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#harry potter fanfiction

Professor McGonagall keeps eyeing Draco who has already becoming a lifeless doll closely before she continues, “Since you were impatient, Mr Malfoy, I take it as you’re ready for my class?”

Draco stiffly answers with his eyes – which Harry has no inkling of how he manages to do so – before Professor McGonagall turns around and moves to the front of the class once again. “Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,” she says as she makes her way. “Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not comeback.”

The stillness of the class doubles once Professor McGonagall stands behind her table. And since all attention is on the professor, Harry can finally see her in her true form: Professor McGonagall is a severe-looking woman in her 50s, with square glasses the shape of the markings around cat’s eyes (though it doesn’t help decrease the fear factor on her face), and a neat black hair bun that causes her face to be pulled backward, adding more the severe-ness of her look.

Despite Harry doesn’t mind getting into trouble every now and then, he strongly rejects the idea of stepping on Professor McGonagall’s shoes.

She stares at her first-year students without expression. “You have been warned,” she says coldly to the class.

Then, as if this is her trick on every first-year Transfiguration class, she changes her desk into a pig and back again in a blink of an eye. And just like every other first-year before Harry, everyone seems in awe by the simple transfiguration and can’t wait to get the lesson started – which only to be let down hard once they’ve realised that particular transfiguration is not part of their lesson just yet. All they will be doing for the time being is jotting down complicated notes, much to their disappointment, but they dare not complain. Not to her at least.

However, the boring lesson takes an interesting turn when Professor McGonagall begins handing out matches to her students. “Each of you is given a match,” she says after every student has gotten a match in his and her hand, “You shall now turn the wooden match into a needle before the class ends. You shall begin.” And on that queue, the graveyard classroom becomes chaotic with all the students reciting the same spell on different tones and volumes (a Hufflepuff student thought by screaming the spell on top of his lungs would make the spell more effective, only to earn a good scolding from Professor McGonagall).

“Alright,” Harry breaks his silence after all this while, “Let’s focus now.”

Draco glances at Harry with furrowed face. He likes to see the outcome of Harry’s attempt before he makes his own – for safety purposes, he likes to believe himself.

“You remember this, Harry. Your old man has taught you this. You know it all too well. You just need to practice it now,” Harry tries to psyche himself as he readies his wand in his hand while his eyes firmly planted on the match stick before him. Draco watches from his seat silently.

Once he feels much confident, he starts chanting the spell properly, down to the right intonation, and flicks his wand to the wooden match. And to both Harry’s and Draco’s surprise, the brown match stick gradually but steadily turns itself into a silver, pointy needle right before their eyes.

Draco can’t help himself but to utter “Wicked” involuntarily but loudly, loud enough to catch the attention of Professor McGonagall who has been eyeing her students like a hawk.

“Attention, class! It seems Mr Potter has succeed in turning his match into a needle. 10 points for Slytherin,” she calmly claims, but this time with a sincere warm smile given to Harry solely. Harry smiles back, feeling contented himself for his achievement.

Suddenly, Harry remembers the words his father had told him the night before his departure to Hogwarts. “And there’s Professor McGonagall. A good teacher, but a nasty one if you step on her wrong foot,” James explained to Harry, “Hard to impress, especially in your first year. So, don’t need to pressure yourself when it comes to her. All I could do to grab her attention in my first year was hiding Mrs Norris in the girl’s toilet.”

In your face, old man, Harry proudly mocks James Potter in his head. A soft, smug smile dons on his lips.

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Y/N = Your Name
Y/F/F = Your Favourite Flower

Word count: 6,933

Wow, this was so much longer than what I normally write but I am in love with Marcus Flint soooooo… I hope you all can enjoy this because I put in a lot of time and effort to make this great! Don’t forget to send in ideas or requests! I want to be able to write more and just more of what y'all would like to see!


I was one year behind Flint, but one year ahead of Adrien Pucey who was my next door neighbour. My older brother Duncan was best friends with Adrien’s second eldest brother and so naturally him and I became friends. My brother was such a huge Quidditch nerd and that passed down to me, so I always heard about their practices and games. The family even went to a few of the Hogwarts games. My eldest brother was already off playing Quidditch with the Falmouth Falcons and well on his way into earning a spot on the Irish National Quidditch Team.
Despite my big-ish family, there was just three kids in total; my eldest brother Cillian, followed by Duncan, and then me… the only girl. I was definitely the favourite, being not just the youngest but the only girl. I was beloved, and it wasn’t any different when I got my acceptance letter from Hogwarts.

