapter. It was revision of the most common potion ingredients, including the basics - Wolfsbane, African Sea Salt, Bat Wings, and Asphodel. This was what I was good at. Amazing even. What I didn't expect was for Mattheo to be just as good.
"What can act as an antidote for most poisons, with the exception of Basilisk venom," came Snape's monotonous voice.
My hand sprung up in the air, but Mattheo beat me to it.
"Yes, Mr.Riddle?"
"Bezoar."
'Suck up,' I thought. It was slightly hypocritical of me to think that, but my pride got the best of me. Especially when people were just as good at something as I was.
"Correct. 10 points to Slytherin."
I huffed in annoyance as my hand went back down, continuing to take down notes. I felt a nudge next to me only to see a piece of paper slide towards me.
'What's the problem? Mad that I'm better than you?'
Rolling my eyes, I shoved the page back to him. I muttered under my breath at him.
"As if."
I could hear him chuckle from beside me as he crumpled the parchment up. His quill flickered around as he wrote notes down, a small smile still etched onto his face.
"What is a common ingredient used in a Wiggenweld Potion?"
I had heard the question, but upon seeing Mattheo's hand raise up yet again, my eyes drifted to him. My eyes narrowed and I sent him a nasty look as I waited for Snape to call on him.
However, Snape called my name instead upon seeing me glare at Mattheo. My faze flickered away from him to look at the Professor. Ignoring the smug look on my potion partner's face, I responded.
"Billywing Sting Slime."
"...Correct. But next time, I'd appreciate you paying attention."
Mattheo snickered from beside me and I kicked his leg under the table, shutting him up immediately.
This was going to be a long year.
After finishing the double Potions lesson, Mattheo and I left Snape's classroom. He would not shut up about the fact that his potions knowledge was as good as mine. He bragged and bragged until I finally had enough. Pulling out my potions book, I hit his shoulder with it.
"Mattheo will you shut up!" I exclaimed. While my voice was angry, I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face.
His hand came to pinch at my cheeks.
"So cute when you're mad," he said. It's as if he knew it would annoy me more. My cheeks tinted pink as I looked away quickly.
"Why did I even let you sit next to me?" I asked rhetorically, huffing as I sped my pace up.
Mattheo's feet quickened to catch up to me. His arm came to rest around my shoulders, his other hand coming up to mess with my hair. Through my ruffled strands I could make out Hermione and Ron, walking hand in hand.
They stopped in front of me, watching the scene unfold.
Shit. This could not end well.
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gryfferin-gaybies · 1 month
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Healing
(So I read a fic where Harry was the mole and Draco had to heal him after he was discovered and it inspired this. If I could remember what the fic was called I'd tag it but I can't find it for the life of me.)
"Wh-where's Harry," Draco croaked. It was the first thing out of his mouth when he woke up.
"He's busy," Ginny responded vaguely. She and Hermione took turns watching over the makeshift infirmary they'd set up for Draco in their hideout while Ron and Harry and a team of Aurors were out finishing the mission. Ginny had accepted the job reluctantly after being assured repeatedly that Draco wouldn't be waking up any time soon so Hermione could take her shift sleeping.
While she appreciated all that he'd done with this particular mission— going undercover to gain the trust of the criminals in order to find out more about their plans and report back to the Aurors before he was eventually found out and tortured—she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to forgive him for what he stole from her. So she avoided his eyes and conversation as much as she could.
Harry burst in, shoving aside the tarp they'd hung up to block off the infirmary. "I'm here," he said, gaze not even bothering to fall on Ginny as he quickly strode past her. He was covered in dirt and blood, his clothes torn. "I'm here, Draco. I'm right here."
"Harry," Draco sighed.
Harry was at his side in an instant, holding Draco's outstretched hands and leaning in to rest their foreheads together. "I'm here," he whispered again, eyes closed as they embraced each other.
Ginny looked away in time to see Ron pass through the tarp. Her big brother took one look at the scene in front of him and gave Ginny a pitying smile that told her he understood she was hurting and that everything—including herself again eventually—would be fine.
She looked back at them—Harry making sure Draco was comfortable and Draco trying to make sure Harry wasn't hurt from the mission—and for the first time since she and Harry broke up, she realized that they really do make a cute couple.
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weasleyreidstyles · 3 months
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Serendipity
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chapter fourteen
summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.
no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.
pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader
warning(s): slightly suggestive, canonical violence, heavy mentions of blood/injuries, angst with some fluff at the end
series masterlist; previous part; next part
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Hermione Granger was coined the smartest witch of her age for many reasons. Although brave and courageous at heart, she was wise and ambitious to the very marrow of her bones. It's how she noticed your changing affections for Mattheo Riddle, perhaps even before you did.
It started no earlier than October, when you no longer complained about your desk partner in Ancient Runes; when you'd meet up with her after the tutor sessions with bright eyes and a genuine smile, which she had not seen since the weeks leading up to the Department of Mysteries battle last summer. She knew what Riddle was like, but seeing the spark reignite in your soul began to change her perspective of him. Maybe he was inherently good after all.
When Harry told her and Ron what he had discovered about the two of you, she wasn't even a little surprised, but she was surprised that Ginny, too, was not in the least bit affected by the revelation. She watched in forlorn silence as Harry singlehandedly cut you off from them, despite everything you had done for him; everything you'd sacrificed. She had spent many nights berating him in the common room with tears in her eyes.
You were her very first friend at Hogwarts. You'd met on platform nine and three quarters in your first year and exclaimed that you absolutely adored the celebrity on the cover of the magazine she happened to be browsing through. Hermione had thought you were a muggleborn like her and was disappointed when you said you weren't. But she was elated to hear that your mother was just like her. You spent the entire trainride chatting about muggle affairs and your favourite books, and had both gotten up to help Neville find his toad which is how you met Ron and Harry.
You were the person she turned to when Ron first took to being a horrid nuisance to her. You were the person she went to for help finding out about Nicholas Flemmel and the Philosopher's stone. You were the person who wrote double the amount of notes in second year, while she was petrified, just so that she could have knowledge of all the things she'd missed out on in her absence. You were the one to subject yourself to Bellatrix Lestrange's cruciatus curse so that someone could help Harry fight of half a dozen Death Eaters by the arch in the strange room in the Department of Mysteries.
You were her sister and her best friend.
And she felt completely undeserving of all those years of sisterhood as she watched you traipse around the castle like a ghost for days, after the argument with Ron transpired outside the Hospital Wing.
She had slapped him so hard when they'd gotten far enough away from the sounds of your heart wrenching sobs. The sound had echoed so loudly through each of their ears, and she did not care about how Ginny had gasped in shock horror at her action. Or the way Harry flinched as Ron cradled his reddening cheek. It was well and truly deserved.
She did not speak to Harry or Ron for two weeks. Now she only offered vague, one-worded answers to their incessant questions. They acted as if they had done nothing wrong. It infuriated her.
Hermione wanted to find you and apologise profusely. As did Ginny. But each time they got the nerve to find you, you were surrounded by a guard of snakes. The Slytherin boys were extremely protective of you and it seemed that Mattheo no longer cared for secrecy; openly showing that you were his for all the world to see, though subtly enough that only those with keen eyes saw. Hermione saw.
You looked happier with them than you had ever been with any of your old friends. Hermione often wondered if you were meant to find them; wondered if she, Ron and Harry had been holding you back from your true potential.
She admired you. She loved you. She had to make this right.
She cornered you after an Ancient Runes lesson. A ballsy move, considering Mattheo, Theo and Pansy formed a protective wall of imposing doom behind you, like fallen angels promising retribution. She steeled her gaze, looked between all three of them, shot the true intentions of why she was doing this to their minds – she knew they were digging through her thoughts by the pin pricks in the back of her head. But not from you, never from you, although she would never hate you if you did.
"What do you want, Granger?" It's Pansy who speaks up first, her voice dark and promising unspeakable terror, if Hermione so much as said one thing out of line. She watches as you reach for the hand that softly brushes against your own and grip it with all your might; Mattheo's hand.
"I wanted to speak to you." she says directly to you. "Alone, if possible."
She can see the way Mattheo is about to rebute this.
"If not that's completely fine." its rushed and laced with desperation and you can see the emotions clouding your ex-best friend's face. The guilt and the longing. You want to hear her out.
You squeeze Mattheo's hand once before letting go and speaking to them all, without opening your mouth.
I want to hear what she has to say. You guys go ahead, I'll find you later.
Pansy's look of uncertainty is remedied by your insistence that you'd be fine, and Theo is a little reluctant but follows behind her. Mattheo is a silent and imposing statue of simmering rage at your side. And by the uncomfortable look on Hermione's face, you know he's in her head.
If she comes back crying, believe me when I say that you will regret it Granger. And if this is a farce to satisfy Potter's cruelty, he will pay for it too.
"Harry doesn't know I'm here. Neither does Ron. Ginny should be outside, she wants to talk too. I-if that's alright?"
"It's fine." your voice is softer than she's ever heard. Like you're wholly unsure if you can trust her word. It's a foreign and devastating feeling. And she hates it.
Mattheo's hand brushes your's before he reaches up and squeezes your waist affectionately, departing after Theo and Pansy moments later.
The classroom is blissfully empty. Now it's just you and Hermione, alone. The silence is tense and awkward as you each wait for Ginny to walk through the door.
She arrives moments after Mattheo's departure, steps slow and hesitant. But as she sees the two of you she releases a heavy sigh of relief and launches herself at you.
She's hugging you so tightly. Squeezing and squeezing until your arms, which are limp at your sides, instinctively wrap around her frame. She's mumbling apologies into the neck of your blue and bronze lined robe, body racking with subtle sobs, that you mirror as you melt into her embrace. Hermione joins you both after a moment and the three of you sink to the floor, twin tears streaking down your faces, apologies and words of love and hope echoing off the walls of the classroom.
Eventually the hug ends and the three of you are sat in a small circle between the desks, voices low and quiet as you listen to what the other has to say, all the while, Mattheo is a welcome presence in your mind, offering infinite reassurances as your heart races in your chest.
