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talesofadragon · 5 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

Summary: Theodore Nott came to learn that an inciting incident can alter the course of history. Lucius Malfoy’s fall led to Draco’s dark mark and the death of Dumbledore. The rise of the Dark Lord urged Harry Potter into hiding and Death Eaters into prominence. And then there was Amycus Carrow, with his tainted hands on Y/N, who forced Theodore Nott to do the unforgivable.

Warnings: Sexual assault, attempted rape, graphic description of violence, panic attacks

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Non-Slytherin!Reader

Genre: Angst | Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 5.8K

All Masterlists | Theodore Nott Masterlist

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐥𝐬. The lines between the two flow steadily, each following its own cadence. And yet, despite their distinct course and the light years between them, they somehow find a way to draw parameters of joint space. Somehow, someway, they eventually overlap—meeting each other at the apex of catalysts and the twists between junctures to shape history and write the present.

Today starts like most stories do: quaint and subtle, setting the tone for an inciting incident that will tip this fable on its axis.

It’s a typical day, or as typical as it could get during Y/N’s last year at Hogwarts. She’s sitting at the far end of her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, donning the same apprehensive expression as all her classmates. The turmoil that governs the halls is a jarring contrast to the flourishing and effervescent school of witchcraft and wizardry Hogwarts once was.

In this mangled reality, there are specks of the idyllic tales she’s heard about, and witnessed, growing up. Slytherins and Gryffindors sustain their infamous rivalry while in search of their individual purpose, purebloods hold themselves on par with Merlin himself, and more often than not, students find refuge in a forgotten nuke in Hogwarts when the burden of magic becomes too heavy to bear.

In the first drafts of the story, Hogwarts held its students under one embrace. But now, as we’re nearing a hazy end, an isolating veil drapes over the school, fracturing it into fewer than four houses and dividing it more than ever before.

“Now, as Barty Crouch Junior has so tirelessly shared, you have already been acquainted with Merlin’s three most formidable spells,” Alecto Carrow, one of Voldemort’s trusted Death Eaters explains. Her heels dig into the marble floors of the classroom, their screeches ricocheting across the walls in warning.

“The Unforgivables,” her brother Amycus eagerly finishes. His yellow teeth wither under the dim light of the darkened sun as his arms open wide. It’s unsettling how he and his sister welcome such misfortune so openly.

As it happens every single time the Carrow twins revel in the darkest boulevards of magic, Y/N shifts in her seat until she’s nearly imperceptible. Each time, her eyes rove the expanse of the classroom, seeking out the comfort of peculiar hazel eyes. Within just ten seconds, her wandering gaze comes to rest on the idle brown walls, a weight of defeat settling upon her.

Upon her reluctant return to Hogwarts this year, Y/N was met with a torrent of unimaginable changes, starting with students being separated not only based on their house but also their blood status.

Purebloods became a procession of peacocks—majestic, refined, otherworldly. Only allowed to flick around with students of the same upper class.

Half-bloods, on the other hand, belong to inconsistent ideologies. They teeter on the precipice of honor, waiting for Death Eaters like Umbridge and whoever else is in the Ministry to decide their fate.

Muggleborns, it's best not to get started.

Y/N doodles a few meaningless shapes, swirling her quill around the parchment as she thinks of Theodore. Lately, it's become increasingly difficult to talk to him, let alone spot him, with all the changes in place.

Her classmates know she’s not paying attention and that she's only pretending she has her nose buried deep in her notes. Her quill, which scratches against the parchment, is nothing but a ruse to get the Carrows off her scent.

This class truly has nothing to offer except for a modicum of nostalgia and a barrage of abuse, so if the Carrows are so gullible to believe that Y/N is actively listening, then so be it.

By now, she takes it a step further, looking up to meet the eyes of the young children brought forth by the Carrows. She’s mastered the art of stoicism to a T, gazing at their expressions without showing a measly emotion. But every single time, she finds herself transported eons back to a time when things were drastically better.

Her memories vary, depending on whatever catalyst she encounters. She recalls seeing a girl with ginger waves once, and her mind acted on autopilot, bringing her back to the times she and her friends would huddle in their common room to animatedly talk about the latest Weasley prank.

At the previous hints of pink, she remembered Umbridge when she was finally escorted outside of Hogwarts grounds.

And today, her memories are not too different. Bittersweet at best and wistful at most.

She finds a boy biting down on his lower lip. He’s a Gryffindor, judging by the color of his tie, more so by his audaciousness when he decides to lift his head and contain his fear. His eyes are hazel, edging closer to honey brown underneath the dim light of the classroom. And her mind is cruel enough to conjure the image of Theodore hovering above her naked body with lustful hazel eyes and abused fiery lips.

Theodore doesn’t particularly fancy his eye color—he doesn’t quite fancy much about himself. He’s not oblivious to his popularity, but unlike Draco Malfoy, who shines like the stars, Theodore Nott glows like the moon in a dance of subtlety and intensity; a paradoxical luminosity that always leaves Y/N in awe.

He never particularly bothered her during their first couple of years at Hogwarts, which explains why they never interacted until their fifth year. Back when Umbridge was foul toward the student population, especially vile toward anyone of lesser blood.

Dennis Creevey, who had been a first-year at that time, fell victim to her malice. His penance for being born to muggle parents was bloodily etched on his hand. Y/N tried to help him, even though her own hand was hurting just as badly. The healing spells didn’t counter the dark magic infused in the quills, and while she could handle the pain, the poor eleven-year-old couldn’t.

"May I?" a voice softly breathed from behind her, causing her to jump slightly. She turned to see the unexpected sight of Theodore Nott, dressed in an emerald green tie and an aura of pristine silver. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, and her hands trembled, a reaction heightened by the delicate hints of cinnamon swirling in the air.

When Theodore pulled out his wand, Dennis cowered. And to her surprise, Theodore’s face fell. Yet he quickly covered his crestfallen expression with a mask of pure stoicism.

Y/N’s gaze meandered away from the Slytherin and settled on the young Gryffindor. “It’s okay, Dennis,” she recalled herself saying at the time, even though she hadn’t mentally given her words the green light to tumble out of her mouth. Both Dennis and Theodore seemed equally surprised, turning their heads her way. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

Maybe it was the softness of Theodore’s hazel eyes, or maybe it was how he abstained from touching the boy's bruised hand and elected to kneel to his level. To this day, Y/N doesn’t know what exactly made her fall for Theodore at that exact moment in time.

Yet, all she knows in certainty is that she’s in love with Theodore Aurelius Nott. Pureblood, Slytherin Elite, Son of Darkness. But what can she do if one glance at his hazel orbs leaves her drowning in the depths of his moonshine?

“Miss Y/L/N!”

Y/N’s head jerks when a protruding voice disturbs her reverie. She chances a glance at the front of the classroom, finding Alecto Carrow’s lidded eyes on her. Bright and sage, a stark contrast to the malevolence nestled within them.

“Yes?” Y/N wonders aloud.

“Given your diligence in recording the theoretical aspect of The Unforgivables, I believe it’s time for you to engage in the practicalities of said lesson,” Alecto announces with a tone that leaves no room for negotiation or refutation.

With a sharp nod, she ushers Y/N out of her seat, beckoning her over until she's two steps away from her. Y/N stands idly, unaware of whether she's going to role-play as the tormentor or the tormented. But her internal questions are answered the moment Amycus Carrow shoves the Gryffindor boy with hazel eyes into her line of sight.

"Go on." Alecto wears a sinister expression as she levels Y/N with a taunting smile. "Demonstrate your aptitude to the class.”

Y/N doesn't step back nor does she shy away. She clings to the apathetic front she's adopted from her boyfriend, her gaze falling on the young boy, and her thoughts drowning out Alecto's sharp voice. By the time Amycus asks her to draw out her wand, she's mustered up enough confidence to answer with a terse "no."

“What do you mean no, you insolent brat!” Alecto bellows, being the first to succumb to her temper. For a snake, she is known to be as hot-headed as a lion.

“I refuse to perform any curse on anyone,” Y/N clarifies, purposefully refraining from calling her “professor.” And if she had half a brain cell, perhaps she would’ve figured it out.

“Is that so?” Alecto challenges.

“Yes.”

“Very well, despicable half-breed. You know the rules. You’re either the rodent or the snake. Guess you’ll always be the former.”

She's calm and aloof on the outside, but Y/N is dreading what’s coming next. She’s never fallen victim to the Cruciatus, though she has heard all about it from Theodore and his friends—even once from Harry.

She watches with steady eyelashes as Alecto draws her wand and points it at her. Although the curse is released, and screams reverberate across the walls, both Alecto and Y/N remain silent.

To Y/N's horror, the young Gryffindor boy thrashes on the ground with clenched fists and agonizing wails. Above him, Amycus stands like a conductor, his wand beckoning the crooked notes of the boy's voice to rise to a crescendo.

Finally, the screams die down, extinguishing and feeding the anguish of every student at once. Amycus turns to address the class, dismissing them all except for one. “You go ahead, Alecto,” he directs toward his sister. “If the little mouse wishes to squeak, then she’ll have to suffer graver consequences than what you have to offer.”

Whatever Amycus has in mind seems to appease Alecto. Her expression is mirthful as she grabs the robes of the young Gryffindor boy and sweeps him out of the class, using his body as a cleaning broom.

The students all file out, their glances lingering on Y/N. As the last of the students leaves, Amycus turns to the young girl.

“Your wand, Miss Y/L/N,” he demands. Y/N debates not giving it to him, but she knows if she doesn’t, he’ll come and collect it himself. So, she reluctantly hands it over. “Ah, pretty little thing. What’s the core?”

“Dragon heartstring.”

“Fitting for a spitfire like you.”

“I thought I was a meek little mouse,” Y/N counters, making Amycus grin.

“You are a lot of things, little girl,” he replies as he twirls her wand in his hand. “The wood?”

“Larch.”

“Enlighten me, Y/L/N,” Amycus voices out. If Y/N’s a mouse, then he seems to enjoy being a cat. His long and calloused fingers trace her wand while he circles her, trying to break her resolve. “What does the wood say about you?”

The question strokes her ear, carried by Amycus’ ghastly voice. Y/N stills, not seeing where he’s going. She jolts as Amycus taps the wand against her thigh, particularly the exposed skin between her skirt and stockings.

“It’s best paired with wizards and witches who possess hidden talents,” she replies tersely.

The hum coming from her side indicates that Amycus is listening—paying attention, though, not so much, considering he’s rather preoccupied with poking her skin with her wand while rotating around her.

He’s playing with his food, Y/N tells herself, knowing this is just another trick of his. Somewhere in his sadist brain, his senses are sparking with delight at the prospect of Y/N’s discomfort, relishing the power he has over her.

A part of her wants to jam her wand in his eyes, pluck his eyeballs out, and proceed to stuff each in his nostrils. But another part of her stands idle, not even blinking as he keeps up his ministrations.

Amycus smiles, taking up more of her personal space. Y/N’s senses are lit on fire as he traces her wand across her body. “Is your mouth a part of those talents, filthy witch? You don’t talk much, but rotten girls like you must know how to use their mouths.”

“To scream, I presume,” Y/N breathes. Her quip hits Amycus right in the face, and the maniac grins. His face is painted with a nefarious glee, that of a predator eager to feast on its prey.

SA and Attempted Rape Content Begins Here. Skip Through This Scene by Scrolling to "Scene End."

The unsettling sensation against her ribs dissipates when Amycus pulls the wand away, but the apprehension still lingers. As she mentally prepares herself for the inevitable pain that comes along with the Cruciatus, Amycus’ hand cups her chin, and his molten lips crash against hers. The sensation is so crippling and unfavorable it sends her tumbling back into the table.

The pressure on YN’s cheeks intensifies until it becomes sharp and metallic. Fingers dig into her flesh, paving a path for Amycus’ tongue to follow. Though her hands slap against his chest, legs flailing around, he continues his exploration in the depths of her throat.

It feels like he’s finally thrown her off a cliff, yet with all the energy Y/N can muster, she pushes his body away and slaps him across the face.