It was September 1st, my first day going to the school everyone in my family had attended before I. We said our goodbye, despite the gross stares from the more “traditional” and “good” wizarding families. Mum was crying as she hugged my 11 year old body, not wanting to let go so I didn’t grow up. Dad eventually pulled her up and Duncan promised to always make sure I was okay. He WANTED me to be his shadow, something not many would believe. He had a moral obligation to protect me, an obligation I didn’t quite understand until later in my life.
Both of us made our way to what Duncan called the “Slytherin Car”. He held the door open for me, and all I saw were many clad in green robes, scarves, and hats. I was in awe when my thoughts were swiftly interrupted.
“Oi, Blackwell. No first years in the car.” A black haired boy hollered from our left side of the car.
“Piss off Flint, we all know you would’ve came in your pants to be here last year,” Duncan stated, “C'mon, I sit in the back.” I followed suit as my brother shoved people out of the way to get to his usual seat, but not before both of us shot that boy a glance that made him turn paler than he already was. All I could hear behind me were taunts and laughs being hurled at this boy. My brother and I sat and his friends quickly took me under their wings. I was quickly becoming their favourite as well.
The Sorting Ceremony was well off, and my name was suddenly called. The entire dining hall fell silent, then whispers. I took my seat on the stool and McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on my head.
“Ah yes, a Blackwell. I could simply sort you Slytherin…but that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?” the hat started.
My brother was intently staring in my direction.
“The brilliant wit of a Ravenclaw, I suppose you’ll be the brightest witch in your year… Or perhaps Gryffindor, you would make a brilliant Gryffindor…”
My brothers eyes widened at the words the hat was saying, a Blackwell has never been anything except Slytherin.
“My my dear, you are one big puzzle for a first year.” The hat was pensive, contemplating everything placed before them. This ordeal of analysing intently went on for about six and a half minutes. Duncan was gripping the table and bouncing his leg.
“My dear you stumped me, but no matter which house you’d be put in, they would be extremely lucky to have you to their name, but alas I have finally made a decision… SLYTHERIN!”
The Slytherin table erupted in cheers, my brother and his friends were the first to shoot up from the table. McGonagall took the hat off of my head and I made my way to sit beside my brother as he hugged me and the table couldn’t keep their glee under control.
My first year went off without a hitch, but I always had to hear my brother and his friends complain about the boy named Flint. He made the Quidditch team and just annoys everyone. According to the boys, he really tries to get with every girl he can. We were all talking about Quidditch and school around the fireplace in the common room. Suddenly Flint walked in with a smug look on his face, the boys just laughed in a tone of unison, they knew what he just finished up doing.
My brother smirked and looked at me, “I can’t wait for you to be a second year so you can make the Quidditch team and put Flint in his place more than you do already.” My brother said as he sent a wink to Flint whose smile faded from his face.
“At least I’m not a shadow to my family, unlike *her*.” Flint said gesturing to me
Duncan was ready to say something but I shot back, “At least I don’t look like I’m half troll. Do the girls only talk to you because they feel bad?” I replied with a look of “concern” on my face, my lips lowering into a sarcastic frown. The boys around me started to giggle.
“Believe it or not, girls actually want ~this~” Flint replied, gesturing to himself.
“With teeth like yours, I wouldn’t want to even think about snogging you.” I replied as I cocked my eyebrow.
The boys around me bursted into laughter as Flint became flustered.
“Flint you better leave before you get burned more. We wouldn’t want to see you have to go to Madam Pomfrey to treat those burns.” Duncan said before he laughed harder than before. Flint rushed to his dorm. Laughter grew and grew from all of us, filling the common room with loud hoots and hollers. This won’t be the last Flint will try to rile me up.

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Shifted— ch 6


Hermione spent the next few days trying to pinpoint the exact, pivotal moment her viewpoint had altered.

For a moment, she believed it was in the Department of Mysteries, when a deadly curse was thrown at her and she survived based on a technicality. But still, she knew it had happened before then.

It could have been in fourth year, when Harry came back with Cedric Diggory’s lifeless body. But she watched the light sink out of Harry’s eyes day by day afterwards, and when she watched her very first dead body fall in the heat of battle, it felt nothing like what he’d described.

If she was honest— painfully, gruesomely willing to tell the truth to herself— she could pin it back to third year. When slapping Malfoy in the face was a more religious experience than any Sunday Bible study had ever given her.

It was her first real experience in violence, her first taste on what inflicting physical pain on another was like.

Her adrenaline had been pumping afterwards, blood singing through her veins as she listened to the pained, pathetic whimpers of Malfoy as he ran away, frightened.

Scared. Of her.

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While I’m writing my Marlene McKinnon fanfiction I’ve come to realise that the worst part of writing a long fanfic is the beginning. All I want to do is write but I want to write the middle when all the shit starts happening.

So expect me to try to get through the first few years at Hogwarts as fast as I possibly can

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Originally posted by imagineseverywhere

Hello and welcome to another Fred fic.  I swear I do too many pics involving the Yule Ball.  Hope you enjoy. :)

warnings: mentions of food

word count: 1,447

When news of the Yule Ball spread, you about choked on your own tongue. You were at a time in your life where your personal life was already complicated enough, let alone adding a huge social event on top of it.  Despite this, you had been informally seeing Fred outside of your already close friendship for some time now, nearing a year, actually, and you had no idea what you were to him.

You often shared kisses and affection like it was going out of style, only whenever you were in private, but you frequently told each other how much the other meant to you, but you were not labelled, or serious, you could even say, because outside of the Golden Trio and the Weasley siblings, no one really knew of your untold relationship.  You were just… together.  

A week or so after the announcement of the Yule Ball, as you ate breakfast with your closest friends, Ginny, Fred, and George, you got a rather large parcel from your mother.  Your face turned as red as their hair when it landed in front of you, crushing your toast and jam as if it were nothing, and you watched as your mother’s owl fled the building as if it knew you were going to be petrified.  “Oh, no,” you whispered to yourself as your friends watched with curious eyes.  You looked at the splattered jam on the table and huffed as well.  “Bloody bird has no boundaries,” you also muttered as you examined the jam also on your sweater.

Fred and George cackled at the incident, and even Ginny giggled a little bit at your splattered breakfast.  After a moment of silence from you passed, with you just sitting and staring at nothing with your hands on the table next to the parcel, Fred spoke up with the same smirk on his lips.  “Well, aren’t you going to open it?”  He asked you with humor laced all through his voice.

With your lips slightly parted, you snatched the parcel up in your arms, shaking your head.  “Ah, no, I am not.  It’s my Yule Ball dress,” you said quickly despite the fact that you were getting jam all over the sleeves of your sweater now, on top of the splattered jam just about everywhere else, and you still held it to your body as if it were gold.  There was no way you were going to let anyone see you in the dress before the ball.

Excitedly, Ginny gasped.  “Oh!  I want to see!” she exclaimed and reached for the package, but you swung out of her reach like a child and stood from the table with a smile playing upon your lips.