Hermione tells you how Harry and Ron seem like totally different people now. How she slapped Ron and did not utter a singular word to Harry until he apologised to her.
"Look I'm sorry, alright." he said one evening in the common room as she was researching for an upcoming essay. "Please talk to me, Mione."
"I'm not the one you should be apologising to." she mutters, not taking her eye off the words on the page. Harry scoffs as he sits down. "If you're going to bad mouth my best friend then go and find Ron. I don't want to hear what you have to say."
He rolls his eyes before he stands up and walks away.
Ginny feels terrible. She hadn't known it was you and Mattheo in the corridor until she heard his distinct low and raspy voice, too late. She wasn't quick enough in deterring Harry away from the space and she regrets it immensely. And the look on your face after Ron had shouted at you plays repetitively on her mind at all hours of the day.
Guilt errodes at your souls and all three of you feel the weight of it like you're being held beneath the surface of a very deep lake.
When the two of them finish explaining themselves, you inhale harshly before letting out a calming breathe.
"I can't say that your actions didn't hurt. Because then I'd be lying." you say, voice clouded in emotion. "I have been outcasted by everyone I thought I could call a friend. Even my own housemates don't speak to me. You didn't do anything to stop that, which really hurts."
There's a lump in your throat that continues to strain with every word you utter, eyes burn with the onslaught of more salty tears.
"I know that you don't trust them. And you have every reason not to. I understand that. But they have been here for me, when the two of you weren't. They've shown me what it means to be surrounded by kindness and safety and I love them all equally, no matter what has been said and done in the past. Yes they work for you-know-who. But they had no choice. You know who their families are, hell we fought most of them in June. They've been forced into this and I just want to get them out."
Ginny reaches over to squeeze your hand. You let her.
"I-" she pauses and looks at Hermione, who reaches over for your other hand. "We want to help you. In any way we can. We'll help you appeal to Dumbledore-"
"He already refused my plea for help." you say with a grimace.
Hermione gapes. "B-but he always says that-"
"-Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask." you say at the same time as she does. "Yes he said as much, and then followed with saying that they don't deserve to be helped."
"That's completely unfair." Ginny mutters. "If you were asking for anyone else he'd help in a heartbeat."
Hermione mumbles her agreement, face painted in complete disbelief at your revelation. She always believed that Dumbledore was a good and just man, but maybe she was wrong.
"We'll appeal to the Order." Ginny says. "Tonks' mum was in you-know-who's clutches when she went to the Order for help. And now she's effectively protected for life."
It's a good idea. It may work. But you have your doubts. The current members of the Order held their own prejudices, much like Voldemort's Death Eaters did.
"Tell your friends about the idea. Tell them that we'll try." Hermione says earnestly. "Nothing will ever justify our behaviour towards you, but let us make it right. Please. It's the least we can do for how badly we treated you."
What are they saying right now? Mattheo asks you, voice painted with curiousity.
They're going to help me keep you all safe.
And how, pray tell, will they achieve that? Mattheo sounds like he adamantly does not believe your words.
They have a way but I'm honestly not getting my hopes up until its more of a solid plan.
Okay, I trust you. How do you feel, love? His voice is a soft caress to all the corners of your mind. It's like he can feel the anxiety rolling off of you in waves.
I've got mixed feelings. I want to believe that they truely do mean what they're saying, but actions speak louder than words.
Even though you say that, Mattheo already knows that you'll forgive them. He may not agree with it because, in his opinion, they do not deserve your forgiveness, but he understands that you'd been akin to sisters for years before his family welcomed you into their circle with open arms. Of course you'd forgive them eventually; it doesn't mean that any of your found family would, though.
Hermione and Ginny watch as your eyes glaze over. It's obvious that you're talking mind to mind with Mattheo by the way your face heats with a blush and your face is alight with a soft, yet dazzling smile.
The three of you had once gossiped, in the cosy confines of the younger girl's bedroom, that Ginny's oldest twin brother was the perfect guy for you, but judging by your expression, they knew it then and there......Mattheo Riddle was your soulmate and you were completely and irrevocably in love with him.
An hour later, the three of you were sat under the shade of a willow tree that overlooked one of the beaches separating the Black Lake from the main courtyard.
It was as if there was never a blip in your friendship. Like old times. It felt normal. But there was an underlying feeling that everything was different at the same time. And the three of you had wordlessly accepted that fact.
"He needs to get rid of that stupid book." Hermione mutters dismally as you watch Harry and Ron stroll by, not sparing any of you a glance as they stare down at the battered Potions book in the former's hand.
"Still jealous that he's gotten better at potions than you? You're not top of the class anymore." You tease and she throws you a playful glare.
"Nevermind that. It's insidious." she says. "Just the other day he was asking if I'd heard of some kind of spell that was, quote on quote: 'for enemies'. It's completely ridiculous."
"I can't say that I disagree with you Mione." Ginny says grimly. "I overheard him telling Ron that he really wanted to test it out."
She shivers as if a blanket of cold was just thrust upon her. You're left bewildered. Harry seemed like a wholly different person and you didn't know what to make of it.
~∞~
A week later, you'd come to terms with the new state of your friendship with Hermione and Ginny; your Slytherin friends were weary at first when you told them of their plan to involve the Order, but it was Theo and Blaise who agreed tentatively to hear them out.
You tried to build a bridge between your two opposing groups, and it worked somewhat: Hermione had bonded well with Theo and Ginny found a kinship in Pansy's fierce spirit as well as Enzo's witty humour. Even Luna, who had accompanied Ginny one day to see you, had found solace in Blaise's quiet and calm nature.
Draco was the most alert by your insistence of them all speaking – he was weary that Hermione did not like nor trust him and she was uneasy around the boy who had called her unsavoury names for years. But even Hermione could see how worn down and tired Draco looked, and cut him some slack.
After another drooling day of school, you were lying in Mattheo's bed, clad in nothing but one of his dark tshirts as you lied against his chest, breathing in his alluring scent of cedar, musk and smoke. After completing your homework together, the two of you had nothing better to do than laze about, sharing languid kisses and slow, soft sex.
You were talking quietly to one another, sweet giggles and deep chuckles passing between you as you bathed in the serenity of each others' presence. Mattheo's hand was tracing circles against the back of your thighs, causing you to shift away with a breathy laugh.
"That tickles. Stop it." you say, mirth shining in your eyes as you playfully glare at him as his fingers dance across your soft, sensitive skin.
"Or what?" he challenges with a smirk that has you sitting up against his stomach, the ridges of his abs brushing sensually against your aching core.
Safe to say, your clothes ended up on the floor once more and the room was once again filled with your combined sensual moans and whines.
Later, you're cuddled against him again, tired and spent as you allow sleep to overtake you. But it never comes. Enzo and Ginny burst through the door in a panicked flurry.
"Ever heard of knocking, Berkshire?" Mattheo snaps, but at the look of alarm painting his friend's face, he sits up in rapt attention.
"What is it, Enzo?" he asks, using one hand to pull the duvet over your bodies to shield you from their averting gazes.
"It's Harry and- and Malfoy." Ginny says, breathlessly as if they'd run here. "They're dueling in one of the second floor bathrooms."
That statement has the two of you scrambling for your clothes as Enzo and Ginny leave to wait outside the door.
Uniforms shoved back on in a hurry, rumpled and creased from your earlier activities, the two of you follow behind the panicking pair as they lead you to Moaning Myrtle's floor. You hear the duel before you see it. Draco and Harry are throwing insults and curses back and forth in rapid fire blows. You would be mesmerised by the feeling of all the power that sings to you, if you weren't so worried and horror stricken at what you'd stumbled into.
Upon entering the scene you can't help but gape at the destruction. The porcelain sinks lining the marbled walls are cracked and broken, crumbling to the floor; pipes bursting with a never ending onslaught of spraying water that washes across the floor like tempered glass.
Your arrival distracts Draco momentarily as he turns towards the four of you, weariness clouding his light grey eyes. It's all the time he needs for Harry to surprise all of you with his menacing words as he casts the final spell, signifying the end of the harrowing duel.
"Sectum-sempra!" he shouts and Draco releases a pained yelp before falling to the floor as Ginny gasps in horror. Blood soaks the water around him, spreading out like slick oil against it as he writhes in pain. Slashes of blood saturate his white shirt, as if a knife had been hacked against his skin.
The room is a flurry of activity as Ginny starts shouting at Harry as Enzo and Mattheo pull out their wands defensively. But you pay them no mind, immediately going to Draco's side, trying your best to comfort him as you rip open his shirt to see the damage that Harry had caused.
His torso is caked in blood, gashes of skin torn open by the force of the spell. He's lying in a pool of it, the volume increasing with each passing second. Draco was dying. Slowly and painfully.
Moaning Myrtle appeared from the pipes screaming "MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!" repeatedly as you worked tirelessly, which was not helping the onslaught of overwhelming emotions that were bubbling to the surface.
It's okay. You're okay. You need to stay awake Draco. Please stay awake. You reassure him as you mumble a series of spells. He begins writhing more.
Episkey doesn't work.
Ferula fails to expell bandages large enough to cover the gaping holes in his chest.
Basic wound sealing spells are cast in vain.
You have tried everything you can think of. But nothing is working. Tears of frustration begin to slide down your cheeks.
"What's taking you so long?" Enzo shouts at you, drawing your attention away from Draco. Your breathing is panicked and uncertain and Mattheo tilts his head towards Enzo, a silent threat to watch his tone as he sees the slick flow of tears running down your face.
"I don't- nothing is working." you say breathelessly. "I don't know what to do."
Ginny looks horrified. As do Mattheo and Enzo. Harry only looks intrigued, no trace of guilt paints his face. You narrow your eyes at him.
"It's from that book, isn't it?" you accuse and he flinches at your icy tone. "The Half Blood Prince wouldn't be stupid enough to not know a counter curse. What. Is. It?"