He looks at her with unadulterated rage. Y/N forgoes reading his face in favor of bolting toward the door. But before she reaches the handle, she’s yanked back by her robes. The fabric tears, as does her heart. Amycus then throws her on top of the teacher’s desk and catches both her wrists in his hand.

“Pitty your blood is impure, little witch. If you had to match your filthy mouth with something, I’d rather it be your pussy than your blood.”

“Get off me,” Y/N enunciates with a quiver in her voice. It seems to feed Amycus’ wicked desires because she suddenly finds him nipping at her neck in pure delight.

“You’ve disobeyed my direct order. When witches are bad, they’re punished.”

“You’re sick!”

“And you’re delicious.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, burying his face further in the junction between her neck and shoulder. His kisses are filthy, heavy, frigid. They make her body feel like ice—they make her feel as if she's been snatched and thrown into the depths of the Dark Lake.

Amycus' hands grab her waist and flip her over until her gaze meets the darkness of the desk’s wood. If the sensation of the wand against her thigh left acid in her mouth, then Amycus’ fingers left her with bile overwhelming her senses.

“What a pretty little ass you’re hiding under here. It was made to be ruined.”

Y/N doesn’t have time to panic. In fluid movements, Amycus lifts her skirt, rips off the shorts she typically wears beneath, and spanks her ass.

She yelps, struggling against the hand against her back that’s keeping her on the desk. She’s hit one more time and then two and three. The slaps are forceful and fiery, leaving her skin scalded and singed.

A roar erupts from the depths of her soul when she feels a finger easing her thong. The force of her scream catches Amycus off guard, enough for Y/N to elbow him and dive to the ground for her wand.

“Cruc—”

“Oh, so now you want to cast it!”

With ease, Amycus manages to slap Y/N’s wand away. He ruthlessly places his palm against her stomach, pushing her back to the ground.

Her head aches from the force of the blow, a scream barrelling through the space between her lips when Amycus towers over her, digging his obsidian nails into her skin.

“It’s a shame that the most delightful toys happen to be the filthiest. Maybe this will teach you and your kind that you will forever remain beneath us.”

Y/N cries as Amycus incapacitates her lips. She squirms underneath his body, vaguely aware of the fabric he’s tearing in half, though oblivious to what clothing item it belongs to.

She tries to non-verbally cast a spell, but her mind is too distracted to focus on the incantation. All she knows is that she needs to get Amycus off her. And yet, no amount of strength in her hands or her spells manages to draw him to a stop.

His spit traces her lower lip, tantalizingly closing the distance between her mouth and collarbone. Y/N shudders, bellowing at the thought of his saliva trailing her skin.

She wails, screams, and shouts until she realizes that Amycus probably cast Silencio without her knowing. Though futile, she tries to push his body weight off her, even resorts to kicking his ribs.

It doesn’t work... until by some miracle from Merlin himself Amycus’ body flies toward the back wall, releasing her.

Scene End

Y/N gasps, pushing her palms against the tiled floor and lifting herself to a sitting position. Her chest heaves as she looks at the discarded fabric of her skirt, the scattered buttons of her shirt, and the remains of her robe that are haphazardly strewn across the room.

Faint sounds register at the back of her mind. A heavy breath, mirroring her own, emanates from behind, accompanied by an erratic heartbeat that matches hers. Amidst it all, she picks up on Amycus’s forlorn groans, muffled by the surrounding darkness. Resilient ropes now bind his hands and feet, rendering him completely motionless.

“Get Y/N out of here,” a voice orders. It’s far away—at least, Y/N thinks so. But despite the fog around its edges, she can somehow sense the enmity lacing it.

Before she can process the shadows creeping closer to her side, a robe is draped over her shoulders as arms wrap securely around her.

She thrashes against the man holding her, trying to repel his hands from her body. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he says in a low octave. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. I promise you. He can't touch you anymore.”

The voice carries a bit of an edge, yet it’s the most soothing sound she’s heard all day. Her lips quiver as she internally fights with her thoughts, head spinning and shaking in defeat.

The halls around her move fast, time seemingly irrelevant at this point. She’s crying and mumbling incoherently, burying her face in the fabric of this stranger’s clothes, which smell like a familiar blend of mint and citrus.

The robe is wrapped tighter around her shoulders, and she receives a faint squeeze as she’s brought up a staircase. Words are whispered, a door is opened, and voices mingle with one another until a delicate tone enters her headspace.

“Draco, who’s that you’re carrying?”

“It’s Y/N,” the male voice, the one belonging to Draco, replies. Draco kicks open a door and places Y/N on the bed. She wails even more at the action, curling herself into a ball—at this point, she doesn’t know if she should be relieved or terrified.

“What the hell happened to her?”

“Lower your voice, Pansy! Can’t you see she’s scared enough?”

Pansy stutters for a few seconds before asking again, “Who did this to her?”

Draco hesitates, looking between the two young women. “Amycus,” he replies. And though it’s barely a mumble, it’s enough to send Y/N spiraling.

Pansy’s jade eyes tread carefully as they peer over Y/N’s frail body. She sees the red marks on her hands and the blood that seeps from the cuts on her face. “Cruciatus?” she asks, but something in her tone makes it obvious that it’s just wishful thinking.

“No,” Draco answers. Y/N’s sniffles and shudders fill the air as Pansy and Draco exchange silent glances. Y/N clutches her throat, rubbing it to try and get herself more oxygen.

“What do we do?”

Draco's footsteps echo as he retreats toward the door. “You're going to her clean up. If Theo hasn’t killed Amycus yet, I’m going to join him in his pursuit.”

There was something in that last line that clamped agony around Y/N’s heart, squeezing like a vice. She wept, only vaguely conscious of Pansy’s soothing touch in her hair and the remnants of Draco's anger looming around the room.

The mirror in the bathroom captures two girls in its glassy frame. One of them is put together while the other looks worse for wear. Y/N stares at her wild reflection, moroseness painting her irises. A tiny sob escapes her barely parted lips, and Pansy decides to tear Y/N’s attention away from the broken girl staring at them through the mirror.

She softly holds Y/N's hand and helps her to the shower, turning her head when Y/N undresses and then carefully cleans her blotched skin. Once they’re done, she lends Y/N some pajamas and underwear, giving her the privacy and space to change into them before helping her dry her hair.

Wordlessly, Pansy leads Y/N away from the mirror. Her grip is firm as she swings open the bathroom door. Y/N squints against the sudden invasion of light from the room beyond. Her gaze takes in the expanse of her surroundings and the rich emerald hue of the Head Dorm's walls. Then, her eyes lock on two men. One with platinum blond hair and the other with brunette locks, both embracing the shadows with deadly intent in their fiery eyes.

She bristles, caught between shying away and clutching the attention she’s receiving from them. Y/N doesn’t dwell on their appearance for too long, afraid to develop the ability to read their eyes and stumble across the shame and pity possibly nestled within them.

Pansy whispers something under her breath, which Y/N fails to hear under the barrage of despondency she finds herself in. She feels Pansy’s hesitant touch on her forearm, briefly catching her and Draco retreating away, the door to the room closing behind them in a soft thud.

Silence runs freely around the room, undeterred by the confined space. Its loudness disturbs Y/N, forcing her to wince. She wills herself to say something, but all the words are lodged in her throat, searing it from the inside out.

Theodore takes a deep breath, the sound piercing the stillness in the air. But his words don’t leave his mouth the same way his gaze never paces beyond a fixed point on the ground.

“Why are you not looking at me?” Y/N asks. She’s surprised that she’s articulated her thoughts even though she doesn’t have enough strength to speak.

Theodore shakes his head. “I can’t”. His words have finally forced his gaze away from the ground, although he’s refusing to settle it on her.

“I wouldn’t look at me either. I get it.” Y/N sniffles. Darkness clouds her sight. She’s tired and aching, barely finding her grip on reality.

She wants to scream, and she wants to cry, but it’s like she doesn’t know how. Like her mainframe has been hijacked and forced to shut down.

Something in her periphery catches her attention. Theodore is now standing before her, hands trembling by his sides. They move to embrace her waist, to hold her shoulders, to cup her face; but they never do. They only trace invisible lines that mirror her figure. It’s then that she notices the fray in his gaze. Instead of the rejection and the indifference she expected to find, there’s dejectedness, misery, and pain.

“I would look at you forever if you let me,” Theodore answers with his hands hanging in the space between them. “If you would still allow me.”

“Touch me,” Y/N retorts. Hold me, find me, fix me, love me.

And Theodore does just that with unprecedented gentleness. He traces her cheeks with his thumb and pulls her by the waist closer to his side. His nose nuzzles her neck, breathing in her scent. His lips press against the shell of her ear, his warm breath penetrating her soul and sending a fond tingle down her spine.

He touches her, not like she’s a porcelain doll or a bomb about to detonate. Theodore touches her like she’s the most precious piece of art he’s ever encountered, and he’s afraid that even one stumbled breath could force her colors away.

“I love you,” he confesses. A loan tear accompanies his declaration, inscribing the words on the fabric of Y/N’s soul. “And I am so sorry. So sorry, my love, for what my absence and negligence have put you through.”

“Theo…”

“No, Y/N. Don’t. Don’t try to say anything.”

Theodore wipes her tears, gently tucking some loose strands of her hair behind her ears. Y/N nods, allowing her boyfriend to hoist her in his arms and carry her to bed. She hides her face in his neck, absorbing the lingering traces of his sandalwood perfume.

When he places her on the bed, she notices the change in his demeanor as soon as she tangles her legs with his and rushes to press his hands against his chest. Her eyes fill with tears, and she fails to prepare herself for the rejection that she’s afraid might be rushing her way.

To her astonishment, Theodore pulls her into a tighter hug, as if seeking a connection beyond the surface, binding together not only their skin but also the intricate layers below—souls, hearts, atoms.

“Did he…” Theodore pauses, choking on unspoken words. “Did he go far?”

Y/N shook her head. “No. You and Draco came just in time.”

“Barely,” Theodore denies. A stolen glance gives Y/N a clear view of his clenched jaw and crestfallen expression. The war may be looming, yet to find its way to the Wizarding World, but it has already made a dominion in Theodore’s features.

“Just in time.” Minutes pass while Y/N is cocooned protectively in between Theodore’s strong arms. They encase her, filling her being with the placidity and the tenderness that was robbed of her some time ago. Her eyes close, darkness not as fearful as it seemed now that Theodore’s hands are weaving through her hair, and his voice is carrying a tender lullaby. “How did you know?”

Theodore’s hands falter and the lullaby ends on an abrupt note. His arms pull Y/N closer to his chest as he ruefully explains what happened, “A Gryffindor boy found me. He was frightened and jittery. At first, I thought it was because Draco and I were standing together. Then he said something about Defense class, the Carrows, and the Cruciatus. Your name got suddenly tangled in the gruesomeness of it all, so I rushed to the class as far as I could."

“They wanted me to hurt him,” Y/N whispers in a small voice.

“I know.”

“I couldn’t do it.”

Theodore looks at her with glassy eyes. “I know you would never.”

His hands sooth Y/N, featherless touches easing the altercation in her soul. She meets his gaze, heart shattering at the pain he harbors. She knows it’s not easy for Theodore to be a silent witness to torture and heartache, understanding his unconscious pursuit of absorbing pain and rooting it in his very being.

“Please,” she begins, “please, Theo. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I’ve failed you.”

“You haven’t.”

He declines vehemently, “I promised to protect you from the darkness, within me and beyond me. And I have clearly done neither.”

You had no way of knowing! Y/N argued in her head. You, alone, cannot stop this madness! So many rebuttals swarmed her head. She wanted to pelt Theodore with every single one of them until some sense got knocked into him. “Darkness,” he says so loosely as if he’s ever exposed her to any of it.

All her memories of Theodore exuded radiance, softness, and peace. He’s only ever steered her away from the darkness, whether it was from Umbridge’s rage back in their fifth year or Bellatrix’s terror at the end of their sixth.