“Absolutely not,” you argued with her as the twins watched you curiously and humorously.  “I am going to debut it the night of the ball, of course.  I don’t want anyone to see it beforehand,” you explained lamely, trying to ease the situation you have created by yourself.  You knew you were making a big deal out of nothing, but it was your preference.

George tilted his head to the side slightly, an amused look on his face. “Have you already got a date?” he asked you as you checked your watch for the time. Luckily, you had time before the group left for Hogsmeade to change and hide your dress away somewhere deep in your dormitory.

Again, you sighed with an annoyed look on your face.  “No,” you answered stubbornly and glanced at Fred, who was equally as amused.  Ginny laughed quietly, knowing exactly what you were getting at.

Fred snickered at you.  “Why are you hiding your dress if you don’t even have a date, yet, you loon?”  He asked you sassily and as a smirk formed maliciously on your face, you watched as his own smile left his handsome features. Oh, he left this opportunity out in the open.

George had already begun laughing before you even had begun to speak. “Well, if the guy I have been seeing rather often lately would just man up and ask me, then I would truly have a reason to hide it, wouldn’t I?” you questioned Fred hypothetically and sarcastically with a smug smile on your lips that made him turn red in the face.  After you had finished speaking, Ginny and George were cackling as you turned on your heels, leaving the Great Hall triumphantly.  


A few days later, after your longest day of classes of the week, you trudged towards your dormitory, ready to go to bed for the night and skip out of dinner, like you shamefully usually did.  As you walked, you noticed that most people were actually heading to the Great Hall already, meaning you might actually be able to fall asleep quickly.

Before you were even into your doorway yet, you were already kicking our shoes into the room and pulling the cloak you wore off, discarding it on the trunk at the bottom of your bed.  But after you did this, you froze in your spot and your heart about launched out of your chest.  “Fred! You scared the bones out of me,” you scolded the boy who leaned against one of your four posts with a smile on his face.  Dramatically, you held your hand to your heart.  

“I’ve become rather good at that, haven’t I?”  He asked you softly and calmly, which was slightly out of his normal demeanor.  As you approached him, he held his hand out for you to take, and you did.  You allowed him to pull you into him and he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.  “I got you something,” he told you after a moment of silence and you pulled back, looking at him curiously.  

Fred pulled away entirely, digging into the pocket of his black slacks and fished something out that he held in his hand.  “I should have done this long ago, and I am incredibly sorry for leading you on this long,” he began to explain and you only became further confused, tilting your head to the side.  “My mum told me that when a girl is special enough to stay by your side, even when you do the stupidest of things, then you need to keep her.”  He paused, trying to articulate his words but you could tell that he was struggling with it. He sighed, a small smile on his lips, and continued, “I suppose what I am trying to get at is that I would really like to be able to call you my girlfriend to, you know, everyone.  At the Yule Ball and all.”  Fred ducked his head quickly, his face redder then you had ever seen in your time of knowing him.

Your heart was thudding in your chest as he spoke and you found yourself falling in love with him so quickly.  With a smile playing on your lips, you gave him a shallow nod.  “I’d really like that, too,” you agreed softly and Fred smiled widely, taking your hand and placing something cool in it as he brought you close to him, kissing the top of his head.

“I hope it matches your mystery dress,” he nervously teased you as you opened your hand out of curiosity and gasping the moment your eyes landed on the silver necklace in your hand.  “When I was speaking with my mum about you, she suggested I give you a gift to make up for being such a coward.  It’s a family heirloom, actually,” he added, obviously proud of himself.  “I just added a little to it.”

The silver necklace held a small, beautiful red gem in a sleek clasp, engraved with a FW on the back, which was your favorite part by far.  “Fred, you didn’t have to do that,” you murmured, looking at him with the biggest eyes he had ever seen, and he only smiled.  You were at a loss for words, and couldn’t believe that he cared that much.

He kissed the top of your head once more, and you looked up to him again, away from the necklace, and you kissed him hard, wrapping your arm around his shoulders to bring his lips down to yours.  Fred chuckled into the kiss, pulling away and taking the necklace from your hand.  “Go, on. Turn around,” he instructed and you laughed, doing as you were told, and you felt the cool metal against your skin as he clasped it into place. “Perfect,” Fred murmured to himself as he caught view of you in your roommate’s mirror across the room.

“By the way, it matches my dress well.”

durmstrange’s Taglist:  @starlightweasley@theweasleysredhair@whiz-bangs78@hufflepuffgirly @tonksichu@toomanybandstocare​​ @mentally-in-northern-italy​​ @alwaysasadaesthetic​​ @through-the-little-door @clandestinecherry

Weasley Twins Taglist: @wand3ringr0s3@kpopgirlbtssvt

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Written for Wolfstar Holidays 2020. I hope you enjoy and thanks @remus-john-lupin​ for the list!

Prompt: Reindeer Games

❄️ ❄️ ❄️

December 17, 1975

Ever since the marauders found about Remus’ “furry little problem,” they wanted to figure out a way to help him. There wasn’t a cure (and you better believe they tried to find one), but they could make the transformations a little less lonely and hopefully less taxing on him because of that. It took three years, but they finally figured out how to do it. During the time between the August and September full moons, they held the mandrake leaves in their mouths. They brewed the potions and hid them. They said the incantations every night. Then, finally, an electrical storm came the night before, just in time for the December full moon, which was the next day. And they managed it. Now, they were animagi, and it was time to show Remus.

“Are you ready, lads?” James whispered.

Sirius huddled with James and Peter by the door to their dorm, where they knew Remus was inside resting in preparation for his body to rearrange like it did every month. 

Sirius and Peter nodded, and they all burst through the door, too excited to be quiet. 

