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elliemarchetti · 7 days

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The Queen of the Quills - Jily Edition (part 4)

Posting on Tumblr too because this fic's sister is already there.

Reading The Queen of the Quills - Blackinnon Edition will not be mandatory to understand the developments of James and Lily's story, but some details could be shared, therefore, for anyone wishing to fully enjoy the experience, I will leave a small index.

Blackinnon Edition - Chapter 1

Blackinnon Edition - Chapter 2

Jily Edition - Chapter 1

Blackinnon Edition - Chapter 3

Jily Edition - Chapter 2

Jily Edition - Chapter 3

This was @athenasparrow's gift for @jilymicrofics ' Exchange 2024, but if you like it and are willingly to reblog, it would be super appreciated since stories like this require quite some time and effort🥰

Taglist (if anyone wants to be added, please DM me or comment and I'll gladly add you!): @thaisthedreamer

Plot: James Potter, London's most evasive bachelor, an impertinent libertine, has decided to get married. He has also already chosen his wife, the debutante Lily Evans, a self-confident young woman who has not the slightest intention of being seduced by such a man. A Bridgerton inspired Regency AU.

By the evening, it had become apparent that Lily hadn’t come through her, albeit brief, bath in the Serpentine unscathed: her nose turned red, her eyes began to water and it was apparent to anyone who glimpsed her puffy face for even a second that, while not seriously ill, she’d caught a bad cold. But even while she was tucked in bed with a hot water bottle between her feet and a therapeutic potion brewed up by the cook in a mug on her bedside table, Petunia was determined to have a conversation with her.

“What did he say to you on the ride home?” she demanded, perching on the edge of her sister’s bed.

“Who?” Lily replied, sniffing fearfully at the remedy.

“Mr. Potter,” Petunia ground out. “Who else would have spoken to you on the ride home when he was the one who rescued you and asked a stranger for their curricle?”

“Just the usual sort of things,” she responded, vague as always. “You know what I mean. Polite conversation and all that.”

“He made polite conversation while you were both dripping wet?” Petunia insisted, doubtful.

“He asked for my welfare, of course, which was only reasonable, considering I had just been dunked in the Serpentine, which, I might add, was perfectly wretched. Aside from being cold, the water was most certainly not clean,” Lily shrugged, clearly not as interested in the conversation as her sister.

Petunia cleared her throat and sat back down, preparing to ask a most scandalous question, but one which, in her opinion, simply had to be asked.

“Did he make any untoward advances?” she inquired, trying to keep her voice devoid of the complete and total fascination that was coursing through her veins.

Lily lurched back, her eyes growing round with shock.

“Of course not!” she exclaimed. “He was a perfect gentleman. Really, I don’t see what has you so excited. It wasn’t a very interesting conversation; I can’t even remember half of what was said.”

This, Petunia knew, was a complete lie, like all the veiled compliments she was paying to the wizard who until a few hours earlier she hated with all her heart. Why she behaved this way, however, was beyond her. Had she perhaps changed her mind about him? Hard to believe, when her sister was so stubborn. So, something must’ve happened, something if not scandalous at least romantic, that type of interaction fate seemed to have decided to forbid to Petunia. So, after a few moments of peaceful silence, she decided to investigate to find out if Mr. Potter had said anything about her, but Lily shook her head.

“He had a lot to say about his dog, though,” she added, as if it might make her feel better, but Petunia’s lips parted with dismay. It was never flattering to be passed over for a dog.

“I assured him I bear no ill will toward Padfoot, and that I wasn’t at all angry with him, but he was rather charmingly upset on my behalf. You, on the other hand, are rather interested in him,” Lily pointed out before grabbing a handkerchief and blowing her nose unceremoniously.

“I had the pleasure of spending a while conversing with him,” Petunia replied, as if that ought to explain everything.

“Good, then you’ve had the chance to see how utterly unremarkable he is,” sniffled Lily, fumbling around for a fresh handkerchief. “I’m afraid London’s society had been blinded by his wealth and gave him a position he’s not really deserving of. Sure, he’s rich, but I don’t think one can choose a husband based entirely on finances.”

“Well…” Petunia hedged, knowing her sister was absolutely correct but not wanting to say anything that might be construed as disapproval for Mr. Potter. “I still think we should add him to our list.”

“Our list?” Lily echoed, her voice strangled.

“Of possible matches,” explained Petunia, trying to ignore the expression on her sister’s face.

She knew what Lily thought of her: since she wasn’t a witch, she would never find a husband who was part of the wizarding society, and since she had never been invited to any of their parties – but Petunia told herself this was only dictated by a respect for the law and not from the disinterest of the magical community in her regards – she had no chance of getting the attention of even the least gifted of them. It hurt her to know that her sister had so little consideration of her, but even more so that she didn’t actively apply herself to not be separated again by those abilities Petunia hadn’t been granted. When they were little, and that cursed letter from Hogwarts hadn’t driven a wedge between them, they were inseparable: the minimal age difference, the same interests and their complementary characters had created an unforgettable dynamic duo, for which everyone showered their mother with compliments, even though she had failed to produce a male heir before her husband’s death. Then an owl had arrived, a not so strange occurrence in their country house, but instead of waiting for the night it had flown onto the windowsill of one of their living room windows in broad daylight and started pecking so hard at the glass that Petunia feared it might break. As soon as it saw the butler approaching, he left the letter he was holding with his talons and came back to where it came from, taking with him the bond between her and Lily. Petunia knew she had been wrong for indulging in the jealous outbursts she’d made early on, but then she’d tried to make amends, to ignore the bitter taste of bile that rose in her throat every time her parents praised her sister on a school result or some oddity she managed to achieve to simplify life at home in a way not even a crowd of maids would’ve been able to. Once she came of age, she had accepted that, although she was the eldest, she was second to Lily in everything else, but she didn’t care, her only goal that to get back the affection of the one who had always been her best, and probably only, friend. But despite her commitment, despite the interest she showed in a world that considered her rubbish, Lily had now built a wall Petunia didn’t know how to get around, and it did nothing but make her furious.