He doesn't answer you fast enough for Mattheo's liking. Despite not understanding what you're talking about, he turns to the bespectacled boy with barely contained rage as he points his wand in the direction of the 'Chosen One'.
"Answer her, Potter!" he snarls and Harry snaps his head in Mattheo's direction, shooting him a glare until Ginny screams at him to answer you.
"Vulnera Sanentur." he says reluctantly, as if he was waiting to see how long the effects of the spell he cast would take place. As if he was waiting for Death to sink it's claws into Draco's soul.
Immediately you work on each of the gashes on Draco's torso and they begin to heal over for the most part, but he's still loosing too much blood.
"Someone needs to help me seal his wounds properly. I can't do it by myself." you say desperately and Enzo is immediately at your side, both of you mumbling the spell and casting your wands over the various wounds that litter Draco's pallid skin. Meanwhile Mattheo and Ginny stare at Harry as if he'd grown two heads, sharing a knowing look of understanding that Harry does not miss, nor does he like. He grits his teeth at his enemy and the girl he's infatuated by as Ginny, not so subtly, inches closer to Mattheo's side. Mattheo's eyes soften at the fear coating the younger girl's cerulean eyes.
No sooner than you'd entered the fray, Professor Snape comes gliding into the room, face livid, and pushes you and Enzo away from Draco's still writhing body. He performs the healing charm with practiced ease, going over each jagged cut, that you failed to heal, with graceful precision. If you weren't so overcome with emotion, you would've put the glaringly obvious pieces together.
The flow of blood eased rapidly and the wounds knotted together intricately as he repeated the spell, tenderly wiping away the blood that coated Draco's face. You knelt close to his side, reaching out to stroke his limp hand, which was alarmingly cold to the touch. You and Enzo were both covered in a mixture of blood and water which soaked through your uniforms, sticking to you like a second skin.
No sooner than he'd arrived, Professor Snape had Draco leaning against your side and was talking softly to the boy, who was barely conscious.
"You must go to the Hospital Wing. There may be some scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that. Come...."
With Enzo's help, he supported Draco across the bathroom, turning at the door to say in a voice of cold fury, "And you, Potter – You will wait here for me."
Harry, at least, had the gall to look ashamed.
You're still kneeling on the floor, staring at your blood soaked hands when Mattheo appears in front of you, taking your hands in his, paying no mind to the blood soaking through his trousers.
"You did good, darling." he says softly, so only you can hear, neither pay attention to how Ginny inches closer to you two, away from Harry's wide eyes. "So good."
"If Snape didn't turn up–" you don't want to finish the sentence, don't even want to think about what could've happened.
"If he didn't end up coming, you and Enzo would have worked tirelessly to seal Draco's wounds to the best of your abilities." he reassures you, having read the emotions as clear as day on your face. "Come on, let's go and get you cleaned up, yeah?"
You allow him to pull you to your feet and you're only reminded of his presence when Harry scoffs.
"Got something to say, Potter?" he snarls as his hand rests against the small of your back, at Harry who glares at Mattheo obstinately.
"He cursed Katie Bell. We all know it. He deserved what he had coming for him. I can't believe she willingly helped him after everything he's done to us. After everything you have done."
He spoke as if you were not standing right in front of him. You barely recognise the boy who you called your best friend for nearly six years. Harry had barely finished his sentence when Mattheo had left your side and launched at him, throwing punches and blows in Harry's face. That's not to say that Harry did not return the favour. Both boys' blood mingled with the softening pink whorls in the water. You and Ginny were screaming at them to stop; they did not acknowledge your pleas. The last time they fought like this was over a year ago.
The conduit around your neck crackles with energy and you fight the urge to break it. Instead you wrap a fist around it almost instinctively and draw out power that surges through the room, separating the two from eachother with little to no effort. They're both panting and glaring at eachother as they fight against the restraint of your power.
"That's enough." you say firmly, voice loud and commanding in the silence, wholly different to its usual cadence. Ginny is staring at you in awe, as Mattheo stares with pride. Harry looks at you with uncontainable fury and fear.
Because you're glowing.
There's a faint indigo aura surrounding your body that pulses with energy as you hold the two boys away from eachother. When Mattheo stops fighting you, you let go of the hold and watch as they slump in their spots on opposite sides of the room, both sporting matching wounds of split lips and bruised eyes.
"What the fuck are you?" Harry mumbles to himself, just as Snape returns to the bathroom. The professor looks at you in barely restrained approval before instructing you, Mattheo and Ginny out of the room. You each go without hesitation, leaving Harry at the mercy of a furious Snape.
~∞~
Parting ways with Ginny at the intersection between your two common rooms, Mattheo lets you guide him towards the Ravenclaw tower, which was closer to the dungeons that were on the opposite side of the castle to where you currently were.
He follows you silently, staring at you as if he can still see the faint glow of the indigo aura that surrounded you. He didn't think you could get any more ethereal. You prove him wrong every single day.
"Do you think Draco will be okay?" you ask quietly as you reach the polished bronze Knocker that conceals the entrance to your estranged common room.
"He's strong. I know he'll be okay." Mattheo reassures you, but he chooses not to tell you that Draco's fate will be far worse if he fails to fix the wardrobe that they'd been working on for the better part of half a year. All their fates would be far worse.
You breath out a relieved sigh in response, just in time for the Eagle to blink preternaturally at the two of you. You laugh softly as Mattheo shivers at the utter human-ness of the brass eagle.
'I can break. I can be clogged. I can be attacked. I can be given. I can be kept. I can be crushed, yet I can be whole at the same time. What am I?'
It only takes you a moment to figure out the riddle and Mattheo sees the exact second that the answer fills your head, even as his stays blank with confusion.
"A heart." You say and he swears that the eagle winks as the door swings open, paving way for the sea of eyes that stare at the two of you in horror.
You realise then that your still covered, practically head to toe, in Draco's blood, skirt and knee high white socks soaked through from the water, stained a light pink. Shaking yourself out of your haze, you grip Mattheo's hand and drag him towards the staircase leading to the girls' dormitories, ignoring the eyes that are burning holes into your skin as you retreat.
You wandlessly unlock the door that leads into your dorm room and watch as Mattheo stares around in awe.
"I've never been in here before." he says quietly and you turn to him with furrowed brows.
"Yes you have. Haven't you?"
It dawns on you then, that in all the months you'd known him, you had never consciously invited him into your bedroom. It had always been his common room; his dormitory or the Room of Requirement. Never your's.
"No. I haven't." he responds, laughing at the surprise that appears on your face as he casts his surveying eyes around your room. "It's very you."
"Thankyou?" you respond questioningly which causes him to laugh more, then wince as the movement of his laughter tugs at the cut that splits his lip.
Eyes full of concern you direct him to your bed and push him down by his broad shoulders to sit, ignoring the way his brows wiggle suggestively while you find a first aid kit to remedy his injuries.
He's still smirking when you return from the bathroom, green box in hand, which you place by his side as he guides you to stand between his parted thighs. The two of you bask in the content silence as you use a damp flannel to wipe away the dried blood that has begun to crust over his soft skin, mumbled apologies escaping your lips whenever he hisses if you accidentally catch one of his cuts with the fabric.
"You could easily wish these away with a bit of magic, you know. It's a thousand times faster." he says, hands caressing the backs of yours thighs as he looks up at you, but he makes no move to stop you or push you away.
"That feels uncaring." you mumble in response as you use a bit of rubbing alcohol against the cut on his lip. "Sorry." you say as he winces.
"It's alright, love." he mumbles, leaning his head into your stomach once you finished. "Potter can really throw a punch."
Your laughter comes out as a scoff. "Maybe. But you should've seen the state you left him in."
He smirks against the damp fabric of your shirt and you swat at his curly head when you practically feel his ego inflating.
"I did give him a good beating, didn't I?"
"You're so vexingly arrogant." you say with a soft laugh that has him leaning out of your stomach to stare at you again, a mischievous glint reflecting in his honey brown eyes.
"It's one of the many attributes of mine that you fell for though, isn't it Princess." he says with so much self assurance that you just have to roll your eyes, but it's difficult to hide your smile.
"Shut up." you reply as his arms reach up to wrap around your middle, bringing you into his embrace, but he cringes away at the feel of your still wet clothes.
"Let's get you out of these yeah? You're practically shivering." he says as he untucks your shirt from your skirt, affection and...and love overtaking his soft eyes as he stares up at you, quietly stripping you of your ruined clothes that he throws into a pile at the foot of your bed.
~∞~
"Thank you, Théo." you say quietly, almost in a whisper, after you're both fresh and clean from a shower, all wounds healed over with a bit of his magic.
"What for?" he asks you, just as softly, hand reaching up to brush a loose wisp of hair that had fallen into your face.
You don't answer him, not verbally at least, instead pressing a slow kiss to his mouth that he happily reciprocates, leaning in until he's hovering over you, trapping your body below his.
For protecting me. For defending me. For giving Ginny stability, despite how you feel towards her. I saw the way she gravitated towards you. Just...thank you. Your words have his mouth working harder against your's, causing a moan to escape you as his tongue licks against the seam of your lips, which part eagerly for him.
Always, sweet girl. I will always defend you and those of your friends who are worthy of defending. He replies before detaching his lips from your's, with retraint.
"Weasley could have easily let Enzo find us himself, could've even encouraged Potter to continue their duel. But she didn't; she watched a boy almost die, watched her friend heal the same boy who terrorised you all for years. She could've easily gone to Harry's defence, but she didn't. She looked to us for direction. Not him. That says a lot." he said aloud with a sigh, strands of his curly hair falling over his forehead, causing his eyes to twitch in irritation.
You used the tips of your fingers to coil the stubborn curls away from his face as he speaks, a new sense of admiration, trust and calm washing over you as you stare at your lover.
"It may take time for me to trust her, Granger too," he continues. "But I see how much she looks up to you, trusts you and vice versa. I can learn to forgive them for their wrongdoings. For you, my love."
"Thank you, Théo." you repeat as you bury your face into his shirtless chest, breathing in his intoxicating scent.