Remus instantly cringed at the loud bang. “Guys, volume,” he groaned, pulling the covers up higher over his shoulders. 

“Sorry, Remus,” Sirius said as sheepishly as he could despite his grin. “We’re just excited.”

“Should we say it, or just do it?” James asked. 

Sirius cocked his head as if that was a dumb question. “Just do it, obviously.” 

Remus groaned again and sat up. “Oh Merlin, what did you three do? Keep in mind that I’m a Prefect now when you answer that.”

“Oh, you’re definitely going to want to know this,” Peter squeaked, unable to contain his excitement either. 

“Alright, out with it then.”

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George Weasley x Reader

Gender: female

House: not specified

Summary: You have a nightmare and go to your boyfriend George Weasley’s room for comfort. It’s short, but it’s v cute and fluffy and I love it a lot.

Warnings: nightmare, bit of brutal depiction? idk, it’s pretty fluffy.

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A/N- Hey guys! Thank you all so much for liking my Fred one shots so much on the advent calendar so far. I realise I can’t write for Freddie everyday as part of the series, but what I can do is post the series I have been working on for you to dive into and enjoy in the meantime. I did start posting this to wattpad, but lets be honest I’m a tumblr girl through and through. It’s a bit of a love story with a twist, I hope you enjoy.


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Pairing: Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Warning: Some fluff and some angst let’s go

A/N: Haven’t written wolfstaf before cause I’m scared I won’t do them justice but this idea has been jumping round my brain for a while. Hope you enjoy :)


May 13th 1975

“Sirius! I mean it, if you don’t pack now you’ll have to do it after the feast and you know you’re going to be too tired,” Remus nagged, throwing a pair of bunched up socks at Sirius, who was laying on his bed, head resting on top of his arm as he watched his boyfriend pack his own trunk.

Sirius just shrugged “I’m already tired,” he complained. “Why don’t you come over here and help me wake up,” he added with a wink.

Remus rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

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christmas cookies {g.w.}

pairing - george weasley x reader

summary - you and george bake cookies together

warnings - none


“i don’t understand this.”

you turned to your boyfriend who was leaning against the counter to read over a recipe.

“george we’re making christmas cookies, not potions. what don’t you understand?”

“i don’t know. it just doesn’t make any sense. what does baking soda even do?” george questioned. you let out a light laugh. “it’s so the cookies can be fluffy and not rock hard.”

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A request from @notgredweasley based on #4 from my prompt list

Send me more requests here, I’d love to write something for you!

It was a well known fact that Remus Lupin was deathly afraid of heights, which is precisely why, upon stuffing the tallest Christmas tree possible in the Great Hall, Sirius nominated him to pin the star on top. 

It started as a joke, really; didn’t Dumbledore just charm a star on the tree? But the more Sirius harassed Remus about it, the more the idea caught on, and soon enough, Sirius, Remus, and James were standing at the bottom of the tree, star in hand, ready to decorate.

“I can’t go up there,” Remus said, tipping his head back to look at the top of the tree. It might as well have been on the top of Mount Everest. He already felt queasy.

Sirius clapped his back, and Remus gulped. “Sure you can. You gotta face your fears eventually, Moony. What better way than to spread some Christmas cheer while you’re at it?”

“I can spread plenty of Christmas cheer if I use my wand to put the star up,” Remus rebuked, reaching into his robes.

James stole the wand out from under his fingers and shook his head. “That’s cheating. You’ve got a perfectly good ladder right here. Get up there.”

Remus arched one eyebrow. There was nothing perfect about this ladder. It was rickety and crudely repaired at best from where the wood had rotted away, and it leaned precariously against the wall like it was liable to fall over any minute.

With James standing like a military sentinel, Remus’ only chance at escaping a most disastrous fate was to win Sirius over. He turned to his boyfriend, making sure his eyes drooped and his bottom lip was stuck out just right before he pleaded for his life. “Please don’t make me go up there.”

For a second, Remus thought Sirius was going to buy it. His mouth puckered and he ran his tongue over his lips, but then he rocked on the balls of his feet and swooped in to plant a swift kiss to Remus’ cheek. “I promise I’ll catch you if you fall.”

Remus huffed, clutching the stupid star against his chest and propping his leg up on the first rung of the ladder. “If I die, I’m haunting you first.”

“You can be the Ghost of Christmas past!” James smirked.

“Yeah, and I’m gonna tell you guys to go fuck yourselves for this.”

With every step, Remus looked down, his death only growing more certain as Sirius and James grew smaller and smaller. The ladder wiggled a little and he gasped, clinging to the wood for dear life. From down below, he vaguely heard Sirius yell at James to knock it off.

“You’re doing great!” Sirius encouraged, shouting up at Remus with his hands cupped around his mouth. “Almost there!”

“Next year, I’m picking the tree!” Remus exclaimed, swallowing his fear and pushing up to the next rung. He was almost at the top now. “It’s going to be small and fat and no ladders necessary. And it’s going to be fun.”

James crossed his arms on his chest. “This is fun.”

“This is not fun, James Potter!”

Remus climbed one last step until he was eye-level with the top of the tree. With shaking fingers, he reached over and jammed the star on the peak, immediately starting to make his way down without even stopping to admire his handiwork.

“Remus, it’s crooked!” James called up, failing to stifle his laughter.

“Try a little more to the left,” Sirius encouraged, trying to sound supportive through his fits of giggles.

Not in the mood to waste time arguing, Remus scrambled back up the ladder and poked the star. It didn’t look that crooked from here, but from the scoffing echoing below him, he knew something was off.

“Your other left.”

Poor Remus Lupin. Afraid of heights and unable to remember his lefts and rights. Dropping out of Hogwarts seemed like a good plan right about now.