“I though you wanted a scholar,” the younger pointed out.

“I did,” confirmed the oldest. “I still do, but since the likelihood of finding a true scholar here are minimal, I think I can settle on Mr. Potter. He seems intelligent enough, so you’ll just have to devise a way to discover if he likes to read.”

“I’d be surprised if he could,” Lily muttered, making her laugh, the cheerful sound coming to a halt when a low rumble of distant thunder reverberated in the night and her sister flinched. She usually was all right when the storm was far away, but when it was closer, she looked like she was about to burst from her skin.

“Petunia,” she said, apparently needing to have this discussion with her but also to say something that would take her mind off the approaching tempest. “You must put him from your mind. He’s absolutely not the sort of husband who would make you happy, and aside from the fact he is the worst sort of rake and would probably flaunt a dozen mistresses in your face, haven’t you read The Queen of the Quills? Or listened to anything any of the other young ladies’ mothers have to say? The ones who have been on the social circuit for several years and know what’s what, all say his only saving grace is how nicely he treats his mother.”

“Well, that would be a mark in his favour,” Petunia asserted. “Since a mother is family and a wife is too.”

“A wife isn’t the same as a blood relative,” groaned Lily. “Men who would never dream of uttering a cross word in front of their mothers trample all over other women’s feelings every day.”

“And how would you know this?” Petunia demanded, causing a shocked reaction in Lily. In truth, she couldn’t remember the last time she had questioned her judgment on an important matter, and unfortunately for her sister, the only answer she could think of on such short notice was an unsatisfactory “I just do” that didn’t pass the muster.

“Aside from all that,” she resumed, in a placating voice, deciding to steer the topic in a different direction. “I don’t think you would even like Mr. Potter if you got to know him.”

“He seemed pleasant enough when I met him,” she maintained.

“But he was on his best behaviour!” Lily persisted. “Of course he’d seem nice, he wants my family to like him but it was all an act! Between last night and this afternoon, I spent several hours in his company, and I can assure you, he wasn’t on his best behaviour with me.”

Petunia gasped with horror and maybe a little titillation.

“Did he kiss you?” she breathed.

“Of course not!” Lily howled. “Where on earth would you get that idea?”

“You said he wasn’t on his best behaviour,” rejoined, innocently, Petunia.

“What I meant,” Lily ground out, “what that he wasn’t polite, nor very nice. In fact, he was insufferably arrogant and dreadfully rude and insulting.”

“That’s interesting,” Petunia murmured. “Very odd indeed. One would think he’d go out of his way to be nice to you first, since he’s you he wants to marry. Why behave the churl?”

“He said he couldn’t help himself,” she retorted, her face coloured a dull red, not so noticeable in the candlelight and mixed with the redness already present because of her cold, but still a different, embarrassed shade.

Petunia’s mouth fell open, and for one second she sat utterly frozen, as if suspended in time. Then, she dropped onto a pillow, hooting with laughter.

“That’s splendid!” she gasped. “It might be the funniest thing I’ve heard all month, maybe all year!”

“There’s no need to dwell on it,” Lily grumbled,

“He might be the very first gentleman you haven’t been able to manage,” Petunia went on, ignoring her sister’s pleas. “And although you say he’s rather unremarkable, I bet my best dress you’ll be married by the end of the year!”

_____________________________

Early the following week, after he and Sirius had amicably sparred, made peace over a glass of Firewhisky, and the bruises had faded into faint greenish marks, Mrs. Potter announced her intent to host a musicale. The organization of these events was not as tiring and expensive as that of a ball, and the space required was undoubtedly smaller, but it was still necessary to take care of sending the invitations, carefully selecting the audience, and distributing the seats adequately, so that no stupid arguments would break out between families who didn't see eye to eye. Of course, the front row would be occupied by the homeowners, their esteemed guest, and the McKinnon family, but the seats behind them were yet to be filled.

“I think Mrs. Evans would appreciate our invitation,” Euphemia said, not even looking up from the list she was making in her elegant handwriting.

“You should invite her eldest too, maybe together the sisters will be less uncomfortable among us Londoners,” Sirius added, trying to hide the sadistic smile spreading across his face. James glared at him, but made no comment, determined not to let his mother know how much his courtship of Lily was proving to be a fiasco.

“What a wonderful idea!” Euphemia exclaimed, adding a + 2 next to Mrs. Evan’s name. “I just hope the youngest has overcome the nasty cold she got last week. Gossip says she slipped in the Serpentine while trying to escape from a crazed beast. Do you think it was a Blast-Ended Skrewt? I heard some have been sighted near Rotten Row…”

“Probably,” James replied, feigning disinterest, while Sirius barely managed to hid a chuckle with a cough. He was the cause of Miss Evans’ fall into the Serpentine, and he claimed he did it for James’ sake, who had looked like a true romantic hero as he took off his jacket to jump into the water and help her back to shore. How The Queen of the Quills wasn’t aware of the matter, and hadn’t mentioned it in her damned columns, was a mystery for which James found himself immeasurably grateful.

“We should send her some flowers,” his mother went on, scanning the room as if hoping to find a bouquet there.

“I’m afraid they wouldn’t make a welcome gift,” James found himself saying, before he could bite his tongue. Receiving a grim look from his parent, he was forced to add that she was allergic, a detail he wouldn’t have been aware of if he hadn’t been at their house.

“We talked about it when we danced together last week,” he concluded, when the silence stretched long enough for him to understand that the day’s occupation wouldn’t continue until he provided an explanation to his knowledge.

“I’m sure she’d appreciate a thought from you, though,” Sirius interjected. “Maybe a book. I know she loves to read.”