To hear him speak of himself like this, as if he’s one of them, a shadow branded by the mark of death, hurts her more than everything Amycus did to her.

“What did you do to Amycus?”

The name causes Theodore’s heart to falter beneath the palm of Y/N’s hands. Her eyes trace the veins of his neck, astounded by the voraciousness of their color as his anger escalates. “Do not say that vermin’s name.”

Darkness, Theodore would call it if he sees himself now. And yet, all the world is witnessing according to Y/N is a darker shade of love and concern: just as sincere, a lot more warm.

“Carrow,” she concedes. “What did you do to Carrow?”

“I wanted to kill him,” Theodore answers, studying Y/N’s face for a reaction. “I almost killed him.” If he was looking for disgust or worse, fear, he couldn’t find it.

“And why didn’t you?”

“Draco called for Snape.”

Y/N hums, absentmindedly reaching for Theodore’s hand. He hesitates when he feels her fingers entwining with his, his entire body tensing up. Y/N whines, and he takes a deep breath. His fingers lace hers, squeezing her hand before bringing it to his lips.

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, treasure. No one but that scum is. Snape said nothing. He bound his hands and escorted him to his office.”

“Good,” Y/N replies.

“That’s not all,” Theodore intercedes, catching her attention. She shifts in his arms, waiting for his next words with a bated breath. “We’re getting out of here.”

“What?” came Y/N’s question, loud, sharp, and clear. It resonated across the room, its intensity surprising her.

“I didn’t kill him,” Theodore admits. He’s moved now, body peering away from Y/N’s hold to better study her features. She keeps them the way they are, with no sign of the acrimony or the resentment she suspects Theodore is looking for. “But I uttered the curse. Draco countered it somehow, and it rebounded. Hit the wall instead. It cracked it, the same way I cracked every single bone in his body and watched him bleed.”

As the words fill the space between them, Y/N rushes to grab Theodore’s hands. She inspects them, surprised to find them bruising. How did I not notice this? She whimpers at her late realization—her neglect. But now that his marred skin is beneath the scrutiny of her gaze, she notices that the blue and purple hues are rather dull in comparison to his story.

Almost as if Theodore understood her silent concerns, he says, “Cruciatus.” Y/N bristles, though her body is traitorous. It jolts, feeling the residue of the invisible needles and acid-laced knives. “Sectumsempra and a number of other curses that flew out of my mouth without thought when I saw you lying on the ground, bloody, bruised, broken. Torn apart by a mediocre middle-aged man, who deserves nothing but to be decapitated, torn limb by limb, until there’s not even a speck of his ashes left on the—”

“Theo,” Y/N calls. Her voice quivers, mirroring the tremble in her body provoked by those words. “Stop.”

“I’m sorry,” Theodore sniffs, head bending down.

Y/N rushes to answer, shaking her head violently. “No. I can’t… I can’t watch you tear yourself apart over something you had no control over.”

“I—”

“Listen to me! Listen to me and not the lies inside your head. Does it hurt? Yes. Does it burn? More than a Fienfyre cast by the Dark Lord himself. But you weren’t there—no, Theo, come back to me and stop traveling in time inside your head.”

“I’m supposed to protect you,” Theo defended. “Merlin, Y/N. I was supposed to be there! To stop all of this from happening. You’re in pain more than I am. So, stop subduing my anger!”

“I’m subduing your self-deprecation! I’m not blaming you, and I will not fan the flames of your anger. You had no way, no way, of knowing Carrow would do this.”

“I’m supposed to protect you,” he answers with a little less fight and a lot more shame.

“And you did, Theo,” Y/N assures, bringing herself closer to his side. “You got me out. You saved me. In time.”

“Barely!” Theodore screams, a deluge of tears running down his cheeks and burying his resolve in their undertow. “But I will save you this time. I’ll get you out. Both of us. I’ll take you away, somewhere you won’t be judged for your blood or your mistake in choosing me.”

“You’re not a mistake,” Y/N refutes, begging him to see. “Look at you. You call yourself a vision of darkness when your love and care are shining through.”

“My love is darkness, viciousness, and cruelty.” It’s almost as if he’s the one begging her to understand.

Tears cascade down Y/N’s cheeks, the saltiness and bitterness of them incomparable to Theodore’s words. “Your love is fierceness,” Y/N professes, taking Theodore’s breath away, “seamlessness, and warmth.”

“I made you live through pain,” Theodore pleads, hoping she agrees. But she doesn't.

“And I will live after it. With you.”

The confession shatters the last of Theodore’s resolve. He pulls Y/N closer, resting his chin atop her head and enveloping her in a secure embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he cries. His fingers weave through her hair, gripping the back of her head, anchoring himself in her presence—convincing himself that she’s here. “You are so strong, treasure. Stronger than life and death, brighter than light, and fiercer than shadows. I love you, my Y/N. And I swear on your head and on my mother’s last breath that I will protect you even if I have to do the unforgivable. No one will ever hurt you ever again.”

“I know,” Y/N nods as Theodore kisses the crown of her head. Each breath he takes, every word he utters, stitches through her soul, mending the threads of herself. “And I love you all the more for it.”

“You’ve endured a war. I’ll be damned if I let you face another,” Theodore promises, capturing Y/N’s lips and seamlessly merging his soul with hers.

Tomorrow remains uncertain, and control extends only so far across the horizon. Yet, with Theodore by her side, Y/N finds the darkness considerably less formidable. Even if he's willing to commit the unforgivable to shield her, forgiveness is a given. His love is the tranquility that follows the tempest, and she's ready to navigate through destruction with Theodore.

I never expected to write about a topic as painful and sensitive as SA or rape.

Hearing the multiple accounts of women around me made me see how these experiences are prevalent yet scarcely communicated. When I wrote this piece, it was with no intention to diminish the seriousness of the issue but rather use this platform as a conduit to raise the matter and bring it to light. Whether you’ve been personally impacted by this disheartening situation or witnessed someone close to you go through this, I want you to know that you are not alone. You are incredibly brave for enduring this, and there is no reason to feel ashamed. You lived through it and will live after it with even more fierceness and courage than you've ever had.

If you ever feel like talking, please know that I am here to listen, without judgment or reservation. 🤍

All-Fandom Taglist: @xxrougefangxx

#harry potter fanfiction #theo nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theo nott imagine #theo nott angst #theodore nott imagine #overprotective theodore nott #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #hp fandom #theodorenott

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thebestofoneshots · 5 months

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.5 K Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. (Reader discretion is advised). Prompt: We need to talk. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 24: Peace of Mind

10:00 November 24th, 1976

You waited for the girls to fall asleep and used a combination of spells to sneak out without being noticed. Lily had changed your bandages before bed and you had gladly let her, Sirius’ words reverberating in your head as she did “ Don’t be so stubborn and let us help!”

Perhaps you’d have to use those same words with Remus later on. Little after telling him you were sorry for hurting him so bad and asking him to please not hate you for the rest of his life. As you walked towards the infirmary with the disillusionment charm, the same charm you had used so often since you arrived at Hogwarts that you had pretty much mastered it. Your charm was almost as deceiving as James’ invisibility cloak, logically you knew it’d never match its greatness, but you could definitely get close.

At least enough to sneak past Peeves who was busy rearranging all the portraits on one of the halls so they were all upside down, you heard the paintings complain as he shook them about for good measure. You winced, I wouldn’t want to be any of those portraits, you thought, but continued on your way to the infirmary. As you walked you pulled the sleeves of your quidditch sweater over your hands, the temperature had dropped a little that night and you felt a stark contrast between the cold you felt then and how hot you had felt earlier in the passages with Sirius, you flushed a little when the images came back you your mind, the hunger you had felt had been so overwhelming it felt like a dream.

You took another breath, still feeling cold. Was being sensible to temperature changes also because of the bit of lycanthropy running through your system at that point? Did poor Remus have to deal with them so often? Maybe that was why he always carried around some kind of sweater, in case it got chilly and he felt it a little more strongly than the rest.

Once you arrived at the big infirmary doors you looked at them for a minute and waited, taking a deep breath as you stared. You had gotten word that Pomfrey usually retired to her chambers at 11:30 PM, after curfew and once she made sure all the children in the infirmary –if there were any– had fallen asleep. Her chambers were close enough so she could rush back in, in case of an emergency with the children, and she had some house elves check on the children often.

You were thankful you had made friends with Myrtle since she had been the one to provide you with so much detailed information. Information that she had eavesdropped out a couple of years ago when Sirius, James and Peter were planning how to get into the infirmary since no one allowed them to visit Remus.

You had also gone to talk to Numbletwist earlier that day, to try and figure out if there would be any elves in the infirmary that night. She shook her head, telling you that they were often called off when students got sick around the full moon. She said it was probably because Poppy liked to stay extra attentive of things. You had nodded and thanked her profusely for the information. Scurrying away with the excuse of needing to rest before she asked why you wanted to know.

You heard a bit of rattling and then one of the doors opened up, she walked outside, using her wand to illuminate her path, and you sneaked in and hid behind one of the beds, even if you still had the disillusionment charm, you knew it was better safe than sorry. And Poppy definitely had better eyesight than most witches her age. She turned off the rest of the lights in the infirmary and closed the door behind her, but you stayed crouching behind the bed.

You stood there, breathing steady as you slowly pushed yourself up to peer over the bed and check whether Remus was asleep or awake. He seemed to be waiting for Poppy to leave too, since a couple of minutes later he lifted himself up, accommodating a pillow and pulling his wand out. He used Lumus to see better as he looked through the drawer of his night table, grabbing onto a book and settling it over his lap.

Great, Remus really had no plan to sleep soon then, you shrank into Vixen and walked over to Remus, sneaking in below his bed and onto the other side, where you could keep an eye on the door just in case. Once you manage to collect your thoughts you sprung back into human form. Remus jumped from his spot in the bed when you appeared out of nowhere.

“Sorry to startle you,” you whispered with a bit of a frown, regret evident in your tone.

“Little Witch?” he asked as he blinked a couple of times, trying to decipher if the way the low blue light from the stars and the waning moon shone behind your figure was all part of a dream or whether you really were there again. In truth, he had smelled you minutes earlier, but he assumed perhaps he was just picking up your scent from the chocolates you kept bringing over, or he was so drudged with potions that he was now smelling you like you really were there. And it wouldn’t be uncommon, he had dreamed of you so often lately that you standing there might really just be yet another one. But the way the light cast a halo behind you was too realistic to be part of his imagination “What are you doing here?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you said simply.

Remus stiffened and froze as if he had seen a basilisk, but then shook his head “I wasn’t… I didn’t–”

“–It’s ok,” you cut him off “I get it, I understand why you wouldn’t want to see me, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry I was stubborn and I’m sorry I jinxed you and I’m sorry I had the Whomping Willow throw you to the side and I’m sorry Prongs had to gore you, several times because I couldn’t run fast enough and I’m sorry I–“

Remus reached for your hand, and your breath caught in your throat as you felt a small shock of electricity, “hey!” he said softly “I wasn’t avoiding you because I’m angry at you.”

Remus’ hand was warm and soft, not as soft as Sirius’ but not as tough as you imagined it would be. “Then why?”

“I– I thought you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore,” he admitted, his hand on yours tightening “After the moon I was terrified the reason you’d come to see me was… to say goodbye. Because the friend that you thought you had was a monster, and because I couldn’t control myself as a wolf and because I’m bIoody dangerous to be around.”

That was the second time Remus called himself a monster in front of you, you’d have none of it, “Remus,” you said, leaning in a little closer “You’re not a monster.”

“I’m pretty sure werewolves fit in the category damn nicely,” he responded bitterly.

“I give three fucks if they fit in the monster category, in the extra dangerous being category or in the beasts section of the library. You, Remus. My Remus, are not a monster.”

Perhaps Remus would have realised the way you had used his name had it not been with how wrapped up in his own head he was “I could’ve killed you.”

“You didn’t.”

He averted your gaze “Could’ve bitten you. That’s what the wolf wanted, you know? To bite you. To turn you.”