Adjusting the star according to James and Sirius’ direction, Remus’ hands ached from where his white knuckles clung to the ladder.

“Is it good now?” He asked, hardly waiting for an answer before his shaking knees clambered down the rungs.

James hummed. “Looks great, Moony! Don’t you feel better after facing your fears?”

“No!” Remus shouted, “I feel like I’m gonna puke.”

“Do it on James,” Sirius encouraged, yelping as he was shoved backwards. He stumbled, trying to keep his feet under him, but fell into the ladder, knocking it off balance and sending it careening towards the floor.

Remus felt everything happen in slow motion. The ladder went one way and his body the other. There was nothing for him to hold on to, nothing to break his fall. This was it. This was really how he was about to die. Death from a Christmas star. Unbelievable. He didn’t even have time to scream as he fell to the ground. He thought his life, at least, might flash before his eyes, but all of a sudden, the only thing he could see was Sirius’ eyes looking down at him, a teasing smile tugging on his lips.

He wasn’t dead. His heart was slamming against his ribs too quickly for him to be dead.

“I told you I’d catch you if you fell,” Sirius said with a wink, kissing his forehead. Two strong arms held Remus, one hand under his knees, the other along his back; he was safe, but just a few inches from death.

Remus pushed out of Sirius’ embrace and looked at the fallen ladder, the enormous tree, and the straight star.

James clapped enthusiastically, nudging his glasses further up his nose. “I give that stunt a ten out of ten.”

“I’m going to give you a five second head start,” Remus said calmly, brushing off his robes and straightening his tie. “And then I’m going to kill both of you.”

Sirius and James shared a glance, rolling their eyes. Remus was as threatening as a teddy bear. James propped his hands on his hips and Sirius raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to do his worst.

“One,” Remus counted, spreading his feet wide and finding a good hold on the wood floor. James wasn’t fazed. “Two.” Remus lowered himself to the ground, ready to sprint. Sirius slowly straightened up, batting James’ arm. “Three.” Teeth bared, Remus’ shoes squeaked as he readied himself for the chase. Sirius and James backed up, for the first time realizing their lives might be in danger.

Before Remus count murmur the next number, Sirius and James were sprinting out of the Great Hall, screaming all the while, pushing each other left and right to squeeze through the doors first.

“I’m too young to die, Remus!” James yelled over his shoulder, throwing Sirius down. “Take him instead!”

Sirius sputtered, “you can’t kill your boyfriend! That’s, like, against the rules! James, wait!”

When the boys were safely out of the Hall, Remus stood up and sighed, as if he hadn’t just threatened his friends’ lives. Instead of chasing them, he walked over to the long banquet table in the front of the room and poured himself a cup of tea, smiling as their screams and hurried footsteps echoed in the castle.

Happy Christmas. Let the haunting begin.

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George Weasley x Reader

Gender: not specified

House: not specified

Summary: You’ve been trying to keep your feelings bottled up, but when George Weasley admits he’s in love with you, everything explodes out of you.

Warnings: depression, parental issues, angst

A/N: I was hoping to get this posted yesterday, but I started to lack motivation halfway through. Sorry!

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Warning: Smut (18+), swearing, fingering | 2.7k word count | Requested (x2)

Summary: Being one of only two students to get a D in your Potions exam, and therefore also a disappointment to the Potter family, Snape had bought it to your attention that extra tuition was going to be needed. However unfortunately enough, these extra tuition lessons would also be shared with you and your brother’s arch-nemesis of six years, Draco Malfoy.

Note: Snape has been substituted in place of Slughorn, just to make the story flow a bit better.


“You two are failing miserably.” Snape held up the test papers your Potions class had taken recently, a scowl etched across his face. A large red ’D’ was scrawled across both papers, indicating that you and Draco had both been the only two in the class to get a ‘Dreadful’ score.

Draco clicked his tongue at the teacher, snatching the paper out of his hand and taking a quick flick through it, little interest in his movements. Snape’s lip curled in annoyance at the disrespect, but he said nothing.

“Starting from today, you will both receive an extra hour of tuition per day after your lessons.” Draco was about to slam down his hand on the desk, opening his mouth to make a snarky remark along the lines of his father hearing about it, but Snape quickly glared in his direction. The whole classroom was plunged into a deep silence.

“No ifs or buts, Malfoy.” He turned his stiff neck towards you. “And no complaints from you either, Miss Potter.” You nodded, thoroughly ashamed of your awful Potions mark. You could already imagine how displeased Harry would be to hear about it, especially since Draco had been the only one to fail just as miserably as you did. You had tried doing anything in your will to uphold the Potters’ reputation.

Draco glanced sideways at you, and in that moment you could feel the pure hatred radiating off of him. You were going to have to sit next with him and Snape everyday for goodness knows how long. Just the thought alone was enough to make you cry.

“Cat got your tongue, Y/N?” Draco piped up, a mocking eyebrow raised. “Don’t you have anything to say about this, or are you just as much of a wimp as your brother?” His low chuckled reverberated across the room. Snape didn’t even try stopping the blond student, inured to his rude comments.

“Unlike you, Malfoy, I am actually willing to learn from my mistakes.” You retorted, having to plaster a slight smirk on your lips in defiance. You could never let your guard down around him as he took every opportunity possible to strike you and your brother down. “Don’t you want to do well in class, or are you just as thick-skulled as your father? He won’t always be there to support you, you know.” You glanced away, tucking a strand of H/C hair behind your ear innocently. That would shut him up for a while.

“No time for irrelevant conversations like these. No wonder you hopeless fools got terrible marks.” Snape snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “You both spend too much time thinking of new insults to use against each other, rather than concentrating on the actual lesson itself.” You fidgeted slightly at the exposing comment.