And so, James found himself practically forced to retrace the road to the Evans residence, this time without any flowers but equipped with three invitations to his mother's musicale and a novel he knew was very popular among young witches of his future wife's age. Because despite the embarrassment, despite having acted like a fool and almost let the temptation to kiss her take over while he was fixing her bonnet, he still intended to marry her. After all, even while drenched and dirty, her skin possessed a flickering glow that make his muscle tighten at his inability to touch it freely, and although she might be too bossy and too quick to jump to conclusions, her eyes reminded him of the walks he used to take with his father, and her mouth, which vexed him to no end with its endless stream of insults and opinions, delivered the most perfect laugh.

James shuddered when he reached the front door, already familiar. He had dreamed about this moment, but in his sleep he was furious with her for whatever reason, and it wasn’t the butler who opened the door, but Lily herself, and there was no need to make polite conversation with her mother, to get out mindless words that tipped from his tongue as if by rote, because she was the one standing in front of him, a blessing indeed, since his mind was most definitely set on kissing her out of her mind. Oh, if she had known what he did to her with his imagination, she would’ve never agreed to marry him, but the Lily of his dreams was much more even-tempered than the real her, and although she still made his blood rush, and they spent enjoyable time together, he was able to not fall in love with her. The fake Lily he constructed in his head was exactly what he needed, but he was sure the one sitting on her bed in the company of her sister, hair let down and cheeks flush, would make him sweat and slide into mindless temptation given the chance.

“Why are you here?” she asked, trying to appear much tougher than she actually was.

“To apologize again for what happened,” he muttered, triggering a fit of giggles from Petunia. “And to bring this to you, to cheer your healing process.”

Guarded, Lily reached across the bed to take the book handed to her, giving him a glimpse of what she usually hid with her chaste dresses. Whatever thanks he had received, whatever words had been said in the room, never reached his ears, which began to ring dully with lust.

“And the envelopes you’re holding in you hand?” Petunia asked, her voice too high-pitched to ignore after a few moments.

“They’re your tickets for the musicale my mother is hosting on Friday night,” he replied, and although Lily didn’t seem the least bit interested, her nose already buried in the book she’d just received, Petunia’s eyes lit up.

“Don’t pay attention to my sister, giving her a book is the only way to shut her up,” the eldest joked. “But we are both grateful for the invitations, and you can already tell your mother we will be honoured to be present.”

“See you on Friday, then,” said James, as a farewell, with a little bow.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter,” he thought he heard Lily murmur once the door was closed behind him, but it could only be a figment of his imagination, so he tried not to put too much weight on the softness in her tone. Their next meeting would be the decisive one, the one that would allow him to court her in style and marry her by the end of the year, but for now, he had to settle for crumbs and cold courtesies.

#jily #james potter #lily evans #petunia evans #sirius black #euphemia potter #marauders era #bridgerton au #regency au #harry potter fanfics

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butterbeerblurbs · 2 years

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you were always number one (f.w.)

💌: in fred’s heart, you were always number one–if only he acted like it in the first place, none of this would’ve happened. 📝 word count: 3,130 words / fred weasley x reader / ☔️🌸 angst to fluff 💬: this is heavily inspired by hermione and ron’s situation at the yule ball! written for our fave freddie >:) i wrote this a bit differently, hopefully you guys enjoy it as much as i did writing it! 🎧: astronomy - conan gray [this version]

fred knew in his heart of hearts this wasn’t what he wanted. in his mind, things panned out much differently. he had the imagery of a fairytale-like scenario to unfold; you would walk down the steps in your beautiful dress, headed towards his arms to walk into the yule ball together. you would dance the night away, in his embrace as he made you laugh and you’d for sure make fun of his corsage but appreciate that he put in so much thought to match the colour of your dress, the beauty of your smile.

instead... the two of you are now standing outside in the open, grass beneath your feet. the ballroom behind fred, the trees behind you. fred’s stammering terribly over his words at the sight of you crying in front of him.

let’s... take it back a couple of beats.

thump. it’s the week before the yule ball. while the glamour falls upon the triwizards, especially having four than the usual three, it’s all the hype and buzz. for those who weren’t involved, the excitement for the yule ball takes the full swing.

you’re excited. beyond ecstatic at the thought of... of... your train of thought takes a break as you watch your fantasised date... asking angelina johnson to be his date.

thump, thump. it’s five days before the yule ball. dateless. well, not until a good friend occupies the space across from you. instinctively, you look up and–”ollie?”

“mind if i join ya?” oliver grins, already getting comfortable as he crosses his leg on the grass. you snort, closing your book on your lap as one of your stretched legs reach to kick his side, “you’re already joining me before you ask.”

“then i guess it’s natural for me to lead into asking if you would like to join me to the yule ball?”

ollie’s waving a hand in front of your face, smiling despite your confused face.

“m-me?” gulp. blink. “you can’t possibly–”

“what? you don’t fancy me?”

“ollie, that’s not what i meant–”

“you’ll go with me, then?”

“i–well–”

“as my best mate?”

you take the biggest sigh. this boy nearly gave you a fright. you didn’t have the emotional capacity to wonder if he actually had a crush on you but seeing that playful glint in his eyes, oliver wood’s had a knack for messing with you. maybe that’s why you two were best friends. speaking of...

“you nearly gave me a heart attack, ollie! maybe start off with that sentence, next time!”

“oh, so there’s a next time, then?” ollie taunts, hurriedly getting up from the ground and he’s bolting for it when he can tell you’re about to smack him in the head. or kick him some place where it hurts.

“get back here!”

“will you give me your hand for the taking, then?!”

“fine! just let me hit you first!”

“alright, c’mere!” oliver swiftly turns around and catches you to fall onto the ground. despite the onslaught of hitting that oliver takes to the chest, the both of you soon laugh after, excited to go as best friends just to have a good time. you weren’t going to lie, it made you feel a lot better knowing you would be having a fun night with someone who cared about you. you can see it in oliver’s eyes but what you couldn’t see was the pair of brown ones watching from a distance, pained.

thump, thump, thump. two days before the yule ball. the chair in front of you is being pulled out in the quiet of the library. looking up, it’s–”freddie...”