“But you didn’t,” you insisted. “And even if you had, we would’ve found a way to deal with it.”

“Like how? After a bite there’s no way back, trust me, I would know.”

“I didn’t say we’d find a way to revert it, I said we’d deal with it. Remus, I’d rather be a werewolf than lose you.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m awful.” I’m crushing on your boyfriend, and on you for fucks sake, he thought “You’d be better off–“

You wouldn’t let him finish that phrase “–don’t bullshit me like that,” you said sternly “There isn’t a bIoody universe in which I’d be better off without you, on which any of us would. Not one!”

“But I hurt you. Even as you ran, I chased behind you and then I dug my claws on–“

“–It was a scratch.”

“Stop cutting me off, damn it!” he spat, a little annoyed. “And it wasn’t a scratch, Peter told me how you shivered all night.”

“Well then stop saying stupid shit and I will stop cutting you off!” you responded exasperated. Then you sighed, placing one of your hands on your temple. The hand that wasn’t glued to Remus’ “freaking little Wormtail ratted me out.” you mumbled.

“I literally kept pushing until my claws broke your soft skin, Moony could have broken your arm.”

“I would have survived.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Remus. You can’t make decisions for me,” you said slowly “I knew you were a werewolf for a couple of weeks before this happened, and I never even once considered to stop being your friend.”

“That was before…”

“And it’s the exact same thing now,” you responded with a thin smile. “I don’t care if you’re a werewolf, I don’t care if Moony scratched me and made me hungry, and sensitive to temperatures and thirsty. I don’t care if my arm hurts or if I have to change my bandages every couple of hours and add more of Lily’s magic mixture or take painkillers. And that’s because, no matter what, you’re still Remus, and I wouldn’t want you to be any different,” you gave his hand a squeeze “I’m not gonna let you push me away because you’re terrified I might be scared of Moony.”

“But you were terrified of me! The nightmares, the boggart, the…”

“That was before I met Moony.”

“What?”

“He’s beautiful Remus, you’re beautiful.”

“What?!” he repeated, a little louder now.

You took a deep breath “Yes, the nightmares, the beast. I was scared because a huge thing chased after me, squashing me and throwing me around countless times. But Remus, I had never gotten to see it, not really, I was too busy running away from it to pay attention. Did you know he has your eyes?” Your kind eyes, you thought. “The golden specks that are more present near the moon? I could see them, and I wasn’t scared anymore.”

“And that was dumb, leaving my wand on the ground–“

“–I said I would stop interrupting if you stopped with the stupid comments.”

“It’s the truth.”

You wanted to argue, but it really had been a stupid thing to do, you had been so mesmerised by the wolf, that perhaps you really weren’t thinking straight. Not that it would be expected, especially after everything you had gone through previous to that. “Fine then, one part brave, three parts fool, I’m a Gryffindor after all. Regardless, I’m not scared of Moony, not anymore, not now I know It’s you.”

“That’s stupid too,” he added, you could feel a slight change in his tone, he was a lot more relaxed now, he’s joking, you realised.

“Well you have a very stupid friend, get over it,” you joked with a smile, “Are you going to stop avoiding me now?”

Remus sighed “How could I abandon my potions partner?” he asked, a small smirk drawing itself on his lips.

You chuckled, your hands, the ones that were still intertwined with each other, dangled as your shoulders shook, “That’s the spirit,” you said, your sight flickering towards his hand, and the way it held yours. You brushed your thumb gently over a particularly thick scar on the back of his hand. Remus shivered, but you were so cold you assumed it was for the same reason that you would, werewolves were clearly more sensible to temperature.

“Your hand is very cold,” he said as he tightened his grip.

“It’s freezing here,” you responded, “you feel it too, don’t you? You shivered.”

He cleared his throat “Yeah,” he lied “kinda cold.”

“Your hand’s nice and warm tho,” you acknowledged.

“I had it under the covers,” he lied again. He wondered why you hadn’t separated your hands, not because he wanted you to do it, but rather because he was dreading the moment you did, “how’s the arm?” He asked, nodding towards it.

You shrugged, “It’s healing… your ribs? I broke them didn’t I?”

“It was the Whomping Willow.”

“Yeah, the tree, and my carefully executed plan.”

That had him shaking his head in amusement “How did you know it would work?”

You swallowed, you could lie and say you used maths or highly advanced magic to calculate things to the tea, but enough secrets had been held between you and Remus already “I didn’t,” you admitted “The idea just came to me and I used my instinct to know when to jump.”

“You’re insane,” he said with a shake of his head, he was half pissed, half amused you had managed to pull it off “and brilliant.”

You frowned, a small smile playing on your lips “I’ll take that as a compliment,” there was a silence and you leaned in to sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to hurt the boy as you sat, your head still turned to him “Tom said you’d be out tomorrow.”

“Is that how you found out I was avoiding you?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

You nodded “Yeah, that and Poppy looking at me so pitifully, even Sirius seemed like he was suspicious after a while.”

He winced “Sorry ‘bout that… But yeah, she said I could leave tomorrow, she kept me here tonight just in case.”

“Well, thank Godric she did, this would’ve been an awkward conversation to have in front of the boys,” you teased “especially when I didn’t even let you speak.”

“I was being twat.”

“Yeah, you were,” you agreed, a small teasing smile on your face. He scooted slightly to the side to give you more space to sit, then pulled your hand so you moved in a little bit more.

There was silence, a rather comfortable one, but Remus broke it, he was now rubbing circles on your hand “You were here when Pomfrey gave me the Skellegro,” he said, and then turned his gaze to you “Weren’t you?”

You nodded “Sirius and Lily brought me over for dittany and silver dust, the scratch wasn’t healing until Lily made some a paste.”

“So you were bleeding all night…” he said, guilt filling his expression.

You sighed “It’s fine, I heal fast.”

Remus looked to the side, barely spotting the bruise on your neck “Is that from when they…?” he asked, pointing towards it.

You opened your eyes wider and pulled the collar of the sweater you were wearing up, blushing at the memory of Sirius kissing your neck as he had you flushed against the stone wall of one of the passageways “Um… I… no it’s…”

Remus understood a sour expression playing on his face that he masked with disgust “Ugh you and Pads are gross.”

You hit him on the arm playfully “As if you’d never done it,” you chastised “Oh.. by the way, what’s with you and Alice?” you asked with an arched eyebrow and a suggestive smile.

Remus felt a pang in his chest, the cause was in the way you’d asked, so casually and playfully. You were clearly teasing him, and also clearly not into him. And then he cursed himself for feeling jealous, of course, she’s not into me, she’s into Sirius, her boyfriend. “We… I mean…” how the fuck do I tell her we’re only having fun without sounding like an ass? It's not like I can tell her I’m using Alice as a distraction, that’d be way worse.

“You’re not in love with her, are you?” you asked, with a rather apprehensive tone.

“Does that make me an asshole?”

You shook your head “I’m sure she’s not in love either,” you said with a sigh “Todd told me she likes to have fun and then… Well, I don’t think that makes her a bad person per se, as long as she’s honest about it.”

“She is,” he reassured, “she’s fun too.” Remus wasn’t sure fun was a very accurate description, not even close to distracting, but it seemed like the right thing to say.

“That’s good. You deserve to have fun,” you said with a smile “Though I’m sure you’d easily find someone for a deeper connection if you were looking for it.”

Remus scoffed, shaking his head “Yeah sure, until they find out I’m a monst–“

“–We’re not going to keep calling you that, Remus,” you interrupted. “And I think they would. Just think about it, all of the people who know are still there for you, no matter what. We’re here, and if someone really loved you, they would be there for you too. And if they weren’t then they don’t deserve you.” He gave you a look of disbelief “Honest, if I were dating you, and then I found out. Even if I had gone through the same thing I went through that night, I’d still date you.”

Remus wasn’t sure whether to be happy or cry at your statement “But you’re dating Sirius.” It was almost bitter the way he said it, but it slipped past you.

“Well duh, but hypothetically, I’d love you either way. And I mean, how many people can say they’re dating a sexy werewolf, that’s gotta give you some points…”

Remus grabbed one of the pillows from his side and threw it at your face, he didn’t wanna talk about depressing shit anymore.

“Oi! What was that for?!”

“You were getting too sappy with me,” he said with a diverted smile.

You narrowed your eyes at him, a mirroring smile on your lips “Oh you’re a twat,” you said as you hit him on the side lightly, he groaned and you winced, brows instantly furrowing in concern “Sorry…” He nodded, but a small smile showed on his soft lips, like he was holding back a laugh. You quickly realised he had faked it and hit him again in return “That’s a nasty trick, you shouldn’t take advantage of your hurt state.”

“The one that you induced?” he said as his grin widened, teasing you again. You gasped in shock, and laughed afterwards, hitting him again a couple more times.

“Oi, oi, that’s enough…” he said as he grabbed onto your hand, laughing along with you.

He had been soft when he grabbed you, but he was so strong even if you had wanted to, you wouldn’t have been able to move your arm, but instead of dwelling on the boy’s strength, you just laughed merrily, leaning in so far down that your hair brushed over his chest. He could smell it, and it was as delightful as ever, perhaps a bit more now that he knew you wouldn’t avoid him just because of his condition. He took a deep breath as you laughed, almost feeling guilty for enjoying the moment so much.

You cannot love her, it is sin, said a voice in his head as he listened to your giggles, but why does it feel like heaven then?

“Can you turn back into the fox?” he asked, despite himself. Perhaps he was already so drunk on you, and your laughs that he wasn’t thinking straight. You turned your gaze to him, as you let your laughs die out. An arched eyebrow looking at him questioning “You got to see Moony, but I only got to see the fox through his eyes. I wanna see her with my eyes,” he reasoned, although he wasn’t sure if he was actually reasoning.

“Seems fair enough,” you said with a shrug “It’s Vixen, by the way.”

“Who’s Vixen?”

“Me,” you said as if it was obvious “I mean… the fox, she is. Wormmy and Prongs chose it, Sirius said it fit.”

Remus hummed in response “It certainly does,” he said as he looked at you, the blue moonlight was still illuminating your features, and you certainly looked as charming as ever, tantalising, beguiling even. And the small cut on your lip? The one that he had noticed since the day at the Shrieking Shack and hadn’t disappeared from your face yet, along with the hickey Sirius had left on your neck, made you look as fierce as ever.

Remus wondered for a second what it would feel like to leave a matching one on the other side of your neck, what would it feel like for Sirius to leave one on his? He knew he was yearning for something he couldn’t have, alas, he had yearned for a normal life so often, he was already used to the feeling. But his fantasies about being normal were never as sweet as his fantasies of you, of Sirius. Of either of your lips attached to his neck or his lips attached to yours, to Sirius’s silky pale skin or to your soft velvety neck. To your collarbone, to the indents that made it almost impossible for him to look back at your face. He remembered you in your Halloween costume again, he remembered Sirius’s devilish smile and matching outfit, and he had to adjust the bedsheets underneath, clearing his throat as he tried to get back on earth.

It’s Moony’s fault, It’s Moony’s fault! Did she notice? Will she buy it if I tell her that?

“Is it really a good idea for me to turn into Vixen here? Isn’t it like… dangerous for your wounds and stuff?”

Remus frowned, buffing diverted “You’ve got rabies or something?”

You gasped again “Of course I don’t! How would you feel if I asked you the same thing?!” He shrugged in response and you considered hitting him again. “Fine then,” you said “but I will bite if you try anything weird.”

“Define anything weird…” he teased.

“I’d rather bite instead,” you retorted “It’ll be my payback for the scratch,” you said with a diverted smile before shrinking into Vixen. You were still on the bed as Remus looked at you. You were small, smaller than normal, and certainly smaller than Padfoot, a good deal less than half as tall as him.

“So you are a little witch in the end,” he teased as he looked at you, you bared your teeth at him for a second, and turned your head, “Aww… don’t be like that!” You shook your head and walked a little closer to him, feeling the soft bed give way under your paws.