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Draco’s lip curled as he turned his head away from Snape to look at a cabinet on the other side of the room, filled with all kinds of potions and ingredients.

“Get out your textbooks. As your Potions class was meant to be your final lesson of the day, we’ll go straight into your extra tutorial.” The black haired male walked back over to his desk and flicked through the wispy paper pages, turning to a page with the corner turned over slightly. “Both of you scored no marks on the Amortentia potion, so we will start with that. Page two hundred and twenty six.”

You flipped the yellowed pages of your own textbook, landing exactly on a recipe for what Snape had instructed. You remembered studying this exact page for hours in the library, trying to force the list of ingredients and method into your brain. Clearly, your cramming hadn’t worked.

“Sit down, both of you. You won’t be making it today, as your brains seem to be a lot slower at absorbing information than the rest of your peers. We will start with the basics.” Draco and you pushed aside the cauldrons sitting upon the table in front of you and sat down on the hard wooden bench tucked underneath it. Static tension rose in the air as the two of you jostled around, elbows knocking against each other due to the small amount of space on the bench.

“Someone would’ve thought you have a crush on me with how much you’re pressing yourself against me, Y/N.” Draco whispered, so only you could hear. You threw a disgusted look in his direction.

“You wish, Malfoy.” A heated red blush painted your cheeks, hopelessly betraying yours words. He snickered, turning back to his textbook and finding the page.

Snape pulled open an ancient mahogany cabinet behind his scuffed desk, tracing a finger along the shelves of various ingredients. He pulled out a few bottles of vibrant liquids and unique-looking solids, carefully placing them on the front of his desk, just so you and Draco could see them from afar.

“Y/N, give me the name of some of these ingredients. Without looking at your books, I should ask.” Snape said, voice completely monotone. You hesitated, scanning the row of bottles for any familiar ingredients.

“Uhm, rose thorns and rose petals?” You replied, voice high pitched with hesitancy.

Snape raised an eyebrow, a slight surprise on his face.

“Correct. Draco, what about you?”

Draco sat in silence, his eyes darting around slightly. He didn’t know.

“Hemlock.” His voice showed no doubt, as usual. Snape slapped the desk with a knuckle, his forehead scrunching in frustration.

“No, stupid boy! That’s only used in Doxycide.” Draco scoffed and looked down, obviously disgruntled by Snape’s harshness.

“Let’s start with the list of ingredients and their amounts, and then move onto the process of making it.” Snape called, turning his back to the two students and picking up the piece of chalk that lay by the large blackboard. “I expect you to be making thorough notes while I’m explaining this.” You nodded, taking your quill in your hand and putting pieces of parchment in front of you.

Mid-way through writing your sentence, you felt something warm touching your leg.

You shot a glare at the blond male next to you, who kept a straight face and continued writing his notes nonchalantly.

“Oi!” You murmured, shooing away his hand with the end of your quill. He didn’t remove it, but instead bought it further up, curving dangerously into your inner thigh area. You sat there, astounded at his nerve. You had hated each other for all of the past six years - it wasn’t meant to be like this!

Snape droned on at the front of the classroom, talking endlessly about Amortentia and the countless effects of it. Draco paused writing, obviously concentrating on something else now. You sucked in a breath as he slipped his hand up to your heat, a smirk plastered on his lips. He used two fingers to rub slightly over your panties, making you squirm. If you allowed him to continue any further, he would soon be able to feel how his touch was making you feel.

You coughed loudly, causing Snape to pause his scribbling to turn and stare at you. Draco shot his head down, pretending to be a perfectly good student, but made no move to stop his fingers. Snape raised an eyebrow but eventually turned around to continue his boring lecture.

In punishment for trying to catch him off-guard, Malfoy moved his fingers faster, making your legs tremble slightly.

“Shit.” You mumbled under your breath, partially to release the pent up satisfaction but also now knowing your panties were soaked at the hands of your old enemy. He chuckled, sending you a smug sideways glance.

Suddenly, the crooked wooden door at the back of the classroom swung open, revealing Professor McGonagall.

“Severus, we need your help in the infirmary.” Her voice was wobbly and laced with urgency. “Please, come quick.” Snape nodded, irritation tainting his face. He gathered up the ingredient bottles and lined them back up in the cabinet, slamming shut his notebook and sliding it back onto the bookshelf.

He followed McGonagall to the door and briefly turned around as Draco and you still sat at your desks, confusion etched onto your faces.

“I’ll most likely be back in about half an hour. Be patient, and please, don’t get into a fight.” You nodded, watching as Snape slammed the classroom door closed behind himself.

For a few minutes, only silence filled the stark air. What were you even meant to do, trapped in here for half an hour? Your eyes trailed over to Draco, locking with those crystal blue orbs as he sat watching you intently.

“What the fuck was that for, Draco?” You questioned, utterly bewildered by him. “You can’t just start fingering someone, you know? That’s certainly not how school works, and I’m not one of your little play toys for whenever you’re bored.” You slammed the textbook on the desk in front of you closed and shoved it into your bag, along with your quill and papers. You didn’t care if you would get a detention for it, you needed to get out of there as quickly as possible before the scene escalated.

Draco abruptly stood up, blocking your path to the door. You looked down, swallowing the lump in your throat as your eyes widened in shock.

His trousers had clearly tented around his crotch-area, and he made no effort to cover it.

“You know, most of my ‘little play toys’ don’t make me feel like this.” He scoffed, almost embarrassed at admitting it to his rival. “My my, I already know how disappointed my father would be for looking like this in front of a Potter.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s fine by me! If you don’t want to be near me and my brother, then don’t come near us! I’m perfectly happy just staying as we were before.” You shouted, trying to dodge the blond and approach the door to leave. He wasn’t having any of it.