“you’re one tough cookie to find, y/n.” the ginger head chuckles as he settles down, glancing to your notes before back up to your face. you blink at him a couple of times before managing a smile. you can’t quite decipher the look in his eyes and... neither can fred. on his end, he has no idea what he’s doing. he doesn’t know if this was him being impulsive or if he had calculated what to do, what to say.

being here in front of you, he felt at ease but... he felt nervous.

nervous with what he’s about to ask.

"could i ask you something?”

you nod.

“say... do you have a date to the yule ball?”

you nod again. he playfully huffs.

“what? not gonna let me hear your voice, now?”

you won’t admit it but fred’s nature made you feel less tensed. it makes you chuckle out of habit. feeling a little at ease.

“yes, mr. fred weasley. i have a date. as do you, i assume?”

he frowns, “what’d you mean?”

“you’re going with angelina, right?”

fred failed to hold back his thoughts, quickly chipping back: “and you seem excited to go with ollie, i assume?” at his words, though you have nothing to hide, it makes you hang your head low as you avoid his gaze. he carefully shifts forward, trying to lean down to get a glimpse of your eyes. “are you?”

“what does it matter, anyway?”

fred lets out a sigh.

“so... you weren’t gonna take up my offer?”

that makes you furrow your brows. he sees you’ve forgotten. he doesn’t remind you verbally but somehow looking into his eyes, his words echo in your mind. the reminder that if the two of you didn’t have dates, he offered to go with you.

surprisingly–not–it strikes a chord in your chest. painfully strumming on your heartstrings. as if this was a joke. as if your... your feelings were a joke. that’s what it felt like. fred watches as the look in your eyes change. the shift scares him. not knowing what was about to hit him.

“is that all i am to you, then?” you sounded sad, so sad. fred can’t pick up the hint quick enough, can’t find the words to reply with when you’ve pinned him down with: “am i just a last resort to you?”

fred gapes, eyes widening at the implication even if... even if he... even...

he only processes what’s happening when you’ve quickly packed up your things and you’ve made a move to stand. panicking, he reaches across the table to grab onto your wrist, having a couple of seconds rooting you in place when you gaze down. how tight he’s hold onto you, wanting to make things right even though he didn’t know how.

fred watches as you remove your hand from his grasp, bidding him goodnight and leaving the library. he doesn’t know how badly he’s messed up until you’re far away.

thump, thump, thump, thump. ten minutes before the yule ball began. dates were uniting at the bottom of the staircase, by the entrance of the huge doors. fred’s nervous for the wrong reasons. angelina’s trying to calm his nerves down, ushering him things will be alright, they’ll fall into place; they always have for you. for fred. it’s just... a small bump in the road.

angelina’s gasp is what reels fred to gaze towards the stairs, where his breath gets caught in his throat watching you begin to descend the stairs. it’s a pretty colour on you (anything on you looks beautiful), your hair with tiny accompanying flowers pinned to your locks and... and you’re... walking towards oliver wood who has a matching corsage tucked into his coat pocket.

fred’s still mindful of angelina, turning back to her but she gives him a nudge towards your direction. whispering a soft it’s okay, go! when he does build up the courage, all you do is pass him by, another guy hooked onto you as you head in.

thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. it’s almost the end of the yule ball and oliver’s no fool. past the attempts of trying to forget, oliver’s still a good friend who can read you like the back of his hand. he lures you to the side and gets you a drink, a breather, a thank you when you look into his eyes and he knows.

“you’re gonna want to head out for a bit,” oliver murmurs past the music growing softer, mellow dance music starts to fill the ballroom and you nod. even though you know you’ve held a tough front, it’s still so hard. you’ve been dreaming of the yule ball since... since chatters and rumors filled the hallways of what if’s and who’s going with who began. the playful push and pull you and fred had... or what you thought you had... it was driving you mad.

“i’ll be back later, okay?”

oliver nods, easing the glass cup away from your hands so you can step out to take a breather. he watches as you walk along the sides and find a door to step out towards the grass and head towards the trees on the field. when he gazes back to the dance floor, he swears he sees a flash of ginger darting across and he just knows you’re not alone out there.

thump, thump, thump... sniff, muffled liveliness from the ballroom, heavy breathing... fred stands a couple of steps from you, watching as the tears fall from your eyes and your desperate attempts to stop crying. he hates how you still look breathtaking with the beauty of nature enveloping you, a gorgeous backdrop. you... you hate in your guts how your stomach somersaults at the sight of fred out here with you, the sight of the ballroom and twinkling lights behind him like a bokeh effect.

yet, you felt pathetic. you felt... a lot of things, being in this moment with him.

“are... are you alright?” fred knows it’s a weak and feeble attempt but he’s trying.

you don’t answer immediately. taking the time to breathe, to blink away the hot tears stinging your eyes, wiping your face with the back of your hand before you can glare at him to ask: “what does it have to do with you?”

perhaps it’s well-deserved. perhaps... he should’ve seen it coming. perhaps... fred weasley was simply in denial. in denial he could feel this much for a person, that maybe he was in it alone. that maybe, maybe selfishly, he was testing the waters so he wasn’t the only one who fell hard, alone.

“i care about you. i... i always have and–”

“then why?”

fred’s stumped again, shaking his head as a sign he doesn’t follow.

“why would you treat me like a last resort?”

at your words, fred’s furious. furious at the implications he’s mistakenly allowed you to assume. everything comes crashing down so fast, fred hadn’t realised he’s speaking before his mind stops him.

“you’re not!” his voice is louder than usual. he notices when you flinch, but the anger has gone to his head. he can’t stop now. “you were number one–the only one–you and only you.”

“you didn’t ask me!”