He smiles as he presses a kiss to your temple, unaware that today's events would spiral into something unfathomable that Mattheo Riddle should've seen coming from miles away.
~∞~
did i mention how much i love soft!matty😫😫 (in every chapter since they got together 😵‍💫😵‍💫)
i had to end it with some fluff because i'm sure you can guess what's gonna happen in the next few chapters lol
also thought id let you know that meadow's siphon powers are now fully manifested, she just has to learn how to control it (which we see briefly in this chapter)
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stvrlvghtwrites · 8 days
Text
I love you, don't you?
"Draco! Draco! Will you- you just-" Harry panted, putting his hands on his knees to take a gulp of breath after running after him, "stop."
Draco turned and shoved Harry's shoulder as if to say 'fuck you' which he already had before he had left Harry sitting dumbly at the table. Harry winced but grabbed his arm, "come on, I- please, can we talk?"
Draco tugged out of his reach and stepped away, "we can talk with a little distance between us."
Harry frowned, "I don't want to hurt you, Draco. I really don't. I love the friendship we have but... but Ginny... she doesn't trust you and..." he rubbed his forehead with two of his fingers, "she's completely in the wrong and I disagree with her. I do. I really do. I just don't know how to convince her that you won't hurt me."
Draco pressed his lips into a thin line, a pain beginning to form in his chest. Did he really call what they have a friendship? Draco was sure they were more than that with the way Harry slept with his head in his lap sometimes or carded his finger through his blond hair or... kissed his cheek in greeting, teasing him relentlessly whenever his face turned red. It wasn't just friendship, he knew it. He could feel it, with the lingering touches and the stolen glances and the shy smiles they shared. He hadn't seen that between Harry and Ginny. Not since the war.
Harry looked at him with worry in his green eyes, silently pleading him to say something. He probably didn't even see the blatant hurt and jealousy on Draco's face or even realised that there was something so special between them. Oblivious git, Draco rolled his eyes.
It was only a minute before Draco's resolve crumbled, a man could withstand those bedroom eyes for so long. He sighed, "the solution is simple, Harry. We just simply don't talk anymore. Will that please your girlfriend?"
"No!" Harry said, suddenly, straightening his posture a bit, "can't we compromise? I can't not talk to you..." His face was bent in pain and confusion, "you're my friend, Draco. My best friend. I can't lose you."
Draco swallowed, "tell me, Potter. Does Weasley truly love you?"
Harry nodded, "yes. She tells me that all the time." He was lying, Draco knew.
"Then why would she make you choose between her and me? I wouldn't. She's your girlfriend, you love her and would probably marry her and have ginger babies but that won't stop me from being your friend."
Harry looked away, he pressed a hand to his chest in thought as if mulling over what Draco just said. Without another word, Draco left.
Maybe Harry didn't have feelings for Draco, just maybe. But that wasn't possible because he knew him better than anyone, he had spent years looking at him, his face was already an open book and Draco basked in the adoration that Harry kept in his eyes, only for Draco.
He just hoped Harry would sort his mind and decide if Draco was a friend or something even more.
The pain in his chest didn't ebb away like he thought it would. It only grew.
×××××××××××××××××××××××××××
the writing is so raw, i swear. i haven't written drarry in so long, just had a rare burst of inspiration, let me know your thoughts!! xx (part 2???)
love,
v
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pa1nkill3r · 2 months
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Day 2,557 [G.W]
[Pairing:] George Weasley x GN!Reader
[Summary:] A boy comes into the joke shop with his mother; It felt all too weird for the one-eared owner to feel so at ease, something he never felt for the past 7 years.
[Warnings:] angst, sad, major character death (not Fred obv), reincarnation, grief, mourning, swearing
[a/n:] Scrolling through facebook and getting videos of children talking about their past lives really intrigued me. This is my first fic and it might be bad so please don’t bully me, I’m sensitive <3 (jkjk but I am open for constructive criticism!)
[a/n; March 2024] I wrote this draft back in 2021 or 2022 I believe, waiting desperately for the opportunity to finish and post this. That time never came. Now, 2 or 3 years later, I gravely admire my vocabulary, creativity, and passion for writing back then. Honestly speaking, moving schools killed my spark and I am desperate to get it back. For now, I am working on reviving that spark within me by going back to where I started. Even though the HP fandom isn't as active as it used to be, I would still like to share this piece I made because I am so, so proud of my younger self.
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There was something about Y/N wearing white that George loved so much. He always got so giddy and cute which in turn made their eyes roll and mouth grin.
The way Y/N looked sitting at the Great Hall with their white sleeves rolled to their elbows, one hand under their chin and the other twirling a spoon while their eyes dragged along their charms textbook, cramming in as much information as they could for the upcoming test that afternoon. 
Or that time at the Yule Ball when they thought it’d be funny to wear an all white ensemble because: “What?...I wanted to feel like a bride at their wedding.” whilst having the best night with George, their “groom”.
Even small moments like when they would steal a shirt from George’s drawer and wear it to sleep. He loved every single bit of it, even if it cost him many shirts.
He truly never got enough of them wearing white. So seeing them in a casket wearing that same color 7 years ago, looking so peaceful and so… dead. That killed him. That’s the last time he will see them in white; That’s the last time he’s going to see them at all. 
That was the last time he could actually feel their hand rather than just dried oil on linen canvas, framed in oak and hung atop his bed. How he wished their eyes could roll one more time at how stupidly in love their boyfriend is with them, especially in white.
Voldemort’s reign of terror had ended, as well as the lives of many others, and maybe even George. They were a horcrux he never made, his life force created by deep love and affection rather than the hunger for immortality.
It never got easier even after 7 years, he simply just got used to it. 
He got used to the feeling of an empty bed. He got used to gripping onto a cold body pillow instead of a warm figure and a heartbeat with Y/H/C hair disturbing his lips. He got used to counting the days since their death which gravely disturbed Fred, his twin. He got used to waking up everyday and checked off a box from the calendar with an absurd amount of numbers on it. 
Admittedly he is doing better than he did 7 years ago. No more jumping from every small sound and drawing out his wand in the middle of the night. No more vivid dreams of several dead bodies laid across the Great Hall. No more crying himself to sleep. No more missed dinners. No more grieving. 
He’s longed for them longer than he has actually been with them. But his love never faltered. Not once. 
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Day 2,557
It's now exactly 7 years since the Battle of Hogwarts. And in a month it would be the 7th anniversary of his obituary for Y/N on the Daily Prophet, a suggestion made by Percy to try and help his grieving brother. It helped, but not really. 
The small May 2nd, 2005 box wrote “Baby Vic’s Birthday!” in bold red ink. George moved the yellow paper star that stuck gently onto the calendar with paper tape as Fred walked into his room. Envelope in his hands, bread between his teeth, and a beautiful haughty looking owl on his shoulder.
“Fun to finally see you up, Georgie!” Fred greeted sarcastically as George hummed in response. “Bill just sent an owl that little Vicky’s turning 5!"
"That is usually how birthdays work, Freddie." George joked, grabbing his wand and with a flick, his bed is magically fixed. "I'm not a dumbass, you know?" Fred chuckled lightly as he handed George the letter from Bill and Fleur, "They're hosting a party for her at the Burrow at 5."
He took the piece of parchment and flattened it by his desk before pulling it closer to his face, his back mindlessly pinning itself to the wall. 
Dear Fred and George, 
Bill here, As you should know, it's baby Victoire's 5th birthday today and we would really like love to have you two come by the Burrow at 5 pm. 
Vic really misses you both. Uncle George this, Uncle Fred that. She’s going to be like you two one day, I’m tellin’ ya. She loves listening to stories you tell her, especially the ones about Y/N and Tonks. She thinks that they’re the coolest people ever and that she wished she could meet them. I simply told her that one day she would, but it’ll be far far away from now. 
Hope to see you later! Please owl back immediately, Vic’s got Ginny’s temper.
xx Bill
“I’ve already owled them my ‘happy birthday’ letter before Chouette came.” Chouette, the owl cooed at the mention of her name. Slightly shuffling her feathers therefore lightly tickling Fred's neck, making him shiver. The haughty owl flew from Fred's shoulder to George's making the younger twin chuckle. 
"Seems like Chouette is telling you to take a bath, mate." George laughed as the back of Fred's hand flew to his forehead. "I got us crepes and bread for breakfast! And you go on and call me stinky?" Fred exclaimed dramatically. 
"How 'bout you be a dear and write to Bill and Fleur that we are going to Vic's party, alright?" 
"Yeah, yeah, I'll do that." George agreed, taking out a roll of parchment from his desk drawer as well as a quill and a bottle of ink. "While I eat my breakfast and write this, will you be a dear and take a bath!" Fred cackled at his younger brother's statement. Though in a bit the sound of water dropping down the shower head echoed through the small flat above the shop.
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School owls poured in as numerous Hogwarts students wanted to take advantage of the annual “54% off ‘End of War’ sale” at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes held in memory of the fallen 50. Because in Fred and George’s philosophy, “...We might not be able to save them, but they can save our customers over 50% off of all our products!”
It seemed insensitive but it’s the thought that counts. They wanted to make sure that their passing didn’t go to waste, even if it is counted as a discount to the famous Diagon Alley shop. 
Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley were rather busy picking up and shipping out their joke products, sending it to the owls who were perched up in a little area at the back of the store, nibbling on insects Verity; a part of their staff had handed them before sending them back to the school her bosses previously dropped out of. 
It was nearing lunch time when everyone wearing magenta robes stocked up the shelves again, having been sending out owls since 8 in the morning when they heard a clanging from the front doors, signaling that a customer had finally came; A middle aged woman looked starstruck whilst holding onto a young boy that’s slowly getting out of her grip, having the same eagerness as his mother.
It wasn’t unusual for customers to react this way coming into the Weasley’s joke shop. The boy’s eyes sparkled while the mother looked in admiration. The mother crouched down to hold onto her son, keeping him from running while his mouth spilled with words. 