You stared at him curiously, and you understood why he wanted to see you as a fox so much, it was completely different, the way in which you perceived someone being animal or human. Remus, for example, seemed a lot bigger when you looked at him from the eyes of Vixen. You could also feel the heat radiating from him, which is why you had almost instinctively walked closer. And just like you had been lured by Moony when you left the wand on the floor, Vixen seemed to somehow be lured by Remus.

You wondered if you were to lose your mind, and be more fox than human, would you still feel just as beguiled by the boy?

Remus was still looking at you when he extended his hand as if he wanted to pet you, but he pulled it back seconds later when he remembered Peter had once straight up bit him when he tried to do it for the first time, and you had threatened to bite. But what you did instead was surprising, since you walked closer and placed your head underneath his extended palm, nuzzling into it like a cat would.

When Remus started brushing his fingers over your head you leaned in closer, allowing him to scratch just behind your ears, which had you relax so much you almost allowed yourself to lay on the bed. When he pulled away his hand you nuzzled his arm with your nose, so he would come back “Needy, aren’t we?” he teased. You didn’t even care to respond. His hands were so big they almost covered your entire head, and so warm too, it was like having a heated blanket that also gave massages.

Maybe it was the canine side of you, but he started scratching a particular spot that had you wagging your tail like a small puppy. Remus laughed when he noticed “You still cold?” he asked when he felt your cold paw brush against his forearm. You nuzzled closer to his hand in response. “Wanna come here?” he asked, patting his chest. You tilted your head, looking at his chest rise and fall, still feeling the heat coming from it.

Maybe it’s weird, shouldn’t have aske– Remus didn’t get to finish his thoughts, you had already climbed all the way up to his chest, fast and careful, trying to avoid the side where you knew the Whomping Willow had hit him. He smiled as you nuzzled your entire body against him, allowing your tail to almost wrap itself around you, bringing a little more warmth into the equation. You then bumped your head against his chest softly.

“What’s that little witch? You want me to pet you some more?” he asked, but he wasn’t teasing this time, the cocky undertone you’d heard earlier completely gone this time around. You allowed your head to rest and closed your eyes as you moved up and down along his every breath.

Eventually, he brought his hand over you again, this time resting it over your back, and moving it softly along your fur, with soft strokes from your head to your mid back, your only reaction was to close your eyes and enjoy the way his fingers intertwined with your fur. You wondered if cuddling with Sirius as a fox would feel just as nice and decided you’d have to ask him to try, even if you had no idea how you’d put that into words.

Either way, Remus was awfully good at cuddling: big, warm, heavy hands, and a total people pleaser. You realised when he figured out the spot that made your tail waggle and focus his scratches there from then on. You had been so comfortable with the boy, that you didn’t even notice the moment you fell asleep. He did see you; and was extra quiet for a while, the only sound being the one of his breaths and your light snoring, or what sounded like snoring at least, Remus wasn’t sure if foxes actually had the ability to snore.

He had been admiring the way you slept, so peaceful, and so beautiful too, he was sure all the foxes would fall for you in the forest if they met you, not that he would allow any of them to lay a paw on you. Which he then realised might have been one of the stupidest things to ever cross his mind. But at least he wasn’t thinking of you and Sirius. Except when he was and he forced himself to look back at Vixen, letting his anxiety melt away as he continued to brush his hands over your soft red fur.

And as his anxiety left, so did most of his negative thoughts, and he was engulfed in this ever so peaceful stance that he was sure to cuddle Vixen for the rest of his life had he the chance. After some time, he too started feeling sleepy, his eyelids heavy and his stroking slower, lazier, he too fell asleep. And you must have stayed like that, sleeping on top of him, your slight weight comforting him the same way a weighted blanket would, for at least a couple of hours. Since next thing you knew, there was a high-pitched scream and you felt yourself being pushed off Remus with the force of a spell.

You fell on your leg and let out a cry of pain, you were rather confused when you noticed the woman that had used a spell against you had been no other than Madam Pomfrey.

“Wait no! Poppy, stop!” you heard Remus say, panicked and sitting up on the bed to get the woman’s attention. You shook your head and attempted to stand, only for your leg to give in again. You huffed, and while wincing, forced yourself up. You saw Pomfrey approaching you, her wand still in her hands as she pointed it at you.

You took a couple of steps back, feeling a sharp pain whenever you moved your front leg. “She’s my pet!” Remus said, “Don’t hurt her.”

Pomfrey seemed distracted by the boy’s words and you took that as a chance to scurry under one of the beds and then all the way to the door.

Every step was agonising, but the adrenaline kept you going all the way to the door that seemed to have shown up out of nowhere. You looked to the sides of the hall to make sure there was no one around before springing back into your human form and pushing the door open, getting in and closing it behind you. You could feel the stickiness of your arm.

Evans is going to kill me, you thought as you leaned in on the door, allowing yourself to rest for a second before turning to look at the place you had ended up in. And when you did you were surprised, since it looked just like the infirmary, you frowned, and opened the door to see if you had run to the same place that you’d left, but it was positively a different hallway. Different paintings, different statues, different doors, it’s definitely not the same place, you thought.

You went back in after a second and looked around again, now clutching your wounded arm, and tilted your head as you stared. Upon closer inspection, it was most definitely not the same infirmary either. In fact, near the back, there was a rather large mirror and a supply closet near it, the infirmary had large windows instead. You walked near the middle of the room and looked around you, there weren’t many beds either, and the place seemed to be filled with things that could be useful. From warm blankets to a sink and clean rags close to it.

You blinked a couple of times, taking it all in, the usefulness, the door that seemed to have shown up out of nowhere, you let out a short breath, realisation hitting you “The Room of Requirements,” you whispered.

Then started nodding, hyping yourself up for what you’d have to do next. You turned around to see if there was a clock somewhere, which there indeed was, a huge grandfather clock near the door, it was 4 am, and you had just enough time to clean things up and go back to your room, change and get back to class.

You took your shirt off and winced when you realised the bIoody bandage, if you kept acting so recklessly, you weren’t sure it was ever actually going to heal. You walked towards the sink, and wet one of the rags before passing it over the broken flesh. You winced as the warm piece of cloth passed over the open part of the wound. You stared at it for a second once it was clean, even after all the misadventures, it certainly looked better than it had done the previous night. But it hurt just as much as it had, the painkillers might have been wearing thin by then.

You walked towards the supply closet, your vision a little blurry due to the sharp pain. Luckily the first thing you spotted was some painkillers, you instantly drank a bit of it and placed the rest in your pocket. You kept rummaging through it and found dried dittany leaves and some silver dust. So you grabbed a mortar, and some beeswax and mugwort, which were the few things you remembered Lily had used to make her green paste, and recreated it to the best of your abilities. With your dominant arm incapacitated -and drowning in pain since the painkillers hadn’t done their thing- you clenched the mortar handle in your other hand and started to mix.

Once the paste was ready, you washed your hand and with trembling fingers, you gingerly spread the paste across the open wound. A couple of tears started streaming down your cheeks as you did. You must have missed something when you made the paste since instead of making you feel instant relief, it stung like hell for what felt like an eternity before gradually numbing the pain.

Once you had gone through most of the scratch you used the back of your hand to wipe your tears and sniffed as you took some more in your finger, hesitating for a second before biting your lip and finally placing the paste on the parts that you hadn’t covered yet.

When you finished with it, you felt utterly drained. The pain was still there, your arm had even started to throb. You let your head fall back and considered just throwing yourself on the floor, the temptation to just rest almost agonising, but you knew you still had to wrap a bandage around your wounded arm. You were fumbling with the ends of the bandage roll when you remembered Sirius’ words “Don’t be stubborn and let us help!”

You swallowed, he probably would have run off to help you had you asked, but Sirius must have been just as tired as you were, and even if he hadn’t been hurt physically, you were sure the events of the night had taken a toll on his mind, heck they clearly had done it on yours, so, despite his command, you decided to deal with it in your own. You continued trying for a couple of minutes, and after what felt like an eternity –and in a fit of desperation– you hurled it against the mirror. It bumped down and rolled off, one of the ends staying behind as the rest of the roll continued unravelling.

You sighed and went to grab another one from the supply closet and started trying once again. This time around you actually managed to open it after a couple of minutes and brought your arm up. You held the end against your arm with your chin and you started wrapping. Eventually, you switched your manual labour for your wand and used a simple spell to levitate the roll of bandages around your arm, making sure that it was just tight enough to seal the wound but not so tight as to cause additional pain, mirroring the way both Sirius and Lily had done it earlier.

When you were done, you turned to the watch again, you’d hoped you had enough time to lay in one of the beds of the infirmary but when you realised you had spent over an hour there you cast a quick disillusionment charm and sneaked back to the common room. You did consider staying in the Room of Requirements and not going back, but your friends would probably worry if they didn’t see you at all in the morning, Lily would be panicked and the boys, especially Sirius, would cause a mini-scandal. You could almost hear Sirius ask something like “How the hell did you lose my girlfriend Evans?” Which is why, in the end, you decided against it.

You picked up the mess with a wave of your wand and put your shirt and sweater back on, giving a once over to the room before leaving and walking through the halls and passageways trying to make as little sound as possible. Once you arrive at your common room you let yourself fall into one of the single couches by the fire. Not bothering to counter your disillusionment charm, as you used your wand to kindle the fire. You sank deeper on the couch and sighed, closing your eyes for a snooze when you heard footsteps.

You turned to the side and spotted Sirius and James walking down, you waved at them, and when they didn’t respond, you remembered you were still kind of invisible. You were about to cancel the spell off when you saw Sirius was already leaning to sit down, on the exact same spot you were. You moved your wounded arm to the side and allowed the boy to sit “Hey babe,” you whispered as you wrapped your arm around his waist, Sirius pretty much jumped off and turned around looking mortified.

You just laughed at his reaction, “Vixen?!” you heard James ask as he squinted his eyes in your direction, you just kept laughing as you finally waved your wand over yourself again, allowing the spell to vanish, the painkiller potion was finally doing its thing and you already felt a lot better.

“Hey Prongs!” you said with a smile.

“What the hell was that Stashine, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Don’t you get one of those whenever you look into my eyes?” you asked with a playful pout, James laughed again, and your boyfriend just looked at you surprised.

“How did you know it would be Sirius the one to sit there?” James asked.

“I was already here, I just took the chance,” you said, scooting to the side to allow Sirius to sit by your side, even in the small space. He didn’t think about it twice and sat beside you, pulling you by the waist half over one of his legs so you’d be more comfortable.

“Absolutely brilliant!” James complimented, Sirius threw him a look “And you disillusionment charm too, I’d never seen one so good.”

“Thanks!” you said with a smile “I’ve been using it a lot recently.”

“You do know you can just take the Invisibility Cloak, right?”

You nodded, not if I have to tell you what I need it for, you thought. “That’s very nice of you Jammie,” you said with a smile.

“How’s the arm?” Sirius asked.

You looked at him for a second, a tight smile on your lips before you nodded “Great.”

Sirius frowned, not quite buying it, but didn’t press further. “Why were you out here, luv?” James asked “I’d assume Lily would rather be checking on you instead of having you here by yourself.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you said pointing to your eyebags “And the fire seemed tempting… and also I went to check on Remus who was avoiding me.”

“You noticed?” Sirius asked about at the same time James said something like “You went to see Remus by yourself?!”

“Of course I noticed! I went to check on him like 5 times and he was asleep all of them. Tom comes up and says he had a chat with him seconds after we went to visit. It was suspicious enough. And then there was Pomfrey’s pitiful look whenever I showed up…”

“He sometimes does that… I assumed he was doing it when we went before lunch. Did you get him to talk to you?” Sirius asked.

You nodded “Yeah, we’ve sorted things out, had to call him out on how dumb he was being though.”

Sirius laughed at the casual way you said it, and pulled you a bit closer to him “That’s my girl!”

You were distracted for a good second, remembering the way Remus had pulled Vixen closer and how similar it had been to the way Sirius had done it, you wondered if it was a Brit thing, to be so touchy –which you already knew Sirius was- or if instead it was something very particular of the boys.