He gripped your neck, slamming you against the stone wall of the classroom. You dropped your bag, staring at him down the bridge of your nose.

“I hate you so much, Potter.” He murmured before smashing his lips onto yours, the kiss passionate and heated at first but soon melting into a more comfortable rhythm. With a hand still around your neck, his other one roamed your body, slipping up your loose white shirt and resting on one cup of your bra.

You tried to pull away, cheeks extremely flushed now. You weren’t even sure what to say - deep down, your heart was betraying you. It felt good, but your mind was endlessly trying to warn you.

Draco removed the hand from your chest and put a finger on your chin, pulling it up so that you looked him straight in those cerulean eyes.

“Stop trying to convince yourself that you hate me, Y/N. We both know that wasn’t how you were feeling earlier.” Your mouth hung open, unamused that he decided to step into that territory. He laughed, placing a thumb on your bottom lip and rolling it slightly. Lust filled Draco’s eyes as he watched it bounce slightly from his touch.

He was right. If it had been anyone else, you would have stormed straight out of the classroom without a single hesitation. You pressed your lips against his own once again and pushed yourself against him, feeling his hardness against your abdomen. He groaned, leaving your lips and trailing feather-light kisses down your neck and eventually stopping at your collarbone. You gasped aloud as he sucked, leaving small purple bruises here and there.

“You’re the one who wants me, don’t get confused just because I’m allowing you to do this, Malfoy.” You murmured into his hair, eyes closed as he continued. He chuckled but carried on, not denying what you had claimed.

“You’re a slut for me, Y/N. I’ll leave you wanting a lot more, let me promise you that. You won’t even want to cover up these bruises just to show everyone that you’re mine.” He glanced up with a grin pulling at the ends of his lips, and allowed himself to look you up and down very slowly, as if inspecting where to target next.

“Such a naughty little girl, going around in such a tempting little skirt.” He tilted his head and played with the hem of your grey pleated skirt before snaking a hand up. Your head lulled back as he pushed your lace panties aside and stuck two fingers into your wetness, pumping in and out quickly, giving you little time to prepare for it.

A stream of curses slipped from your mouth as he kept going, his technique working perfectly. He grinned from ear to ear, loving your writhing body under his touch.

“Call my name, you dirty little slut.” Get demanded, fingers hesitating slightly, waiting for you to beg him to continue.

“Please, D-draco, don’t stop. Please-” You mumbled, eyes scrunched shut due to the rolling climax that was coming closer and closer. In return, the blond slipped in another finger, making your legs buckle slightly. He pressed you against the wall, his muscular chest easily holding your frame in place.

Your moans echoed around the empty room as a wash of pleasure washed over you quickly, making Draco unsurprisingly smug at how quickly he had managed to arouse you. You panted, hanging your head to catch a breath.

You eyed him carefully as he bought two fingers to his mouth and sucked on them, watching you with heavily lidded eyes. Butterflies grew in your stomach once again as he did so, savouring your juices.

“Who would’ve thought a girl with such a bitter attitude could taste so sweet.” He murmured into your ear, his breath caressing your sensitive skin and sending your hairs on edge.

“Shut it, Malfoy. Don’t be so proud of yourself, other boys have done it faster.” You managed a sassy grin, knowing the comment would irritate him to no end. It wasn’t true, but he had no idea that no one had ever managed to turn you on as quickly as he did.

Malfoy’s jaw tensed as his gaze turned steely.

“You won’t be able to walk tomorrow when I’m finished with you. I’ve seen you walk perfectly fine every single day for the past six years.” His blue eyes narrowed. “What would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me? Wondering who the boy was who left little miss Potter in such a state.” He played with a lock of your H/C hair, twirling it around his long, pale finger with a startling gentleness.

You bit your tongue, completely out of words to use against him now. Visibly taken aback by your uncharacteristic silence, Draco nodded to himself.

“Oh for goodness sake, just shut up and fuck me already, Draco.” You gave in and pulled him closed to you by his white collar. A low chuckle escaped him as he unbuckled his trousers and you hoisted your skirt up slightly.

You raised an eyebrow at his hard member that sprung against his abdomen as he took off his underwear.

“Damn…” You muttered, wide eyed and wondering if that thing would even fit. The other Hogwart’s boys had nothing in comparison. None had actually managed to even scare you slightly.

“You’re going to take every single inch of it, Y/N. Like the good girl you are.” He commanded, pinning you against the stone wall. You nodded, a fiery anticipation burning inside of you as he teased you, rubbing his tip against your entrance. You ached every time you thought he was about to enter, and groaned when he finally did.

He started hard and fast, not giving you any time to adjust. Both of your moans rang out around the room, as well as the slapping of your skin against each other. He panted, chest visibly rising and falling quickly, while you called his name.

“C-come on, Y/N. Tell me how good it feels to have me inside of you.” The blond said, sliding in and out of you at a good rhythm now. You gasped at you felt him hitting the exact sweet spot.

“A-ah! Don’t stop, I need more of you.” You screamed in pleasure. “Please Draco, you feel incredible.”

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Fred Weasley x OC + Minor Draco x OC

Warnings: unhealthy relationships, emotional abuse

Chapter 11 - A Blank Slate

Fred looked deep in thought, his eyes watching his feet as he walked. “I do have one question,” he said finally.  

“Of course, anything.”

“What does Lucius Malfoy wear in the summer?”

She frowned at him. “What?”

“Well, I can’t imagine him in cargo shorts and a vest can you? Does he wear a little straw hat? Does he eat ice cream cones when it’s too hot?”

She laughed and was happy to see him smile back at her.  

“Can you be serious for just five minutes?” she asked.

“Probably not” he shrugged. “But I’ll try.”