“Mum, we have to get something for Mia!” the boy cried out eagerly, eyes darting towards every single corner of the store. George’s mouth upturned into a sloppy grin whilst listening to the boy. 
“Marty, that’s sweet of you, but we already got the quill she wanted.” The mother said quietly, running her hands over the boy’s shoulders, easing it. “And it’s your birthday...” George didn’t know what came after that as he took the chance and walked towards the small family with a big smile on his face, quickly followed by Fred. 
“Heard it’s a little man’s birthday.” inclined George, hands in his pockets and head down turned. The mother looked up and stood from her spot, giggling slightly as she kept a hold of her son’s shoulders. “What’s your name?” he asked, now being the one to crouch down in front of the boy.
The boy tilted his head to the side, eyes slightly strained. He looked both confused and hyper focused at the same moment. Though weird, George thought nothing of it. After all, he was a kid, the man he’s looking at has one ear, and the hyperfixation was quickly ended by the slight shake of his shoulders. The mother looked down at her son, silently telling him to introduce himself. And so he did. 
"I'm Martin! I turn 6 today!" the boy said enthusiastically,bringing a smile on George's face. Being around Martin felt odd, it felt so unapologetically peaceful and rather… familiar. 
"SIX?!" Fred loudly piped in. "Well now that's big, little man!" 
The mother was slightly startled by the appearance of the ginger's twin, though the same cannot be said about Martin who simply smiled absentmindedly. 
"I knew you before." said Martin, eyes targeting the younger twin. George smiled and kept close to the boy, keeping the conversation going. "Really?" he asked with vivid curiosity, he did not recognise the boy or his mother but fueling a child's imagination wouldn't hurt anyone. 
"How?" piped in Fred, now also crouching beside his twin, "And why just him?" he asked comedically, pointing to his brother. 
"Since we were 11." Answered Martin with no signs of struggle on his face. The red haired owners looked at each other, though more in disbelief than in confusion. 
"Thought you said you were 6, Martin?" George asked with a kind look on his face. The boy’s mother shook her son’s shoulder harder than she did the past few times, mumbling “Marty, what did I tell you?” in tired disbelief.
“M’sorry mum.” Martin said with a pinch of sincerity before turning back to face the bigger man in front of him. “I was 20 before I became 6.” “Marty.”
Chilling, the owners thought. As they were 20 at the time of the battle of Hogwarts. 
“I’m so sorry Mr.--”
“Weasley.” Fred replied as the confusion simmered throughout his twin brother. “S’really nothing to worry about Mrs.--?”
“Edevane. But I truly am sorry, he’s just a very imaginative little kid. Always has stories of his quote-unquote ‘past life’.“ she explained, making the kid become a bit mad. “But mum, it’s true!-”
“Marty, how about we look around the store, alright? Mr. and Mr. Weasley could show us around perhaps?” Mrs. Edevane hinted to the twin owners, relief gracing their legs as they were now able to stand on their feet. 
“Yes, we can certainly do that! Come along Marty, tell us more about this ‘past life’ of yours.” Fred’s arm wrapped around the small boy’s shoulders, showing him around the color filled shop. “Sorry about that Mrs. Edevane.” he added mischievously, “Here at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, we like to encourage creativity and imagination.”
“--As it is the reason we got here.” George finished, giving Mrs. Edevane a kind smile as they start roaming around the shop. “Uhh. Mr. Weasley.” Her fingers tapped onto George’s shoulder. His head whipped around and mouth about to open when suddenly the 6 year old spoke; “Mum, Mr. Weasley’s name is George. This one’s Fred.”
The utter shock that went through the twin wizards was clear as day. No where in the shop did it say the owner’s names. Even their name tags; The little badge pinned on their suits merely wrote ‘Mr. Weasley’. Fred, being the initiator that he is, leaned forward. “Now how can you be so sure, Marty?” he teased, “What if I tell you that you’re wrong?”
Martin simply smiled, angling his head a bit to the side again. “Mr. George has a longer face, down turned eyes and eyebrows, he’s a bit taller than you, Mr. Fred. You have a squarer face and shorter features than him.” he explained smoothly and innocently. As if it’s something he’s observed over the course of his whole life.
“Ma’am, I’m afraid your son’s a genius.” George joked, even if he’s visibly disturbed, though nonetheless intrigued. Nobody has ever differentiated them this way, even their own mother. Though one person did. The one he cherished most. The mother smiled, holding onto her son once again. 
“I’m no genius.” Martin spoke, a shy smile gracing his small little lips, so identical to the person’s portrait above George’s bed. He even said their typical response to their mind being praised. 
“-- I just quietly observe.”
Martin spoke but George merely whispered. A shiver ran through his spine, heart pumping, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. It could’ve all been a coincidence. One big coincidence served on a silver platter, garnished with confusion and terrifying accuracy. 
“Mr. Weasley?”
He snapped back, giving the woman a sign to continue. “Uh, I just wanted to ask... err. Why that big of a discount? Why is it 54% off of everything? That doesn’t really sound like a good marketing strategy, doesn’t it?” She asked curiously. 
“Well Mrs. Edevane.” George started, seeing as Fred and little Martin were still going around the shop. “Remember the last wizarding war?” Mrs. Edevane shook her head. His smile faltered a bit but still kept his composure. “We’re, what you call it? Muggle--born?” Her eyebrows furrowed while her teeth sinked into her bottom lip. “Well, my daughter... err. Just started her first year and that McGonagall woman said that she’s a ‘muggleborn’.” 
They truly didn’t know who they are.
“-- What I’m trying to say, Mr. Weasley, is that we, or at least I, am not magical. Nor is my husband.” He nodded, breathed in a bit as his mind tried to ease itself. The boy couldn’t have known who he is as they wouldn’t have known anything about the prophet, or could they?
“Well, Mrs. Edevane. 7 years ago at this date. The second wizarding war has ended. My brother-in-law defeated... him.” It was still hard to say his name, even years later. “V-Voldemort.”
She looked curious but silently let him continue. “Uh, remember when. Uh-uhm that bridge collapsed in muggle london? 7-8 years ago? A big hurricane happened? When a lot died like-” It was hard to explain. Truly. It was hard to live through it again.
“Like that Emmeline Vance lady?”
“Yes, exactly!” He exclaimed. “It was all caused by him. By wizards! Dark wizards!” Her previously bright face now looked horror struck. It was all making sense. “Seven years ago, this day. Everything ended at Hogwarts. As well as the lives of 54 on our side.” He wanted to mention one very special loss, but figured that she doesn’t need to know about it. She was just a muggle mother who brought her son birthday shopping. “We wanted to commemorate them.”
A sincere look graced upon her face, out of pity. “Is there any chance that you’ve seen anything from the ‘Daily Prophet’, Mrs. Edevane? Or your son?” He asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. She shook her head, now gracing a look with pure confusion. “A-Anything. Like a paper? A newspaper with moving photographs? Or maybe a-a Quibbler?”
She shook her head. “Why’re you asking Mr. Weasley?” His mouth opened, about to burst out his concerns and held in grief to a complete stranger when; “George!”
It was Fred, hand resting on his twin’s shoulder as the six year old boy beside him just stood. “-- Can I talk to you? I need to talk to you.” He said, fright gracing his features and panic in his voice. 
George nodded, bidding a quick goodbye to the mother and son who came in a few moments ago and calling for one of their faculty to give them the tour they wanted.
Fred pulled his twin to an empty corner of the shop. Sound muffled by the stacks of products ranging from fireworks to extendable ears. “That boy George.” Fred panted. Voice shaking. “He knows too much. Is there a chance that you put anything about how Y/N saved me?”
“Briefly. Why?” His heart was about to pop out of his chest at any moment. Any moment now his heart would be a new WWW product. 
“He explained everything! Everything George! Knew things that he shouldn’t have!” Fred said, terrified. “What did he say?” asked George. Croaking out whatever’s left in his heaving lungs. 
“He said that he saved me. Me and Percy! From the explosion! I didn’t think much of it at first, George! I knew that you wrote that in their obituary. But he just kept going.” Frightened. They were both frightened. “Everything they did. He knew.”
“How accurate was he?”
“Very. George. Disturbingly accurate.” Back straightened and composed, Fred stood back, eyes darting back and forth from his brother to the entrance of the shop. “He knew that they transfigured the rubble to sand. He knew that they cast that ring of fire shit they did. The diabolica thing to ward off the death eaters? Yeah. He named the spell. HE NAMED THE SPELL, GEORGE!”
“I heard you the first time!” George yelled back. Disturbed, yet he felt at peace. He could have the last goodbye he’s always wanted. “We need to talk to the boy, Fred.”
His twin nodded fervently, about to walk away from the corner when he felt an arm tug on his elbow. “Oi, how can we do it without worrying the mother?”
“Give whatever he wants for free. It’s his birthday after all. Now come on!”
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The Matchmaker Pt.3
Ginny massaged her forehead. "What in Merlin's name were you thinking Fred?"
"I-I just thought if George thought someone else was trying to steal her away, it'd spur him into confessing his feelings, and then Y/N would confess hers, and it'd be happily ever after."
"And so when you realized it wasn't working, you tried to fix it by continuing to do the thing that wasn't working?" Ginny asked.
Fred shrugged. "I just thought that one more letter would be the one to do it. But, all I ended up doing was hurting George."
"And Y/N. And now probably Misty." Ginny chastised. "You know, real people do exist outside of you and George."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Fred snapped. "I know other people exist."
"Yes, but I think sometimes the only person you see as a fully formed human being with actual feelings is George," argued Ginny. "Everyone else is just a background character."
Fred blinked at that but said nothing.
"Look, I get that you love George," Ginny continued. "And you want him to be happy. But, you need to stop and think about the implications of your actions instead of just running full-tilt into everything."
"So, what do I do?" Fred looked down at his fidgeting fingers, a strange heaviness settling on his heart. He wasn't used to this feeling. This horrible feeling of defeat.
"Tell George."
"You know he's gonna kill me, Ginny."
"Unlikely, though I think he'll pissed at you for a long while. And besides, did you really think you could keep it from him forever?"