“It’s kinda late for flying, isn’t it?” James asked as he looked at the clock, clearly the messy sleepless nights had also taken a toll on him.

“Who are you and what have you done to James Potter?” You teased.

“Don’t mess with him, Kit, he might change his mind.”

“Kit?” You asked, turning to him with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugged “If you can call me Puppy I can call you Kit,” he said simply, to which you laughed, it wasn’t that you didn’t like it, rather you were a little surprised. And really, the more you thought about it, it was rather endearing.

“Does that mean we’re not flying then?” you asked, turning back to James, “even if the next game is on Sunday?”

James groaned, placing a pillow over his head to muffle the sounds. “Now that’s straight-up torture,” Sirius said with a teasing smile as he pointed at James.

“Either way, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to play, we might have to move the–“

“–Don’t even joke about it Potter!” you said in a serious tone.

James winced, you didn’t call him James, not even Prongs, you were not happy about his suggestion, but he was the captain, and he had to look out for his team, he had to look out for you, “You’re hurt.”

“It was barely a scratch!”

“You keep saying that, but I see the way you clutch onto your arm when the painkillers wear off–“

“I’ll be like new by Sunday!” you argued again “I heal fast.”

“Sunday is in three days!”

“Back me up on this?” you asked, turning to Sirius, who had a small frown on his face.

He couldn’t find a way to say what he wanted to say without upsetting you “Darling, maybe Prongs is right…”

You turned to him exasperated “Don’t block me like this James! We’re playing Slytherin, I want to show those assholed that they didn’t–” You cut yourself off, not being able to finish the sentence either.

James’ face seemed to soften at your words, Sirius and Remus had somewhat told them what happened that night, or at least what they knew, and what they assumed. You hadn’t talked to them much about it, let alone go into detail, but either way, he understood. He got why you were so desperate to prove that you could still fight -or fly in this case–, you needed to show them that no matter what they did, they wouldn’t bring you down, “We’ll think about it,” he conceded. You were still looking at him with a frown, “Listen if your arm really is better off by then, then you’ll play.”

“You promise you’ll let me?”

Sirius was looking at James reproachfully, as if he wasn’t happy with his answer, but didn’t say a thing. He could try to convince you of dropping it later, although he was pretty sure you wouldn’t change your mind about it, not unless you were bedridden or something.

“I promise we’ll think about it.” You nodded, that was probably as good as it would get. Now all you had to do was play the part of someone who was not affected at all by the hit and you’d be able to play on Sunday.

“Aren’t you hungry luv?” Sirius asked.

And strangely enough, you weren’t that hungry, in fact, you hadn’t been hungry since you went to visit Remus, which made you assume it was a Lycanthropy thing. Regardless, a warm cup of tea, along with some toast did sound incredibly good, so you nodded, motioning to stand up when you saw Remus walk in, he looked visibly relieved when he spotted you, even as you were almost sitting on Sirius’ lap.

“Good to see you’re all right, after the fall I thought you might have–“

“–What fall?” Sirius asked, turning to you.

“That?! It was nothing…” you said, “I had turned into Vixen and Pomfrey saw me, and was probably horrified since I was close to Rem, and then she pushed me off with a spell. I mean it hurt a little but it was nothing…”

“You were thrown in the air and fell to the ground, and it was nothing?” Sirius asked as he toyed with the hem of your sweater’s sleeve, to see if he could lift it enough to check on your wound.

“Yes, Pomfrey wasn’t trying to hurt me, and Remus stopped her from following.”

Remus was sure he’d seen you break the fall with the same arm that was hurt but decided not to press any further, since you clearly didn’t want to go too much into detail. He plopped down next to James on the sofa and turned to Sirius “How’s the plan going?” He asked the long-haired boy.

“What plan?” you asked with furrowing your eyebrows just a little bit.

“The revenge plan.”

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snowyslytherinowl · 9 months

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Joyous Nightmares - Part 3

PAIRING: Severus Snape x (Professor) Reader

SUMMARY: A year after surviving the Second Wizarding War, Severus Snape begins to have joyous nightmares where he dreams of having a wife and a daughter. These dreams bring him nightmares because he doesn't believe that he'll ever get married or have a family of his own. So what happens when the wife in his dreams is revealed to be you?

Warning: Nothing graphic, but Severus’s near-fatal attack by Nagini is described. Angst and nightmares once more.

Part 1 | Part 2

*GIF isn't mine, unsure of credit

Sleep overcomes an unwilling Severus that night. Dreams also invade his sleep since his dreamless sleep potions haven’t finished brewing.

Nighttime approaches as Severus walks down the path toward Hagrid’s hut. He wonders if his daughter had fun with the gamekeeper that day. His question is answered when the door of the hut bursts open and she comes running towards him. For a five-year-old, she runs amazingly fast.

“Daddy, Daddy! Hagrid showed me unicorns and hippogriffs!” she shouts. Practically launching herself at his legs, she grasps the fabric of his trousers and points at Buckbeak. “He let me pet Buckbeak too!” The gamekeeper emerges from the hut and approaches the pair, smiling.

“Oi, Professor Snape! Sorry. I didn' mean ter let her run out o' the house, tha' one.” he apologizes. “Yer daughter is a sweet little girl.”

“Thank you for watching her and showing her your creatures, Hagrid. She has been excited to play with the live versions of her toys for a long time.” He smiles down at his daughter and cocks his head in Hagrid’s direction. “Sweetheart, what do you say to Hagrid?”

“Thank you!” she says and hugs Hagrid’s legs as she smiles sweetly up at him.

“O' course, little one,” he replies and pats her affectionately on the head.

Severus’s daughter grabs his hand and they walk back to Hogwarts together. Along the way, she rambles about every creature she petted and fed. Severus warmly smiles at his daughter’s excitement. Several students stare as Severus passes by them with his daughter in tow. “Should you not be returning to your houses?” he sneers at them to protect his reputation as the harsh dungeon bat. The students quickly scamper away and Severus beckons his daughter to their quarters.

He pushes the door open to the sound of music playing from a small radio and fire crackling from the fireplace. Water rushes from the shower and Severus’s daughter is about to open the bathroom door when he stops her. She looks disappointed, but he reassures her, “Wait for Mummy to finish her shower and I will warm up milk for you. All right?”

She nods and jumps onto the sofa. He searches the fridge for milk as the bathroom door creaks open, revealing you in pajamas. “Hi. I thought I heard you two coming in. How was Hagrid’s, sweetheart?”

“He showed me unicorns and hippogriffs!” she gushes. A unicorn plushie flies into her hands and she changes the body of the unicorn to have a yellowish tint. “One of them looked like Angel, but she was a baby so she was yellow.”

“How cute is that!” you say enthusiastically. “Next time we can look at them together!” The both of you giggle and Severus smiles as he turns on the stove. He warms the milk for his daughter and when he hands it to her, he finally notices her features. She has his black hair while every other feature mirrors yours: the eyes, nose, lips, and cheeks. Soon after she finishes the milk, her parents wash her and put her to sleep.

Once Severus changes into his nightclothes, he cuddles with you in bed. Water remaining from your hair wets his shirt, but he doesn’t care. He focuses on how he can feel your breasts through the thin fabric of your pajamas and how your legs are practically fused to his. He tilts his head down and sees you looking down at him. “Are you tired?” you whisper and move your hand from his jaw to his chest. You take more time tracing your hand down his stomach and where he needs it most while wickedly batting your eyelids at him.

“Not when your hand is all over me.”

You laugh softly and kiss his neck. “Then let’s stay up a little longer.” You swing one leg fully over his leg and lower your body onto him. Severus tilts himself upwards and presses a kiss onto your lips.

A whirlwind of emotions runs through Severus, but the emotion that prevails is longing. He considers you to be a friend and has never recognized that perhaps, he does harbor romantic feelings for you. You have the sweetest smile, the gentlest eyes, and the most beautiful laugh. How was he such a fool not to realize the true meaning of the warmth enveloping him whenever you laugh? And Merlin, that dream. He selfishly wishes it had carried on so he could feel your body enveloping his.

Then a sense of guilt hits him. You see him as a friend and nothing more, for Merlin’s sake. He’s ashamed that he dreamt of you in such a way. How can he possibly sit next to you in the Great Hall in a few hours and look at you like nothing has happened? The worst part is that you won’t even know why he’s ignoring you. But it’s better this way; he can’t fathom the look of disgust on your face if you knew that he dreamt of your hands roaming over his body. You’re too good, too kind for this. Especially since you just offered to accompany him to Hogsmeade and the Black Lake.

This is too much for him to handle and his body begins to shake. Tears run down his cheeks and sobs wrack his body. The nearest vase becomes the victim of his emotions as he throws it at the wall, shattering it into porcelain shards. He kicks a messy pile of books and they go flying, knocking down other items they’ve hit. He grabs his wand and explodes a glass jar, spilling its contents everywhere. Severus attempts to calm himself by balling his fingers into a tight fist until his knuckles go white and blood is drawn from the fingernails pressing his palm. Slow, shallow breaths escape him, but they do nothing to calm his internal state.

Finally, he collapses onto the bed, head between his hands, and allows the emotions of all the dreams to overtake him once more. A selfish part of him wishes that he truly did have a daughter that looks like you. Wishful thinking, that is, considering that you’d never dream of dating him, let alone marrying him.

A knock sounds on the door, startling Severus. He swallows his sobs and wipes his eyes with his hands. Though, whoever is on the other end knows he’s inside since they knock more insistently this time. He attempts to ignore them again. Cold chills run down his body when he hears their voice. “Severus, I know you’re in there! Please, open up!”

It’s you. What a fool he is for forgetting that you’re patrolling the corridors tonight. He doesn’t know what to do. Leave you at the door or face the one person he never wants to face again? Who is he kidding? He wants to see you more than anyone in the world, but he has to push you away. Then again, it would be cruel to you to completely ignore you, so he settles on shouting, “I am fine! You can leave!”

“Stop lying to me! I heard crashes in there!” Usually, your voice is gentle and kind; now, you sound insistent and a little desperate. A pang of guilt hits him once more, so he swings the door open.

The light from your wand shines onto Severus, causing him to shrink back in an attempt to hide his puffy red eyes. With the way you’re staring at him, you must think of him as an ugly, pitiful creature. “Oh, Severus. What happened? I’ve been worried about you for so long! Please, talk to me,” you beg and you sound like you’re on the verge of tears. How sweet you are for caring so deeply about him.

“I… I…” he stammers and you draw your head back to look at him expectantly. He quickly breaks eye contact and points at the smashed jar and its contents oozing on the floor. “I am upset because I dropped my favorite potion ingredient.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “I don’t believe you.” The concern is still there, but he feels like a silly schoolboy being caught in a lie.

Sighing, Severus whispers, “What do you want me to say?” He wishes you would leave him to his thoughts and accept his lies, but Merlin you will not give up. It would be so much easier for you to stop caring about him.

“The truth,” you say and let go of him. He misses the warmth of your hug, but you soon take his hands into yours. Blood reddens his normally pale skin and he’s thankful that your wand is pointing downward so you can’t see his face too well in the darkness. “You don’t know how horrible I feel every time you walk into breakfast dead tired like you’re an inferi or something. Sure, you’re grumpy most of the time, but you snap at the students more than usual. I know something is wrong and it kills me that you won’t talk to me about it. I’m your friend and I promise that I won’t judge you.”

“Yes, you will,” he grunts and tears reform in his eyes. Get a hold of yourself, Severus tells himself. He blinks away the tears and retracts his hands.

“What?”

“You will judge me,” he whispers. “You have no idea what I have been thinking and you would be revolted if you knew.”

“You’re wrong.” You sound more determined as you speak. “I’ve always known that you’re a good person even if your tongue is sharp. When you killed Dumbledore and took over as Headmaster, the other professors and staff members would rip you apart behind your back. I never partook in that. I knew that you were serving as a double spy and that every deed you did was so we could win the war. No matter what happened, my belief in you has never wavered. So whatever this is, I don’t think it can be worse than pretending to be a Death Eater.”