“i didn’t know you would go with ollie!”

he knows he’s hit the wrong nail when your face contorts with confusion. you visibly try to suck the tears in as you turn on your heels, willing to run from him. he watches as your hands grip onto your dress to lift the fabric up, body half-way turned from him. his heart stops, mind going blank; cold, static starts to ring in his ears to do something, fred weasley.

he’s allowed you to escape once. he’s not about to let it happen again.

just as you face the sea of trees ahead of you, you manage to take a couple of big steps to create a distance between you and fred, the arms that envelope you in holds you in place. literally... maybe... emotionally, too. the sound of surprise leaves your lips, a choked breath, the tears still trickling down as you slowly look down to see fred’s arms around you.

when you don’t shuffle away but instead lean into his embrace, fred lets out a shaky exhale and first whispers: “i’m sorry.” at your silence, fred feels like it’s an admission to listening to what he has to say. he feels you shaking in his grasp but... somehow moulding against him as your eyes flutter shut, breathing evening out past the sniffles and possibly blocked nose. he takes this opportunity to start talking.

“i... it’s going to sound absolutely shit but i asked angelina out because i was afraid to ask you.” he feels your body tensing–within good reason–but you don’t interrupt. your hands, gently placed over his covered arms around you, giving a small squeeze for him to continue. so he does. “i was afraid. afraid that you wouldn’t see me the way i see you and it’s... it’s such a coward move but i did it anyway.”

fred’s able to turn his cheek, just a little to get a glimpse of your side profile. even more of your face is revealed to him when you try to have a look at him, softly asking: “w-what about angelina?”

he sighs at you, “could you stop worrying about other people for a few minutes? you’re always so worried about the people around you that you–”fred stops in his tracks when you look away from him, huffing. it’s like you know what he said without him saying it.

with a deep breath out, fred retreats his arms from you to carefully turn you around. when you oblige and keep your eyes glued to his chest, fred gently grabs ahold of your hands. they come within your peripheral, admiring the way your hands fit in his so... so naturally. fred brushes the back of your hands with his thumbs, and it takes you a couple of seconds to realise he’s speaking.

“i’m so sorry for the way i’ve made you feel. and i’m sorry for giving you the impression that i thought no one would go to the yule ball with you. that would be mental considering i thought nearly half the castle would’ve asked you out.” fred only chuckles when you lightly kick his shin, well-aware of his jokes but you know fred genuinely thinks that based on his tone. over the years there had been one or two admirers but nothing more. they were just... admirers–reaffirming the one you wanted to be with was the same one holding onto your hands.

“i would like to redo my chance with you, if you’ll let me.”

fred can’t believe you have the nerve to be this adorable at a time like this because all you can think about is: “now?” your voice gives out to a soft crack, almost like a whine, "my makeup’s... i look ugly now...”

he scoffs a laugh, using one of his hands to cup your cheeks to brush away the couple of tears on your face. soon, he’s easing away the frown with a thumb that gently pokes the corner of your mouth. “you’d have to be mad to think i don’t think you look stunning. whether you have mascara or–what is that called–whatever that’s staining your face–”he ignores you when you gasp i have a stain on my face?”–because you could be dressed up in feathers and i’d still think you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve seen.”

you give him an answer with the way you lean into his palm, eyes lingering on his before they flutter shut. your erratic heart calms, the nerves eases ever so slightly when fred leans in to press a kiss to your forehead. almost immediately, it grants you to open your eyes and your heart somersaults when fred’s on one knee, a rose in his hand as he gazes up to you.

“y/n y/l/n, would you do me the honours and go to the yule ball with me?”

fred doesn’t poke fun at you with the tears welling in your eyes and the small frown on your face that still does nothing to your beauty. with the moonlight casting down on you and the angle fred looks up to, you look like an angel. cruelly holding him captive without trying, hooked around your fingers without effort.

you sniff, lightly wiggling your hand in his grip, the other nervously grasping your dress, “it’s almost the end of the night...”

“means there’s still time,” he grins, shaking your hand gently, “c’mon now, i’m not getting up until you give me an answer...”

fred knows you can’t wait long, especially when he’s down on one knee. he watches you debate on testing him but he knows you too well. too well that he’s rising to his feet the second you whisper of course i would. he allows you to accept the rose from his hand, only to maneuver your arms to put them around his waist where you’re able to admire the rose from over his shoulder as he tucks you into his embrace.

the silent of the night accompanies the pair of you, the glow of the moon and the muffled music from the ballroom behind. he’s aware that this isn’t him getting off the hook just yet (and he plans to make it up to you) but right now, with your head resting by his neck, arms loosely hugging him as you two quietly sway to the music you two can barely hear, fred wants to make the most of it as he closes his eyes and feel your warmth against him.

it might’ve not been the way he thought yule ball would’ve gone down but he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world even if it was just the last ten minutes with you.

((”you would think he’d have it in him to ask her in the first place,” angelina chuckles, with oliver in tow as her ‘new’ date.

“eh, good to know fred’s got one weakness.”

“d’you think we should tell the others?”

oliver thinks about it as he watches you at ease in fred’s arms. eyes fluttered shut, peaceful. for the first time, fred looks like he’s the calmest as he could be and oliver feels this kind of radiating warmth from within; two of his good friends, finally where they should be despite... a couple of bumps on the road. it seems like angelina knows oliver’s answer in his silence... that his vocal answer comes later to solidify her assumptions.

“nah, we’ll let them figure it out on their own. doesn’t look like it’s gonna take long for them to break the news.”

on cue, fred manages to spot the two of them from a distance. his shit-eating grin comes to view but it doesn’t faze oliver or angelina, only bringing out chuckles as fred playfully waves. when you notice something odd, fred plays it off by easily turning you around to avoid their gazes.

“cheeky prat.” angelina scoffs.

“as if you expected anything different.” oliver snorts.))

#fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #hp fanfics #harry potter fanfics #harry potter #harry potter stories

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aemondsluvr · 1 year

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I’m currently in my Adrian Pucey phase so please recommend some stories about him 😭😭 there’s not enough!!!!

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cloverwoodss · 11 months

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One of my favorite things is Harry and Necromancy. Not JUST Master of Death, like full on Necromancy.

I’ve almost read everything I can find on it that doesn’t have exclude tags attached to it I think 😭

If anyone knows of any please throw them at me at a very high velocity please 💖

#harry potter #necromancy #Harry Potter fanfics #please let there be more in addicted to this specific topic #gonna look more into Harry and Cannibalism next since APPARENTLY in the past 10+ years there’s actually been fics on topics of cannibalism

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mvnvgedmischief · 10 months

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new chapter of unremarkable days is out!

unremarkable days: Sirius black is trying to be a good man, a good brother, a good person. Sirius has a steady job designing book covers for a publishing house, a flat he never leaves, and a traumatized brother who was just removed from the custody of his parents. All in all, it's wildly unremarkable.

archive tags: Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Modern Marauders (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), ok so this is mostly just sirius trying to take care of a traumatized regulus, Modern AU, Sirius trying to be a father figureto his brother who was just removed from his home, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Artist Sirius Black, Writer Remus Lupin, Young Regulus Black, Past Child Abuse, Trauma, everyone is sad, Custody Battle, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Past Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Anorexia, Eating Disorders, Domestic Violence, sirius and severus are casually sleeping together, but snape is RELUCTANTLY in love with him, and sirius is like uh i am a bad person no, which is also why he and remus are just a situationship instead of dating at the beginning, but this is a wolf star fic

words: 74,467, chapters: 22/?

this is kind of my baby in terms of fics i’ve written, i love it so much. it will probably end up around 30 chapters, but lord knows. artist!sirius x writer!remus in a modern take on a high society young adult recovering from his fall from grace while trying to hide his sexuality, take care of his brother, and fall in love. will his secret self destruction be the only thing that stands between him and the future he wants?

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rinamorten · 1 year

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Till the war is over...

I don't know if I gonna translate this work... Do not know if you like it or not, but maybe you will... let me know if you want it.

So basically it's a very dark and angst work concentrated on Hermione struggles after being torture for a quite good time. So now she has all the information for Order to win. But was it worth it? Everything she went through...

Its a story about a fighter and a lost soul. And only Draco can keep her alive.

#dramione #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco x hermione #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 dramione #rina morten #draco malfoy & hermione granger #aesthetic #dramione fanfic #dramione angst #dramione aesthetic #dramione dark #aestheitcs #harry potter fanfics

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nerdmulti · 1 year

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“”I am the witch who helped Harry Potter and countless others bring down Voldemort

I am the daughter of Muggles, ensuring no other Muggleborn is denied a fair shake in this world

I am a fierce advocate for creature rights with more than a few welfare laws under my belt

And I am the women who is proud to be in the arms of Draco Malfoy.”” - Remain Nameless heyjude19

#dramione #remain nameless #heyjude19 #fanfic #harry potter #harry potter fanfics #the wizarding world of harry potter #book tumblr #hp books #book #books

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dethrxse · 8 months

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Y/N: FUCK MEEEE- (says out of anger)

Draco: Sure. Right now?

Y/N: I didn't meant that way you horny mf.

Draco: Well, that sounded more like it if you ask me..

Y/N: Like I said, you're just one horny mf.

Draco: >:(

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #x y/n #hp smut #smut #x y/n smut #harry potter fanfics #harry potter smut #hp #draco #smut story #headcanon #wattpad #draco smut #imagine #incorret quotes

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unfortunatevibes · 2 years

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hearing All the Young Dudes in the new motherfucking minion movie was not on my 2022 bucket list what the fuck

#all the young dudes #harry potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #peter pettigrew #the marauders #wolfstar #mwpp era #harry potter fanfics #wolfstar fanfiction #sirius and remus #literally almost made me cry in the theater #2022 bucket list

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draconabraxas · 2 years

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Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Order of the Phoenix, Molly Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Tonks Family (Harry Potter) Additional Tags: Draco Malfoy Has a Sibling, Draco Malfoy Has a Sister, Big Brother Draco Malfoy, Protective Draco Malfoy, Possessive Voldemort (Harry Potter), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, POV Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy-centric, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Good Parent Narcissa Black Malfoy, Morally Grey Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy is Not a Death Eater, Smart Draco Malfoy, Slow Burn Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy is Clueless About Muggle Things, Creepy Voldemort, Draco Malfoy is So Done, Draco is a momma's boy, Molly Weasley is like Draco's other mom, Morally Grey Order of the Phoenix, Established Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Draco Malfoy & Ginny Weasley Friendship, Ginny is like the cool auntie and Draco is the tired dad

Harry Potter can predict the future... apparently.

#draco malfoy defacto dad #harry potter fanfics #drarry fanfics #harry potter #drarry #draco malfoy centric fanfics #ao3 fics #draco malfoy #hp fics ao3 #drarry fics ao3 #new chapter!

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butterbeerblurbs · 2 years

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ahhh! i just read both of your dejavu stories, and ; -;. can i request a FLUFFY ff that follows fred and the reader's wedding - the engagement, the planning process (like picking out a dress with molly ; - ;), and the actual ceremony, if that's ok? THANK YOU! 🖤

askdjlkasdas oh my gODDDDD this is such a cute idea :") i am living for dejavu!reader with molly because... tell me otherwise i can'T HEAR YOU. i didn’t elaborate so much but kept it brief??? but i did try to indulge in a couple of ideas so hopefully that’s okay!! hope you enjoy this one, bub! <3

note: this got... much longer than i had anticipated but i hope you enjoy! :D

forever and a bit more after that (f.w.)