Fred only shrugged. He hadn't thought that far ahead.
"What about Y/N?" He asked.
"I'll tell her."
"Really?" Fred asked. "You'd do that for me?"
"No. I'm doing it for Y/N." Ginny said. "If you tell her, she'll kill you on sight, and I don't want my friend going to Azkaban."
Fred only nodded, his eyes darting down and away from her penetrating gaze.
~•~
He'd never seen George like this. Fred swallowed hard and backed away from his twin.
"You did WHAT?" George stepped toward his brother, slow and deliberate. A deadly calm had settled over the room as if the two brothers stood in the eye of a hurricane, just moments before the second wave of destruction slammed into them.
"How could you think this was a good idea?" George tried to maintain his composure, but with every word, the wreckage caused by Fred's asinine actions clawed themselves deeper into him, pulsing through his veins. "You let me and Y/N go through hell for the past three weeks, knowing that you could've stopped it at any time. But, you didn't, and at this point, I don't know if there's anything left to salvage."
George groaned, throwing his hands in the air. "And Misty. Fuck. I stupidly asked her out. Godric, I'm such an asshole."
"Georgie, I know I fucked up. I never wanted any of this to happen. I just thought‐‐"
"No," George cut him off. "You didn't think! You never do!"
Fred looked down, shuffling his feet. "I'm sorry. I really am."
George sighed, suddenly exhausted. Try as he might, he couldn't stay angry with Fred for very long. He knew his twin was only trying to help. "Yeah, I know," George said and threw on his cloak. "But, saying sorry isn't going to fix this."
"Wh-where are you going?" Fred couldn't hide the worry in his voice.
"To find Y/N and then to find Misty." George threw Fred's cloak to him. "And you're coming with me. You're going to tell Y/N."
"Ginny's telling Y/N."
George stopped at that. "She's doing that for you?"
Fred shook his head. "No. She's doing it for Y/N. She said Y/N would kill me on sight, and Ginny didn't want her going to Azkaban."
"Excellent point," George agreed, tilting his head in thought. "Ok. New plan. We're gonna find Misty first."
"Why?"
"If Ginny's already told Y/N, she'll need some time cool down. And if we tell Misty first, I can spend all the time I need afterward with Y/N."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah." George nodded. "Now, c'mon."
~•~
"He did WHAT?" Y/N's eyes went wide. "You mean--?"
"Yep." Ginny sighed. "Fred wrote every single one."
"I don't understand. Why would he do that?"
"The short explanation is because he's an idiot." Ginny said. "The long one is because he wanted to get George to confess his feelings for you, and Fred thought if he made it look like someone else was making a move, George would open up to you."
Y/N plopped down on the bed next to Ginny. "George has feelings for me? Like romantic feelings?"
"Of course," Ginny smiled. "Everybody knows that, except for you, apparently. And everybody knows you feel the same way about him, except for George, of course."
Y/N stared at the floor, her brain struggling to process this new information. How had she had she been so oblivious? Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift back over all the years they'd known each other and all the little extra things George did for her. Things he didn't do for anyone else. Even Fred. But, not once, in all that time, had she stopped to consider what it all actually meant.
"I need to talk to him," Y/N said, jumping up to grab her cloak before a thought struck her, stopping dead in her tracks. She looked back at Ginny. "Misty. What about her?"
"George is an idiot too, you know. But I figure he's going to call off his date with her."
"This morning? The day of the date?" Y/N asked. "That--that's not going to be pretty. I know Misty. She'll not take things well."
"I reckon it's better than trying to explain everything afterward." Ginny pointed out.
"Yeah, that's true," Y/N agreed, putting on her cloak and handing Ginny hers.
~•~
The slap echoed down the hallway as students gathered around to watch the spectacle as it unfolded.
George rubbed his stinging cheek while Misty screamed at him, her face bright red. "Fuck you George Weasley! Fuck you for thinking you could use me like that!"
"I'm sorry, I never intended--," George started, but was silenced by her turning away from him and slapping Fred.
"That's for me," she said, and then before Fred could recover, she backhanded him across the other cheek. "And that's for Y/N."
With a satisfied grin, Misty stood back, admiring her handiwork before she whirled around and strode away, parting the crowd as she went.
~•~
When no one answered the twins' door, Y/N and Ginny went in search of them. They walked in on the debacle just in time to see Misty slap George and then double-slap Fred.
"Woah," Ginny commented, a look of surprise and admiration on her face.
"I would've never thought she had it in her," Y/N added, equally stunned.
~•~
"I expected her to be upset," George said, still rubbing his cheek.
"But I didn't expect that." Fred continued, rubbing both cheeks.
"Neither did we," a familiar voice piped up behind them.
"But we were quite impressed," another added.
The twins turned around and found themselves face-to-face with Ginny and Y/N.
"Oh, uh, hi." George's unscathed cheek turned bright red to match the other one, a sheepish grin appearing on his face.
"Hi," Y/N said, returning his grin.
The two of them stood there shifting from one foot to the other, sharing shy glances until Ginny cleared her throat. "Sorry to interrupt whatever it is that the two of you are doing, but wouldn't you like to go somewhere private and talk?"
Y/N's cheeks now matched George's. "Yeah," she said, looking to the younger twin, who nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we would."
~•~
George and Y/N sat side by side on his bed, hands resting beside them, their pinkies barely brushing against each other. They'd been best friends since their first year when he and Fred came bounding into the train compartment where she was sitting. And now, here they were, nervous and shy, like two ridiculous, lovesick dolts, which after some thought, Y/N supposed they were.
Keeping her eyes straight ahead, Y/N moved her pinky to intertwine with his. George looked down, lightheaded from the sudden euphoria surging through him. Shifting closer, he encompassed her hand in his own.
Y/N's heart hammered inside her chest as she turned to look at him, the intensity of her gaze matching his, both of them knowing what would happen next. Every step they'd taken since the day they'd met had led them to this moment.
It was a moment in which time seemed to stop just for them. George's fingers traced her jawline, featherlight, raising goosebumps down her arms. He searched her eyes for any sign of doubt. But, as she inched closer to him, with her lips curved upward in a small smile, he knew she wanted this just as much as he did.
Y/N watched as George's eyes drank her in. He was close. So close. She could feel the pounding of his heart as it beat in time with hers. Y/N smiled as she slipped her free hand around the back of his neck, pulling him to her.
Their lips met for the first time, gentle and careful at first, as if the other was made of spun glass that would shatter under the lightest of pressure, then slowly deepening as they fell further and further into each other until they longer knew where one ended and the other began.
It was a moment that if they could've stretched it into infinity, they would have happily done so. But time waits for no one, and eventually, they had to return to the real world.
"I've dreamed of doing that for so long," George admitted once they pulled away.
"Me too."
"Was it as good as you thought it would be?"
Y/N smiled. "No, it was better."
George blushed in spite of himself and leaned in for another kiss, stopping just a hairsbreath from her lips. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time."
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
Y/N's smile widened. "I love you too."
~•~
"Do I really have to do this?" Fred asked as they entered the Great Hall for breakfast.
"Yes," George, Y/N, and Ginny answered in unison.
"Fine," Fred rolled his eyes and proceeded to stand upon the table while his compatriots took their seats around him.
Fred cleared his throat and then yelled at the top of his lungs. "ATTENTION HOGWARTS, I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE." The room fell into silence. "I, FREDERICK GIDEON WEASLEY AM AN IDIOT WHO CANNOT MIND HIS OWN BUSINESS. I VOW, HERE AND NOW, TO NEVER AGAIN STICK MY NOSE INTO ANYONE ELSE'S LOVE LIFE. THIS IS MY SOLEMN PROMISE."
Fred looked down to George, who simply nodded. Then, jumping down, the older twin took his usual seat.
"Happy now?" He asked.
"Ecstatic." George said, a devilish grin spread across his face.
@princess-paramour @milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @newbooksmell777
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iloveinej · 2 years
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𝕃𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕀𝕟𝕜
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑡 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟
𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛,
𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑙���𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑔𝑜 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟
𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 5𝑘
A/N: my second fic, took forever to write as usual. Enjoy:)
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Theo stared intently at his desk with his arms crossed over his chest. He was sitting in divination, not listening as Professor Trewlany droned on about 'the art of studying horoscope charts'. Every single word that escaped her mouth made its way to Theo's ears like a mosquito's bussing, which irked him to no end. He didn't even know why he signed up for the class to begin with. That's a lie. The reason he was slumping in this class was absurd, and the absurd reason was sitting by the round table in front of him, looking half asleep.
He struck you a glance, feeling the scent of overly-soaked tea and Incense reach his nose as he took a deep breath. He felt truly pathetic. Taking a ridiculous class for a girl. He could practically hear his ancestors cackling at him from their graves.
But how could he not, it was you. You with your old sweaters, you with that sarcastic mouth, you with that creative and colorful mind that always seemed to impress him. As he said before, absurd.
His eyes slowly traveled back to his table. Or rather what was laying on his table.
Before, at the almost beginning of the lesson, he'd found a letter in amongst his books. It looked like it had been written on very old parchment, and the ink that spelled out Theodore was smudged on the edges as if someone had swiped their hand over it before letting the ink dry.
He picked it up and thumbed at the edge of the folded paper, speculating if he should open it or not. A part of him was filled with nerves and slightly excited about receiving a letter. But at the same time dread, it because what if it was a detailed written letter about someone's undying love for him.
Theo truly couldn't understand how some people loved him so much that they felt the need to confess by letter. He had never really been the most handsome when he was younger, at least that was what he thought, but when he grew into puberty it changed. His looks, his voice, his height. And also his popularity among the boys and girls at Hogwarts and along with the streets of London.
"Mr. Nott!" He slowly carried his eyes forwards, meeting his gaze with the big googly eyes of Professor Trewlany, along with every single student in the classroom.
"Ah! There you are, though I had lost you for a second there." she smiled toothily,  and she continued with the lesson as if nothing had happened.