He turns around and steps toward a shelf without the broken glass so you can’t see the tears falling out of his eyes because of your utter devotion to him. How could he go through with his plan of ignoring you when you’re so loyal to him? Caution is thrown to the wind when Severus confesses, “I have been having nightmares. In these nightmares, I dream that I have a wife and child.”

A pause fills the air and Severus finally looks you in the eye. You look somewhat relieved now that he’s confided in you, but your face has fallen. “Do you not want to get married and have kids?”

A year ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated to give a firm, indefinite “no.” Now, though? He supposes he does. A wife and child would certainly fill the loneliness he’s forever had in his heart. “I do. It is only that I…” he hesitates, “I do not believe that I will ever get married or have children.”

“Why’s that?”

Embarrassment burns at his cheeks and more tears threaten to spill from his eyes. Oddly, this feels worse than that moment by the Black Lake with Lily. It feels like you’re forcing him to confess how he feels for you, how he’s just realized that he longs for you no matter how genuine and supportive you seem to be. “Do not make me say it.”

“I don’t understand,” you say. Honesty fills your eyes, beckoning him to open up to you.

“Look at me. No woman would want to marry, let alone date me,” he says and he gestures at himself. He runs a finger along his greasy hair and hooked nose to demonstrate his point that he’s a hideous dungeon bat. A dry, humorless laugh escapes him in the hopes of lightening the mood.

“That’s not true,” you reply and step toward him. In the dim light from a glowing insect in a jar, Severus can see your eyes and the look in it is something he can’t decipher.

“I appreciate your words of consolation, yet they are nothing but a white lie,” he scoffs and turns away from you.

“They aren’t,” you whisper. You step towards him cautiously, in case he’ll swat you away. But he doesn’t. You move to him until you’re so close that he can feel your breath on his face.

For a second, Severus wishes that you’d kiss him. She would never want to do that, he thinks to himself. His cheeks redden in embarrassment at his inappropriate thoughts.

But your face is moving ever so close to him, and then you’re getting on your tippy toes, and your lips are hovering right next to his, and you finally kiss him. His head spins as your hands cup his face and pull him impossibly closer to you. He doesn’t know where to put his limp arms, how to breathe, or why you fancy him, but all that matters is the exhilarating feeling of your soft lips against his chapped lips.

You finally release him when you need air, but you lean your forehead against his and breathlessly laugh. With his newfound ability to move, he places his hands on yours and laughs with you.

Eternity seems to pass as you stare at each other until Severus whispers, “When?”

You understand without clarification and you tell him, “I don’t really know. I guess I always found you handsome.” Severus rolls his eyes and opens his mouth in response, but you silence him with a quick kiss. “I don’t want to hear any of it,” you say and kiss his nose. If you’re willing to kiss his nose, then perhaps he shouldn’t feel so insecure about it.

“After the battle, I noticed that you were missing from the Great Hall. I walked through the area with the wounded at least twice and I couldn’t bring myself to look at the dead until I had to. It was when I couldn’t find you amongst the dead either that I finally realized how I felt for you. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I missed out on the opportunity to tell you how I feel,” you whisper and give a dry laugh. If Severus wasn’t listening intently, he wouldn’t be able to hear your low voice. “But when you were healing, I didn’t want to burden you with how I felt. And then I guess I was too shy.”

Unbeknownst to Voldemort, Severus carried the antidote to Nagini’s venom wherever he went. When Voldemort left the Shrieking Shack and he gave his memories to Potter, he poured the vial down his throat and healed his bite wounds. The loss of blood knocked him out until the battle was won and even when he regained consciousness, he could barely find the energy to move. Although he eventually managed to apparate to an unoccupied building in Hogsmeade, he realized he wouldn’t be welcome amongst the others at Hogwarts. A desolate street seemed to be the best place to hide and he slumped along a wall, allowing himself to regain his strength.

Then he heard your voice calling out for him. At first, he thought he had fallen asleep and he was dreaming of you. But when you crouched in front of him and inspected his body for wounds, he vaguely recognized you as a real, living being. He didn’t question why you were looking for him or why you didn’t kill him as you apparated him to St. Mungo’s. Sometimes he pondered those questions, but he never asked you why.

“I am glad you found the courage to say something now.” Severus brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear and initiates the kiss this time. Gaining confidence with your confession and previous kisses, he lets his hands roam down your body until they rest on your waist. As his tongue slips between your lips, he thinks that he will never get tired of this delightful feeling.

XXX

Soft breaths sound around the bedroom. Severus feels your chest rising and lowering as you sleep cuddled against his body. One arm is wrapped around you and supports your head, while the other gently soothes the baby sleeping on his chest. He knows your daughter can’t sleep with her parents in bed for now, but he wants to enjoy comforting his child before he puts her in her crib.

The view outside the window isn’t the same as the one in his dreams; the grass outside is green and the flowers grow in beds around the yard, but other cozy houses surround his own. But perfectly recreating his joyous nightmares into a reality years later doesn’t matter to him. All that matters is that he has the two of you and that his joyous nightmares no longer haunt him; they only bring him joy.

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slytherinboysappreciation · 14 days

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Bullied - Prof. T. R. x platonic gn!Reader

A/N: this was originally written for this request, but I realized it was too angsty so I made it its own thing. Please read the warnings carefully! They’re there for a reason! This fic is completely unedited with no use of Y/N. Please be nice, I’m an inexperienced writer 💛 Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!!

CW: Bullying!!; descriptions of bullying; crying; shame; graphic descriptions of violence/injury!!; anxiety; mentions of the quills Umbridge used; detention; mentions of eating; Prof. Riddle becomes a safe space for reader; swearing; derogatory language towards reader; graphic descriptions of violence against reader!!!!; nausea; head wounds; vague mentions of blood; Dumbledore bashing; hurt/comfort, I guess; slightly fluffy ending?

I think that’s everything. Please please let me know if I’ve missed anything! If you don’t like it, don’t read it!!

2019 words

You were hiding in a corner of the library, silently crying. The library was your safe space; the only place in the whole school aside from your dorm where you didn’t have to worry about getting bullied.

And it had been invaded. Your bullies had come in today, destroying your peace with the very sight of them. Even worse, they’d ripped your books and blamed it on you.

Madame Pince had been thankfully skeptical, but the three of you still got detention. You were terrified of being in the same room alone for hours with those two.

As you sniffle and wipe your eyes, the sound of footsteps approaches your spot. You huddle up into a ball, hastily wiping your face in an attempt to hide that you were crying.

“You should be in bed.”

You look up, startled. It’s Professor Riddle, looking down at you with an unreadable expression.

“I— I was—“ You falter, unsure what to say. Telling the truth hadn’t worked with your head of house. There’s no way you’d expose your deepest shame to someone as imposing as Professor Riddle.

“Yes, sir,” you say meekly, slowly picking yourself up.

He watches you, hands tucked into his pockets. “Everything all right?”

Your eyes start to itch from crying so much. You rub at them before catching yourself. “Yes, sir. Just…”

He holds up a hand and pulls something out of his pocket. A handkerchief. “Next time, come to me.”

You take the handkerchief slowly. Next time… Was he saying… You couldn’t risk it.

“Yes, sir,” you mumble, starting to back away. He stops you with a hand on your shoulder.

“I mean it. Bullying has no place here at Hogwarts.”

You stare down at the floor, frail hope fluttering in your chest. You squash it with both hands.

“Thanks, Professor,” you say quietly. “But I’ve heard that before.”

With that, you shrug off his hand and walk away, clutching his handkerchief like a lifeline.

Your detention comes late the next night. You’re fully prepared for the usual horrors. Being forced to clean suits of armor by yourself until your fingers crack and bleed from the chemicals. Scrubbing floors till your knees are bruised and you can’t feel your arms.

Being a guinea pig for whatever malicious spell the two bullies of yours have cooked up.

Instead, you receive a different set of instructions. Your two bullies will be cleaning floors and suits of armor.

You will be writing lines with Professor Riddle.

You stare blankly at your head of house, baffled by the news. Writing lines? That’s a first year punishment, the easiest detention ever.

You show up outside Riddle’s office at exactly the time you’re supposed to. Without punishment or curses from your bullies, it’s easy to be on time.

You knock on the door, nervousness drumming through you. Why had he taken your detention? What was his plan with this? Was it some sort of worse punishment?

You’d heard about the cutting quills from Professor Umbridge’s reign of terror. Would this be something similar?

The door swings open, startling you so badly you jump. Professor Riddle raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment on your action.

“Come in. I have everything set up.”

You slowly follow him in, your nerves building with every step. He’s supposed to be the strictest teacher. The hardest on his students and the one urging them the most to reach their ambitions.

You sit at the desk he’s provided you, looking over the paper and quill in front of you. They look… just like a normal quill and paper.

“They’re perfectly safe. I’ve used that quill before.” Riddle watches you from his desk, that same inscrutable expression on his face:

You startle. Then flush with embarrassment. “Sorry, sir. I’ve just had… bad experiences before.”

He nods. “Here.”

You watch in disbelief as he picks up his own quill and ink pot and brings them over to you. Then he takes yours and moves them over to his desk.

“Is that better?”

You just stare at him for a moment. Then your sense comes back to you and you nod. “Y-Yes, sir.”

“Please start with your lines. I’ve written the first one out for you. You will fill the front and back of the page.”

“Yes, sir.”

You lower your head and pick up the quill he’d given you. You don’t know what you did to receive such light detention, but you’re not complaining. It’s infinitely better than what you’d be doing otherwise.

You grimace at the thought and lower the tip of the quill to the page. With a deep breath, you start writing.

Over the next week, you start to warm to Professor Riddle. It takes two whole days to stop being so jumpy around him, and two more days before you slowly start to believe his words.

Mainly because he will not stop asking you about your bullies. About who they are. What they do. It would be annoying if it wasn’t so gratifying that someone finally seems to care.

You don’t really answer him, of course. You have enough self-preservation to know that much, but you do start to reveal smaller details.

Like how you’re always late to class because of them. Or how they bother you when you try to study. Or even how you’re afraid to eat meals outside of your dorm because of them.

Which is the reason you’re currently outside his office door again. You knock hesitantly, balancing your plate of food with one hand.

He opens the door and you walk in, sitting at the now familiar desk. You set down your plate and get comfortable.

“Thank you, sir,” you say quietly, picking up your fork.

“Of course.” Riddle nods and sits at his desk to eat his own lunch.

It’s strange; eating in peace for once. You don’t have to worry about slaps to the head or food being spilled on you or some new embarrassing secret being shared. You just eat your food.

It’s hard to admit, but Professor Riddle is starting to grow on you. He doesn’t make you talk; doesn’t force you to do things you don’t like. He just sits with that unreadable expression of his and lets you do the same.

You take your time eating your food, allowing yourself to savor the flavors. It’s a nice change of pace. One you could find yourself getting used to.

Once you’re done eating, you get up. “Thank you, sir.”

“Of course,” Professor Riddle says, glancing up from his own plate. “Enjoy the rest of your classes.”

“I will.” You give him a slight smile and leave his office.

Maybe things will actually be better after this.

You’re slammed against the wall. Hands grind your face against the stone, pinning you in place.

“You fucker!” It’s your bullies, clearly enraged. “You think you can tell on us and get away with it?!”

You panic, fear shooting through you.

“We almost got expelled because of you, you piece of shit!”

Your head is pulled back so you can see their angry faces.

“I didn’t say anything!“ you beg, starting to shake with panic and terror.

“Shut up! I swear to god, you dumb little—“

Your head is bashed against the wall. Your hearing cuts out, replaced by the loudest ringing you’ve ever heard. Your vision goes blurry. Something drips down your face, stinging your eyes.

Then, the hands are pulled off you. You’re vaguely aware of yelling as your legs give out and you crumple against the wall.

Your head throbs, pain shooting through your forehead as you lean your head against the wall. When you pull back to try and focus on it, red stains the stone.

Someone crouches down in front of you. A gentle hand tilts up your chin. You struggle to focus on the face, but your vision won’t cooperate.