💌: fred thought his dream had came true when you agreed to marry him. the real dream was watching you walk down the aisle towards him. 📝 word count: 2,515 words / fred weasley x florist!reader / 🌸 wedding fluff :”) 💬: part of the dejavu!au/ff that i wrote but can be read as a stand-alone thing ✨i’m not sure how different it would be with the wizarding world but... let’s just roll with it lmao)

if there’s a quota to how many times molly has cried throughout the planning process for your wedding with fred, she went way over the count over and over and over again.

the preparations of your wedding was as seamless as they get. it was just a small ceremony at the burrow; a couple of close friends, family members and not much of a crowd but molly wanted it to be perfect. you had taken care of the flower arrangements (given it’s your nature, it would’ve been a sin not to) while the rest of the weasleys’ had it covered for you.

it felt like you were planning your fairytale. bit by bit, piecing it to come to life as you and fred chose out the napkins, lighting decor, color schemes (which happens to be a simple white with wooden features for a rustic overall look),

from picking out your dress which you said yes, this is absolutely perfect! which garnered a teary-eyed molly and ginny trying to keep her together to stop bursting into tears when they see you wearing the dress. it enveloped your body gorgeously, complimented your figure and they just know–without a doubt–fred weasley would start crying the moment he lay his eyes on you.

they were proven correct.

he did.

he barely lasted five seconds when the stepped out onto the aisle to walk towards him and george swears this is the only moment he would not make fun of his twin.

it felt near magical the moment you saw yourself in a white dress. standing in front of the mirror, watching how your body reacted to being in a wedding dress; you couldn’t stop smiling–neither could molly, ginny and hermione as they held their breaths. the first dress is always the giddiest one because it’s the first one you’re wearing. for the longest time, you’ve wanted to marry freddie–even though in between you thought you’d marry cedric–now, it was becoming a reality.

the boy who loved you silently while you chased for your happiness when your true happiness was by your side the entire time. the thought alone always makes you teary-eyed and now even more when you’re seeing your own reflection with the dress on.

“how’re you feelin’?” hermione asks softly, reaching out to pat your back as you stand on the podium with their eyes on you. the feeling was still surreal; never did you think you’d be here but everything felt right. you’re not even sure if this is the dress you’re gonna get but it still made the butterflies swarm free.

“the happiest i’ve been,” you whisper gently, sniffing the tears up because godric forbid you’d ruin your makeup. “i’ve wanted to marry freddie for the longest time and i just–”you catch molly’s eyes from behind you through the mirror and see that she’s trying to hold it together without bursting into an emotional volcano”–i can’t believe it’s happening.”

molly can’t help but tug you from the podium to embrace you. ginny and hermione following suit with quiet sounds of comfort and pure wholesomeness.

if fred was your rock, molly would be your lighthouse because she was there through every step. including choosing the flowers despite fred’s chastise of mum, y/n is literally a florist! i’m sure she knows what she wants!

it was the littlest things that made you feel anxious.

whether all the decor would come together or what if people don’t turn up? what if food gets wasted or there’s too much? what if this accident happens or that accident happens. it was testing your patience not to be a bride-zilla when you just wanted everything to be perfect.

it was somewhat evident the stress was getting to you. the wedding was in a couple of days and everything was set. what’s left is the preparations on the day itself and the setting up. apart from that, everything should be–should be–perfect.

of course, your brain wouldn’t allow you to think so. not even fred could manage to comfort you when it’s his (first) wedding too. that leaves you to sitting outside by the grass, watching fireflies float about into the night as the stars accompany you. you’ve decided to take a breather, telling fred you’d want to be alone and you would return back to his room in a bit. although fred was unwilling, he gave you a kiss and told you to come back to him when you’re ready.

there was no doubt in your mind you wanted to marry fred weasley... it’s just... the nerves, the anxiety, the worry. everything bottled up and as you stare at the engagement ring on your finger, it’s...

“i hope you’re not getting second thoughts there, lovely.”

you jolt lightly from being seated on the grass, looking over to–”hey...”

“mind if i join ya, sweetheart?” molly points to the vast emptiness, to which you pat a spot beside you, “i’d be delighted.”

molly takes a seat next to you, getting comfortable when you reach out to hug her arm and cuddle against her. she sighs, resting her cheek atop your head as the both of you stare across the horizon as the night envelopes the pair of you in.

“you’re always gonna worry, y/n.” she speaks softly, almost as if she understands what’s going through in your mind. then again, she probably does. “but it’s all gonna go away once you walk down that aisle and realise that regardless of what happens–be it getting a spill on your dress or a couple of people not turning up–the wedding will be for the main purpose it’s there for.”

you know she’s serious but you can’t help but–”the cake?”

“you cheeky bugger.”

“...what is it?”

molly sighs and nudges you away, so she can get a good look at you with a hand on your cheek, “marrying the one you love.”

she offers you a smile as her eyes gaze away from you, as if she’s reminded of what made her calm through her wedding day.

“that’s the only thing that matters.”

she notices the tension diminishing, yet there’s still a noticeable chokehold. the both of you slip back into your original position and molly leans against you, a hand patting the side of your arm as she hugs you from the side.

“the only thing you should be worrying about is if you have a groom that’s got cold feet and doesn’t show up on the day itself,” she speaks. “but by the looks of it, and knowing my son,” she peeks at you just as you look up to her with a small grin, “freddie’s been ready to marry you ever since he brought you back. so that boy isn’t running anywhere other than towards you for your hand in marriage.”

“so... what i’m getting here is... i have nothing to worry about?”

molly shakes her head with a smile.

“not even the cake?”

she’s reminded of who’s in charge of the cake–george–so she shrugs a little.

“maybe you can worry a little but–”

“not too much?” you finish her sentence, to which she pats your arm, “you’re a bright and smart witch, y/n. i’m sure you know that all of these worries are nothing but trivial. if something does happen, you should know by now us weasley’s get things done quickly.”

almost instantly, you’re reminded of the moments fred’s been quick on his feet whenever something goes south. a date spot that doesn’t turn out well? there was a plan b, spontaneous on the go. whenever you had imagined for doesn’t go as plan, fred was there to reassure you and come up with ways to change it up. ultimately, it was never about what the content was about but who was by your side. seeing fred’s face through it all was all that mattered.

molly’s words made you see the bigger picture and molly knows she’s done her job when you hug her arm and give it a tight squeeze.