Originally posted by justcourbeau

If you want to start from the beginning: Chapter 1 - Prologue

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100 ways to say ‘i love you’ is a drabble writing challenge I made for myself, using the sentence prompts from this post. I use a random number generator to determine which prompt I write next.

harmony + 68 ‘You didn’t have to ask’

Harry trailed his finger over Hermione’s shoulder, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Are you busy this weekend?” 

She leaned into his touch. “No, why?” 

“Can you come with me to see my aunt and cousin this weekend? They invited me for brunch and I don’t want to go alone.”

She turned slightly, her gaze meeting his. “Of course, I’ll go with you. You didn’t have to ask.”

He threaded their fingers together. “I need to when it comes to them.” 

“Do you want to go?” 

He shrugged. “I think they want to talk to me about something.” 

“We’ll go.”

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Chaos is Our Game

Over the wireless, Ginny heard that Opposite Day was over, the Chosen One had saved their arses again. She couldn’t wait to tease him about it.

Her floo chimed and the unusual clock above the mantle, not unlike her mum’s at home, showed that whoever it was, was flooing in from the Japanese Ministry. 

Ginny leaned into the fire. “Who is it?” 

“It’s Harry,” said a disembodied voice. 

Ginny pulled her head out of the flames and Scourgified herself quickly so she didn’t smell like Quidditch. Then she pulled the poker (it was really a lever) to let him through.

“Hey!” He scooped her up into a big hug. “I heard about the match from Ron. Congratulations, you’re going to the World Cup!”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, smiling slightly into his shoulder.

Harry put her down. “You alright?” 

“Yeah. Just a little disoriented from doing everything backwards, I guess.” 

Her boyfriend frowned. “It was Opposite Day here too?” 

“Should it not have been?” 

“The source was all the way at Big Ben.”

“Bad guys always go for the scenic route, don’t they?” 

Harry chuckled. “I can’t believe you won a match flying backwards.”

“No one else will either.” Ginny finally got around to unlacing her boots and her feet thanked her for it. “Romilda Vane is still talking to reporters downstairs.”

“What happened to Williams?”

“Got into a bar fight with her brother for hitting on her girlfriend. Got a concussion. Who was the saboteur?”

“Dunno yet. Ron’s out looking with the Aurors. It’s rather nice to let it be someone else’s problem for once and just come and see you. Did you get your broom checked after the match? What were its stats?” 

“I’ll get it tuned-up before I head back out again, like I always do —”

“I was thinking of getting you a new one. For your birthday.”

“People usually like to keep presents a surprise, you know,” Ginny deadpanned.

“I’m just letting you know so that if Jones decides to buy one for you, I still have time to get something else.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Hermione.”

“I mean, I could just snog you senseless like you do me every year, but I kinda want to be original at least.”

“Oh, I certainly hope I get a lot more than a snog for my birthday, Potter,” she purred, perching herself on his lap. 

Harry’s eyes went glassy like he’d just been Confunded. “You look so hot in your Quidditch robes.”

“But…?” Ginny prompted him.

Now he was really confused. “But what? But nothing! You’re bloody gorgeous!”

Ginny rolled her eyes, stood, and dropped her robes at her feet. “Do I look hotter now?”

Harry nodded dumbly. 

She grinned sinfully. “Show me how you treat a winner, Potter.”

Read on Ao3 :) 

A/N: Thank you so so soooo much to @elanev91​ for beta-ing once again! You make me a better writer, you queen xx

BAMF Ginny by the epic @lunorichi​ <3 No wonder Harry’s ~smitten~

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A/N, not proofread and really bad ifbifi

6th year rolls around and everyone is afraid of you, your dad is the most feared wizard of this age

‘Harry, are you afraid of me?’

‘Merlin no! Why would I ever be afraid of you!’

You unfortunately getting the dark mark against your will.

It was a scary sight to see

“My dear Y/N! This is only the start! Think all of the amazing things we can do together!” Bellatrix whispered in your ear as Voldemort put the mark on you, it burned like hell, your screams filled the room.

Draco seeing the whole thing and not knowing what to do

Going back to Hogwarts and Harry is talking about Draco being a death eater and you just staying quiet.

Everyone wondering why you are being super quiet all the sudden since you are usually laughing or being loud 

Harry noticing that you are wearing long sleeves even when it’s hot outside and he thinks the worst.

‘Sirius, I’m worried about Y/N.’

‘Go on.’

‘She’s been too quiet, and has been sitting with the Slytherin’s more, and she’s been away from me, not to mention she looks sick.’

Sirius would 100% think you’re preggo


Remus and Molly getting there and Harry being confused.


His face fully red now, you guys have done it before but have been safe about it

Time skip to Christmas

Staying with the Weasley’s cause you don’t feel safe at the Malfoy’s since your mother is there

Sirius checking up on you because he feels like you will turn into his brother, even though his brother was a good guy after all

‘Hey kid, you okay?’ 

‘Sure, just really tried.’

One morning Harry sees the mark because the sleeve of your shirt rolled down a little.

‘Y/N! How could you! I-I trusted you!’ 

‘It was against my will! I didn’t want this!’

Everyone heard but no one knew what it was about

‘Harry, please understand! I love you!’

Stops dead in his tracks

‘You what?’

‘I love you! I fucking love you Harry fucking James Potter!’

Harry saying nothing but looking at you

‘And I thought I did too.’

You guessed it! You guys broke up that day

Didn’t help the fact that it was Christmas day too…

Harry got you a beautiful ring that rose quartz that meant love. It was weird because no one knew you guys broke up

When Bellatrix came and burnt the house (why did that ever happen, it was so unneeded) she took you with her and brought you too the Malfoy’s

The ring you wore was the only thing bringing you comfort.

Harry rethinking his life choices rn

Harry beating himself up because you were gone and he really did love you

pt.3 coming soon!

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