He felt embarrassment crawl steadily up his neck, and he lightly cleared his throat as if he could cough away the feeling.
Feeling a pair of eyes crawling over him, he looked around, finding that it was you that had been looking at him. Warmth rose to his ears, and the feelings had come to be to get too much for Theo.
He lightly tilted his head to you, as if asking what you wanted, and you raised one of your eyebrows at him as if it were obvious why you were staring at him. And you knew that he knew what you meant when he mouthed a 'later' before trying to focus on your lesson again. Albeit it was hard, as his fingers itched to unfold the letter but he wanted to open it outside the classroom with your guidance.
You slowly turned in your seat again, still wondering what could have gotten him so tense.
--
His head quickly turned around when you got a hold of him, and his face pleasantly relaxed when he saw you scowling at a student that had pushed you aside to get by. You proceeded to push him forward as you felt students starting to step at the heel of your shoes.
When the lesson finally came to an end, you did your best to stand up and sprint after Theo, even though your body tingled in pain from the uncomfortable position you sat in during the last hours. You saw his mop of hair walk out of the doorway, and you hurriedly shoved through your classmates to catch up with him. And when you finally reached him, you quickly took a handful of the back of his robe so that either you or he wouldn't lose each other in the crowd.
"Alright, alright, no need to push me." He told with a slight attitude layering with his clear voice. You rolled your eyes but did listen to him either way, not having the energy to push him either way.
It felt like you could breathe again when you finally arrived at the end of the stairs, and you slowly let go of Theo's robe as your hand started to cramp because of the harsh clasp you had on him. And the two of you began to track through the corridor that led to the courtyard.
"Nice weather today innit?" Theo looked at you weirdly as you tried to small talk. Your steps echoed in the once empty hall, and he wondered what had gotten you so awkward all of a sudden.
You couldn't help but take a look at him as you walked shoulder against shoulder. His hair was different like he'd started to take care of his dark brown locks. Its hair had a new shine to it, especially when the sun hit it. You lightly cleared your throat when you realized that you were starting again, and looked out of one of the big windows.
"What, you want to go out or something." He asked, and it wasn't until after he said it that he realized how it sounded. But it didn't seem like you noticed. He didn't know whether he should be happy or not about it.
You thought about it, and you decided that it did sound like a good idea. So you gave him a nod.
"Good, because I need your help." You watched curiously as he dug his hand into his pant pocket, and pulled out a piece of folded paper. Your eyes widened almost comically as you watched him fiddle with the familiar piece of parchment. You felt as if the hallway suddenly became a little bit too warm, and you felt yourself starting to sweat under your school uniform.
"Found this in one of my books earlier." He told you, turning the paper around, inspecting it. Panic began to rise in your chest as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you along, his eyes still caught on the letter.
Why didn't he open it when he got it?! Is he stupid?! Why do I need to be with him, does he know? Is he trying to embarrass me?
"Oh, hold on! I just remembered. Professor Dumbledor wanted me to go to his office after divination, something about Magic of dark arts." Everything came out in a jumble of words and you were worried that you were going to get tongue-tied.
You looked around yourself, trying to find anything that would bring you out of the awkward situation. But nothing. So you used your brain the best you could, trying to find a good enough excuse to get out of the excruciatingly embarrassing moment.
Theo watched you with suspicion. You were doing good in that class, always graduating with the highest grade. But he recently let you go, either way, finding no peace in arguing with you.
"Alright, see you later then." He nodded, and you saw how he was fighting off a frown, but you shook the guilt off and ran towards Dumbledor's office. Or more like running past his office and sprinting towards the Gryffindor common rooms.
You pushed through the people on the stairs, accidentally stepping on Neville's foot in the process.
"Sorry, Neville!" Nevil, Dean, and Seamus watched you crawl up the stairs in a hurry.
"I'm telling you, that lady is crazy." Seamus voiced, and Dean snorted loudly.
--
"So stupid." You muttered, shaking your head.
"Mimbulus Mimbletonia." You articulated, giving a glance to your surroundings before slipping into the red and yellow painted common room. The room was luckily empty, most of the students enjoying the last warmth of the sun before it became cold once again. You unconsciously started pacing around in the room with your thumbnail getting amused by your teeth.
"So, so stupid. Why would you give him a letter? He hates letters." Cursing at your stupid decisions, you threw yourself on one of the couches, letting your body melt into the fluffy cushions with your jaw resting on the place between your collarbones.
"Shut up Fred."
"Oh, what a depressing sight." Someone sighed deeply, a faux petty in their voice. You knew that voice by heart and didn't have to look up when two weights invited themselves on either side of your potato bag of a body.
"He's right, you look depressing. Maybe even a bit pathetic, with a little piece of hopelessness in the mix." George rubbed his imaginary beard as he thought about what you looked like.
You sighed. Normally the presence of a Weasly would be enough to dig you out of your moods, but this time it did the opposite.
"Thanks, I'm aware." There was a bite in your voice, and the twins met eyes, both holding a pinch of surprise in their brown irises.
Fred slowly sank into the couch, mirroring your body language. Whether it was to tease you or if he felt as utterly dumb as you did, no one knew. And frankly, you didn't care.
"Oh? was that what I thought it was?" Fred egged on, and the small laugh that escaped you was uncontrolled. It was strange how they were able to be such mood lifters. Because they could be real asshats in their moments.
"Soooooo." You felt George starting to rearrange is the position he was in, and after some shuffling around, he was laying on his stomach with his legs swaying back and forth. They stared at you with those puppy dog-like eyes, and you were forced to push your tongue against the wall of your cheek to not let your smile show.
"How did the letter thing go, did you woo him with your charming letter." And you were back to sulking once more.
"It went shit." You muttered.
"Elaborate." Fred encouraged, resting his head in his palm.
You sighed dramatically before resting your head on the edge of the back seat.
"He didn't open the letter when he got it, and then he expected me - who wrote the letter - to sit with him while he read it like a bloody moron." Rambling and exaggerating were two things of your specialty. It did occur often, but fortunately, no one seemed to think that it mattered, only finding it a little more amusing.
"Well, he must know that you're so extremely head over heels in love with him either way now since he read the letter I mean," Ginny spoke up from nowhere and your head snapped towards her when she did. Fred and George agreed from their point of view, thinking that the problem was solved.
"They told me." She quickly defended herself while pointing at the two boys on your sides.
"Why wouldn't you sign with your name when you declared your love for him, you moron," Ginny whined. And you tried to get out an excuse for your stupid mistake.
"Well, he would know, yes. If it weren't for the fact that I did not sign my name." With a guilty mumble, you sank even further down on the couch, feeling the weight of the consequences of your action on your shoulders. Or rather the lack of action.
The three siblings simultaneously groaned and complained at your confession.
"Bu- Well it wasn't like it was an 'exact declaration'. I just wrote about how his hair and eyes looked nice." You shrugged with a small pout forming on your lips. The whole ordeal was beginning to feel ridiculous and you were starting to regret ever giving him the note in the first place.
"What did you even expect to happen. That he would figure out who it was in two seconds and run into your arms?" Ginny asked, and the twins gasped comedically.
"Harsh, sister."
You let out a pitiful groan. "No, she's right. I should just... not continue. Let it be." You gave yourself an encouraging nod, ignoring the sinking feeling in your chest. You wanted to Nott about your feelings so bad, but you didn't have the mental strength to get turned down, and potentially ruin the only thing that let you be close to Theodore.
"No! That's even dumber! You are going to continue with this letter thing you've started with." Ginny pointed at you sternly, and she watched your eyes turn big at her tone of voice.
"Or else... Or else I'm going to take you off the Quidditch team." She crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at the three of you. And just when you opened your mouth Ginny made sure to shut it.
To everyone's surprise, including your own, you did continue to anonymously send those poetic words to Theodore, and while you didn't do it with any proclaimed confidence, you didn't sit by the side to wait for the faith to tie you together.
"And don't think that I can't, because I know people." She informed with a stone face and puffed chest. You quickly nodded, not finding yourself intimidated by the younger girl, though still trusting her words. And with the confirmation from you, she swiftly turned around and let her legs carry her towards the door, intending to get that last beams of sunlight on her face.
--
And even though Theo might be the unaware genius, he was still observant and could detect a shift of emotion by the smallest twitch of an eyebrow or the tiny wrinkle on someone's nose. But it didn't seem to be in his favor for the situation he was glued in.
Though you didn't know if you gained a positive response from him since you always avoided him after the letter was hidden and given. And as Theodore was the smartest wizard in the house of Slytherin, in your year at least. It astounded you that the cunning Mr. Nott still hadn't come to figure out that the letters were from you. But you didn't know his point of view, and that was not calming your anxiety one bit. For while you craved for him to know your affections for him, you knew that the risk of rejection was still a major possibility of an outcome.
So when the lesson ended he quickly took a strong grip on your wrist before forcefully dragging you after him. At first, you didn't outwardly question him or protest, but when you saw the nicely folded papers in between his fingers, you felt a cooling bucket of panic getting thrown over your head.
He did notice that every time he brought up the factor that he wanted to show you something, you were immediately gone by the second. And your -what he hopes was- excuses were thoroughly thought out and planned, making them seem like they were only coincidences. And on his fifth letter he decided that it was time to tell you about the letters, even if, for whatever reason, you didn't want to hear.
Fear began to take over, doubts and anxious questions filling your brain to the rim. You attempted to object and you were beginning to run out of excuses, but it didn't matter because the second you opened your mouth you were shut down or hushed by Theodore.
"Oh Nott come on, stop being impossible!" you tried to protest.
"Oh hush and quit whining." Muttering. You despised when he muttered.
He grabbed the chair closest to you, and as the gentleman, he was, pulled it out for you.
It appeared to you that he was taking you to the library, and you let that calm your nerves since you knew that he would never try any confrontation in a public space. But to your horror, the library was packed with students. He decided that a spot in the back would be the best option, both for his and your comfort. And after accidentally walking into someone he finally arrived at the corner that he was looking for.