“thank you, molly.”

“always a pleasure, dear.”

you enter fred’s bedroom to find your favorite ginger head in bed as he leans against the headboard, book on his lap with a pencil as he’s sketching up product ideas. george said he’ll bunk rooms with percy to give the to-be-wed lovebirds privacy. when you close the door behind you, fred’s already looking at you with a smile, noticing the change in your demeanour as you walk towards the bed.

he shifts about, ready to stand up from the bed but is confused when you carefully peel his book and pencil to set it on the side table. he welcomes it wholeheartedly when you climb onto the bed and straddle him, arms curling around his neck as you cocoon onto him. you feel one of his arms around your waist, reeling you in closer while the other reaches up to stroke the back of your head.

“i’m assuming mum’s given you a good chat?” fred murmurs into your hair, chuckling when you huff into his ear.

“how’d you always know?”

he makes you lean back so he can grin at you, “because if there’s one thing i know for sure, you’re marrying me because of my mum, too. then she’s our mum.”

your hands move to squish his cheeks, “our mum or not... i... she reminded me of the actual purpose of the wedding than worrying about all the other details.”

fred’s on the same wavelength as you as he squeezes your waist, brows perking, “not even the cake?”

“that’s what i said!” excitement got over you, and you remember to stay on track. you clear your throat, giving his head a light shake, “the purpose of the wedding is to marry the one i love. and as long as he’s not going anywhere, then...”

“are you suggesting i was gonna get cold feet?” he sounds offended. almost too offended.

“hey, no! that’s not what i–”

“you’d be mad to think i would get cold feet to not wanna marry you.” fred shifts up, making you squeak when he pushes you forward to have you pinned down below him as he hovers above you, ”d’you know how long i’ve waited to marry you?”

he shakes his head as he gazes down on you, a hand of his stroking your cheek, “almost too long, love. as long as you’re not going anywhere, neither am i.”

you move your hands to put your arms around his neck once more, this time, hooking your legs around his waist as well.

“i’m not going anywhere.”

fred smiles, leaning down with his lips merely brushing over yours, “then we have nothing to worry about.”

the actual wedding itself was a whirlpool of emotions; all waiting to combust the second you walk down the aisle and fred’s already teary-eyed watching as you head your way towards him. the veil thinly lacing your features, the glow of white that radiates from your skin to reflect the light onto your face; fred nearly forgets to breath but then he manages to chuckle when you two meet eyes.

george manages to root fred in reality with a hand on his shoulder, giving his twin brother a squeeze to make sure he doesn’t faint. now is the only time in their lives that george won’t make a joke. he knows like the back of his hand of how many sleepless nights fred’s had filled with what if’s and if only’s. too often, george has found fred staring at you in awe, quietly, yearningly.

now as george lets go of fred, it’s when you appear in front of him and fred shakily reaches out to unveil you. he sucks in a breath as you blink up to him, the faint makeup on your face as ginny helped you with it and the way your hair is tucked behind your ears with gorgeous tiny daises hermione has had a hand at pinning into your hair.

yet nothing, nothing can take away the sparkle in your eyes, growing glassy at the sight of his. you’re crying because he’s crying. and he’s crying because you’re crying. it’s a lose-lose, but a win-win at the same time.

everyone grows quiet, allowing fred’s croaky voice gently rake everyone’s heartstrings. you look stunning. i can’t believe i get to marry you after so long. they laugh when you huff and lightly punch his chest. my makeup is all ruined now and it’s your fault.

bill officiates the wedding. short and somewhat cryptic vows are exchanged with meanings only you and fred know of and so does everyone else even if they don’t necessarily know what it actually means. it moves so fast, yet so slow up until each second. fred pulls you in and holds you delicately. you feel the urgency rising as he cups your cheek to seal the band of your marriage; the unity resting on your finger as it circles around fred’s.

it felt like a dream come true. the miracle you had been waiting for.

with fred gazing into your eyes as they open after the kiss, the loud roars of cheer somehow mute out. fred enters the quiet space with you as he leans his forehead onto yours.

this was your happily ever after. it won’t be perfect, but it was yours, it was fred’s. when fred leans away and puts his hand in yours, fingers interlocking, it’s a promise that as long as the two of you walk alongside one another, hand-in-hand, there’s nothing you two can’t overcome.

((molly’s headed to bed, leaving fred alone by the dinner table that night... but... she came out shortly after when she heard sniffles down below. it was quiet, deep into the night where everyone’s gone to bed except for two. molly peers from the stairs, a crooked, skewed view between the steps to see her son on the floor, cradling you in his arms as the two of you squeal with joy.

there’s candles floating around the pair of you accompanied by the soft scent of roses in the air yet the thing that takes the entire scenario is the way you’re excitedly giggling as you wave your hand in front of fred’s face. molly squints and does her best to not fall down the steps, only to inch a bit closer to see–sparkle, sparkle–oh, oh my god.

molly has to put both hands on her mouth to stop herself from revealing she’s been spying. it–ring–wedding–fred had just proposed.

by the looks of it... you had said yes.

“i can’t believe i’m going to marry my best friend.”

“hey! that was my line!”

“i said it first!”

“no, you didn’t!”

molly quickly hurries into her room and pretends she doesn’t know anything. though, that night, molly wasn’t able to sleep properly knowing very well what was going to come the next morning. all she knows is, she has never felt happier for fred before. this... this definitely overtakes the joke’s shop and the day he brought you back to announce you two were dating.))

#fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter fanfics #this was so long overdue but #i stuck to it #im so happy #i hope you like it!!

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