But you didn't seem to understand because first, you looked down at the seat that was meant for you before you slowly allowed your eyes to travel upon Theo, who was looking at you with a newfound determination. He was closer to your face than you prepared for, and you instinctively held your breath so that you wouldn't breathe on his face.
When you looked at him, Theo almost wanted to drop the act that he had going on. You looked up at him with big, questioning eyes and it took Theo the little self-restraint left after all the years with you to not do something regrettable.
"Sit." You could see his sharp canines as let the world out between his lips. It wasn't an ask and neither was it a suggestion. His demand caught you so off-guard that he didn't have time to blink before you were sitting on your chair.
"As you can see, I've been getting letters." He started.
Theo felt a small amount of ridiculous as he ordered you around, but he didn't have a choice since if he didn't, you would continue to slip through his fingers like an eel. He sat himself down in the red-clad chair and slowly pulled out the letters, trying to gauge a reaction from you. But your face didn't show any signs of discomfort, uneasiness, or awkwardness. The only emotion visible on your face was the cursed confusion.
"And I think that you already knew that since you've been trying to get away from me every time I try to bring them up." He paid notice to how your back slightly straightened, and he took that as an I sign to continue.
"But that doesn't matter right now." And that's a lie.
You watched as he tried to find the right words and a deep sigh told you that he was struggling. You had known Theo for 4 years, and even though he had a great capacity for writing and reading, he was still struggling with his speech. And it wasn't that he was bad at his grammar, he just had a problem expressing his feelings. And that had gotten you into many unforgettable fights and misunderstandings.
"I need your help." It was mumbled, almost not heard. You raised your eyebrows in slight surprise, feeling slightly helpless as you watched the seemingly distressed young man in front of you.
"And what might it be that Mr. Nott might need help with." You crossed your leg over the other, and you felt slightly bizarre at this moment.
Theodore watched your pellicular manner and raised his eyebrow at you when you reminded him a bit too much of a phycologist.
"Seriously, what's up with you?" He asked, but didn't have the needed patience to wait for an answer that wouldn't come.
"Whatever, what should I do with the letters?" What. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
"I'm afraid I'm lost."
He sighed, rolling his eyes and scoffing, seemingly feeling irritated by the fact that you didn't understand him for shit.
"Should I read them, throw them away? Or maybe you should read them?" He sounded conflicted like it was one of the hardest decisions he'd ever had to make, and you got curious about what could've gotten him to behave like he did at the moment.
"Wait, you haven't read the letters." It was more a conclusion than a question.
For some reason was the first emotion you felt embarrassment, and you had no clue as to why. Something in the back of your head told you that he knew that you were the culprit, but it was almost if not impossible for him to know. Or perhaps it was for the fact that you felt so desperate to know how he felt for you.
You could feel yourself sinking into your chair as Theo shook his head.
"I was going to read the first with you, but it seemed that Dumbledore's office and quidditch seemed to be more interesting." A small scowl melted upon your face, and annoyance flared up in your chest as he blamed his cowardness on you.
Theo felt his heart rattle as you lightly glared at him, whether it was from the feeling of excitement or uneasiness, he didn't know. And as an answer to your glare, almost like an instinct, he raised a challenging eyebrow.
It made you roll your eyes, starting to get tired of his childish behavior.
"Coward." You mumbled.
"I'm not a coward, I don't want to open the letters if I don't know who they're from." He hastily defended, and once again your face scrunched up in confusion. You shifted in your chair, uncrossing your legs and letting them fall to the sides as you sagged even more. And out of an accident, your foot made contact with his. You were just about to jump away, but Theo didn't move nor recognize it, so neither did you.
"So you want the letters to be from a specific person?" You sighed tiredly. You waited for the shake of his head and speech of denial. But it didn't come. Instead, he slowly nodded, while looking at you through his lashes.
You let your face be overcome by faux surprise and excitement and tilted your body forwards so that you could rest your head in your hands.
"Who is it." You cringed at the squeal in your voice, but you didn't let it show for the sake of your little act.
"I don't see how that's any of your business." There was a shift in his tone, and you were taken aback by the quick change in demeanor. You slowly leaned back with a scoff stuck in your throat.
Theodore suddenly felt uncomfortable by your sudden show of excitement and his stomach slowly sunk as his thoughts went haywire. It was obvious to him that you wouldn't show this excitement over who he might love, especially if you didn't know who. He pressed his lips together in misfortune and let himself get consumed by the failure and shame.
The letters weren't brought up again after that, and Theodore seemed to have dropped his strange attitude and gone back to his normal, brooding, and charming self. Although you couldn't shake off the feeling that something had changed with him, you just couldn't pinpoint what.
"No need to get so defending Nott. I was only asking." He scoffed lightly and began to back his letters into his robe.
Your butt had started to ache and it felt like the old tree bench had started to grow roots to you because of how long Oliver had been discussing tactics and positions and whatnot for the last hour. You understood that he wanted to win because you all did. But you didn't believe that sitting on your arses was the best way to prepare.
"Alright, let's wrap this up. Fred, George. You had something to say?" Slightly shifting on the bench, you watched as the twins switches places with Oliver and you exchanged glances with Angelina, but she didn't look like she knew what they were up to either.
"We would like, as a start for our speech, to get our lovely chaser (name) up on stage." Two hands grabbed the fabric of your red and gold clothes, and you yelped as you were roughly pulled up, and squished between the twins.
"That's what is suspected. And how convenient that our chaser has given us her hands." You started to protest in their grip as the small crowd four broke out in applause and jubilee. But before you were able to break out from their strong grip, they turned to you and blocked your way with their tall frames.
There was a silence before they began again."How many in here, would like a free broom service." The entire room stretched their hands up, and you started to suspect evil in their minds. But you let them continue for the sake of your sanity.
"If we win, you confess to your Slytherin man." You quickly opened your mouth to protest but as usual, you were quickly shut down. " And if you refuse, the night will be spent with six broomsticks instead of snogging with Nott." George finished Fred's sentence, and you squirmed at their bluntness and choice of words.
Their faces were a void of amusement, and you felt yourself being pushed into a corner. Both figuratively and literally.
"Alright fine. Fine! I'll do it. If this is the only way you'll leave my love life alone. I'll do it." You only mumbled the last part, the words being meant more as a personal encouragement.
That's why it came as a surprise that you could hear Theodore's sharp whistle through the autumn air.
They silently did their celebrations, high five and a little too hard slap on your back. And after five minutes, you were standing on the side of the court, swallowing down your nerves and waiting to step up on your brooms and start the game.
--
You watched in broad horror as Harry catches the snitch before the Hufflepuff did, your stomach turning itself inside out with nerves. You had seen Theodore in the crowd, and while it normally would make you giddy, it didn't go quite the same this time. The shouts and hollers of victory were ears deafening around you, and that combined with the buzz in your ears because your adrenalin rush made it hard for you to even hear your thoughts.
You found him standing on the edge of the stand, and when he saw that he had your attention, he gently waved you down to him with his hand. Almost immediately, you directed your broom down and stopped it so that you would be eye to eye with him.
"Hello." He was leaning against the wooden beam that was acting like a railing, with a small, sly smirk on his face.
"Hi." The shy smile on your face was uncontrollable, but you couldn't help it because you had never seen Theodore looking at you with such eyes.
"You did a good job out there."
"Why thank you." You answered bashfully. Theodore looked down on his armrest with a small smile, and began to slowly trace it with his fingers.
"You know, I never would've guessed that you could be such a poet." He watched your face twist in confusion.
You felt your body begin to warm, pushing away the autumn cold as hooded Theodore's eyes were locked with your lips.
"Sorry, but I'm no poet." You answered carefully, sensing what this was about. But you couldn't understand. He said that he didn't read the letters, and even if he did it later, it meant that it had only taken him one day to figure out who it was from. A gulp scratched your throat as Theodore's eyes began to travel away from yours. Like a soft caress, they raked over your face, from your brows to your soft cheek, ending on the cupid of your lips.
"You're a dick sometimes."
"Nott-." That's all of your warnings that you were able to get out before he placed a big open-mouthed kiss on your cold lips. At first, your entire body became rigid as a rock of surprise, until the other one of Theo's hands positioned itself on the back of your neck. A sound scaped the back of your throat as you started to relax against his lips, and you felt yourself getting lost in the feeling of ecstasy.
Now you were just confused. Your mouth hung open with unsaid words, but your brain seemed to have stopped training because of the stunning words that Theodore provided. He rolled his eyes, and you were beginning to get seriously annoyed at his cryptic behavior. Until he forcefully grabbed the collar of your red and gold clothing and pulled you towards him.
Theodore watched you with hooded eyes, feeling pleasure from only seeing your content face. But he had to pull away because he had been holding his breath ever since this morning.
So he gave a teasing lick with his tongue on your lower lip before he slowly pulled away. You tried to chase him with your lips, but the grip that he had on your shirt prevented you from so desperately locking your lips again.
"So you knew that it was my letters." You mumbled, watching him with slanted eyes.
He chuckled, and you were broken out of your bliss when he released you from his death grip. Both of your heads snapped towards the court when two surprisingly loud voices were heard whooping. Fred and George gave each other a high five again, and you shrank in embarrassment as you realized that your intimate moment with Theodore wasn't as secluded as you thought it was. When you looked at him as again, you realized that you had always cherished him. And that he would always have your soul and heart wrapped around his pinky, imbedded with his silver rings.
"I had no idea." He smiled lightly." As I said, I didn't want to read the letters until I knew that it was from the person that I wanted it to be."
You sighed loudly, your insides melting.
"You are adorable." Happily, you cupped his rosy cheeks and mushed them together to see his cute pout. He tried to struggle out of your grip, and when you let go of his cheeks he was glaring at you. But you didn't let yourself be fooled by his handsome face, instead trusting his blushing ears that he wasn't as opposed. And with a last peck in-between his eyebrows, you flew away as you wanted to get out of your sweaty clothes to later spend time with the young wizard and not cleaning brooms.
--
That's it, I have come to realise my inability to write a One shot under 5k. Bye.
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