The person says something, but you just blink. You can’t hear what they’re saying over the ringing in your ears.

Hands scoop you up, cradling you in strong arms. Nausea rises in your throat at the sudden motion.

The last thing you remember is throwing up.

You wake up in the Hospital Wing. You don’t remember much; just a bustling Madame Pomfrey and a warm, firm hand gently rubbing your back as you cry. The rest is a haze. It makes your head hurt to try and remember so you just give up.

After Madame Pomfrey pronounces you to be fine, you’re swept up to the Headmaster’s office. You sit nervously in a chair, fiddling with your fingers.

Headmaster Dumbledore’s normally kind expression has been replaced with a serious look.

“Hello,” he greets you solemnly. “I’m glad to hear you’re doing better.”

Something about the way he says it makes you doubt he means it. You say nothing in return.

Your Head of House bustles around behind you, muttering something under their breath. You look down at your hands and wish you were back in the Hospital Wing.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Dumbledore asks.

You shrug a little and don’t look up. “No.”

“We take bullying very seriously here at Hogwarts.”

You snort, then wince as your head aches from the action.

Dumbledore’s lips thin, and his look sharpens. “We understand you have been through some… issues with a few of our students.”

You bite your tongue to keep from saying anything rash.

“We’ve contacted your parents about the situation,” your Head of House adds. “But they haven’t replied yet.”

Your stomach churns. You’re well aware of that. Your parents have taken a hands off approach to your schooling since you started being bullied. You doubt they’ve even read the letter from the school.

“Unfortunately,” Dumbledore continues, “without the permission of a trusted adult, we cannot do much about the issue. The offending students will be given detention and strict warnings.”

“What?” Your eyes start to sting. “You’re just— You’re not going to do anything?”

Dumbledore raises his hands in a helpless gesture. “Without permission from a trusted adult—“

You can feel the tears building behind your eyes. “No! There has to be something you can do! I can’t— What if this happens again?!”

Dumbledore opens his mouth to say something when the door to his office flies open. Professor Riddle stands in the doorway, glaring at the Headmaster.

“A letter for you.” He says calmly. He approaches Dumbledore and hands him a letter. “I think you’ll find it contains everything you’ll require for the students’ expulsions.”

Dumbledore’s expression changes instantly. “Of course, Tom,” he says coolly, “I appreciate your care and concern for our students.”

Professor Riddle doesn’t even try to hide his sneer. “Someone has to do it.”

He gestures to you. “Come on.” It’s not a request. It’s an order.

You obey, getting to your feet and meekly following him out. As soon as you get down to the hallway, Professor Riddle turns to you.

“I’m sorry about that. You should be resting, not dealing with old fools.”

You blink up at him. “How did you…?”

“I owled your parents.”

He doesn’t elaborate and you decide you don’t want to know.

“Thank you, sir.”

He rests a hand on your shoulder and gives it a comforting rub. “Of course. Your bullies will be expelled by tomorrow morning, and you won’t ever have to deal with them again.”

Tears well up in your eyes. He truly means it. You won’t have to worry about getting to class, or about not studying, or anything like that again.

You throw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Oh, thank you, sir!”

He pats your back, lightly returning your hug. “You’re welcome. Now, go get some rest. I don’t want to see you out and about till morning.”

“Yes, sir!” You head off to your dorm, practically giddy with excitement.

You’re finally free from your bullies. You’ll be able to make friends again now. You can get good grades again. Live without fear for your wellbeing.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so happy in your life. And it’s all thanks to Professor Riddle.

#tom riddle #professor tom riddle #platonic reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #divider by cafekitsune #reader is from an unspecified hogwarts house #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #professor tom riddle x reader #professor tom riddle x you #tw bullying #tw violence

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simpliciaty-cc · 2 years

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AVA OVERSIZED HOODIE

💥 An oversized hoodie with 70 graphic designs! Comes in two variations: a dress version where you can wear it as a full outfit & a top version where you can wear it with some pants (won't work with all unfortunately!) 💥

Includes designs from : Rico Nasty, One Direction, Ariana Grande, Billie Eilish, Nirvana, AC/DC, Stranger Things, Taylor Swift, Lana del Rey, Cartoon Network, Jazmin Bean, Hannah Montana, Nickelodeon, Avengers, DC, Melody & Kuromi, Super Mario, Arctic Monkeys, Doctor Who, Powerpuff Girls, Marvel, Attack on Titan, Blackpink, BTS, Inuyasha, Jhené Aiko, Maddycats / OhTaraTara (RIP ♥), Melanie Martinez, Naruto, Nintendo, Harry Styles (Pleasing), Rick & Morty, Spirited Away, Hogwarts Houses (Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff & Gryffindor), Anti Social Social Club, Winx Club, GOT7, Demon Slayer, Death Note, Guns N' Roses, 5SOS, Queen, Lil Nas X, US Universities (Stanford, Harvard & Yale), Pokémon, Zelda, Sailor Moon, Animal Crossing, NANA, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Wonder Woman, Pink Floyd, Doja Cat, Clare Siobhan, Olivia Rodrigo & Fleetwood Mac.

100 swatches and/or unlimited colors with "The Spectrum Collection" (Click for more info);

Top & Full Body Category;

HQ mod compatible;

Custom Shadow Map;

All LOD’s;

[ DOWNLOAD ON MY BLOG ]

New CC two times a week on my Patreon page!

If you use please tag #simpliciaty in your pictures!

Thank you! ♥

#s4 #ts4 #ts4cc #s4cc #sims #sims4 #sims 4 #simpliciaty #ava #oversized #hoodie

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ash-whimsicalfanfic · 1 year

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The Scarlet Witch (CH 1)

Mattheo Riddle X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 958

Warnings: Mild language, violence, graphic content, blood, angst, fluff, smut…

Prompt: Y/n Maximoff, a witch who can perform wandless magic transfers to Hogwarts. She makes friends and foes, all the while love seems to be in the air even though she wasn’t expecting it. There is highs and lows in this love story, with unexpected twists and turns and maybe even heartbreak.

Faceclaim: Wanda Maximoff/Elizabeth Olsen/Scarlet Witch

3rd POV

The Great Hall was loud with chatter as the students laughed and ate food, some hurrying to hide food in their pockets. The teachers are amongst themselves, chatting quietly while keeping a watchful eye over the students.

The chatter slowly died out as students noticed the Sorting Hat was out. Professor Dumbledore stands, the room completely silencing.

"We have a student transferring here and I expect you all to help her settle in. Y/N Maximoff, please come on in." He announces.

The doors open and the students watch the girl with red hair and blue-green eyes, walk towards Professor Dumbledore. She silently takes a seat as Professor McGonagall grabs the Sorting Hat.

"Oh my! What a cunning one you are with witty remarks and a glass heart! Your ambition is unlike the others I've sorted. Mmm...so driven and so focused. Not to mention independent. What a ruthless girl you are to the ones who pose as an enemy! I wouldn't want to get on your bad side! Haha! So charming and bold, one with beauty and power! You are brave and strong for the battles you've witnessed, young girl...ooo! And you can perform wandless magic!" The Sorting Hat says

The students among the Great Hall collectively gasp, but Y/N's face remained passive as she stared ahead blankly, impatiently waiting for the hat to sort her into her house.

"Well?" Professor McGonagall questions.

"Slytherin!" The Sorting Hat shouts.

Y/N stands as the Slytherin table cheers and claps. She begins her way over to the table, sitting at one of the empty ones at the end. She stared at the table, her stomach far from hungry.

She could hear the whispers about her and feel the eyes on her. It was a myth of those who could perform wandless magic. Or so everyone thought, but here stood Y/N.

She eagerly awaited to be dismissed, and she nervously played with her fingers. She tried her hardest to tune out all the whispers and she tried to ignore the stares. It was all so overwhelming though.

She looks up when a girl plops down across from her. She had long brown hair and pretty green eyes.

"I'm Pansy. Pansy Parkinson." She says, holding her hand out.

Y/N’s POV

I take it, shaking it as a group of boys sit around us. She gives me a kind smile.

"Y/N Maximoff." I say quietly.

"I'm Draco Malfoy." He says, throwing an arm over Pansy's shoulder.

They were a cute couple. That's for sure.

"I'm Blaise Zabini." He says.

"I'm Lorenzo Berkshire, love." He says, taking my hand and leaving a kiss on it.

When he looked away, I grimaced and wiped away the spot at my hand. He isn't as cute as he thinks he is. I look over and see the last one who seemed rather quiet. He was analyzing me. He had curly-ish brown hair and deep brown eyes.

Draco nudges him and he slowly looks over at Draco. I tense when something hits the back of my head. I turn around and it was Harry Potter. He laughs and I clench my jaw, letting my eyes go red. He quiets, looking fearful and I use my magic to lift the scone and throw it at his face hard. His glasses break and I roll my eyes, turning around.

I blink and let my eyes go back to the normal blue-green shade they always are. I ignore the impressed looks from my table.

"Honestly, he deserved that and more." Draco says, shrugging carelessly and I smile slightly.

"The dork beside Draco is Mattheo Riddle. He's a little quiet at first with new people. Just give him time." Pansy says.

"Alright." I say.

"Aren't you going to eat, love?" Lorenzo asks, brushing my hair over my shoulder.

I smack his hand away from me as the other guys laugh at his shocked face.

"No and stop calling me love. Your not as cute as you think you are." I snap and his jaw drops.

"That's the first." Mattheo mumbles.

"The first what? The first time a girl has slapped him or the first time a girl has turned down his advances and mediocre face?" I ask, quirking a brow at Mattheo.

Mattheo's lips slowly turn up into a grin as he studies me and Lorenzo pouts next to me.

"Both." Mattheo says before turning to his food.

"Way to bruise my ego." Lorenzo mutters.

"We can be friends, that's it. But don't expect anything more or you'll regret it. You aren't my type." I say.

"What's your type?" He asks.

"Not you." I say and he sighs as the guys laugh.

"Seriously, I get it. But, what's your type? I can set you up." He says.

Thankfully it was time to head to our dorms, so I stood and followed Pansy and the rest of the Slytherins towards the Slytherin dormitory's.

"Come on Y/N." Lorenzo whines.

"Your annoying me." I say.

"And?" He asks.

"It's something you don't want to do." I say.

He grins and I glare at him. I should have hit him. Pansy pulls me off in the direction that all the girls were heading.

“This will be our dormitory.” She says as she opens a door.

It was a big dormitory with two Queen sized beds on either side with matching green bedding. There was two wardrobes, a bathroom and several empty bookcases.

“This is my bed. Although, I will admit I’m not in here often. I’m typically at my boyfriends dorm.” She explains and I nod, taking the bed close to the window.

Oh what a year this will be.

#mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #marvel #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #harry potter #fluff #angst #smut #mild language #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff

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chasingmidnights · 7 months

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Hufflepuff Moodboard

Hufflepuff with a dash of fall and magic.

If you decide to use please reblog, like, and tag! I would love to see who uses my work!

#hufflepuff moodboard #hufflepuff #hufflepuff fall aesthetic #fall aesthetic #hufflepuff aesthetic #fall moodboard #hogwarts house aesthetics #hogwarts houses #hogwarts house moodboard #hogwarts #the wizarding world of harry potter #chasingmarvel moodboards #chasingmarvel moodboards & graphics #chasingmarvel #courtney creates #pictures are from pinterest

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hollowdeath · 4 months

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slytherin fashion

this is the final part of my hogwarts houses fashion posts! you can find the other houses on my masterlist

business casual

i feel like slytherins will take any chance they can to dress up, so their typical go-to look is business casual. think white collared button ups, vests, black suit jackets, and a necktie, of course. but slytherins are all about adding a little edge, so they try to tone down the professional elements with skirts, jeans, leather jackets, and a pair of headphones.

dark academia/alt

i mean, c'mon. who's doing the all black look better than slytherins? this is where a lot of our dark academia/alternative friends thrive. some like to keep it business casual still with simple silhouettes: long skirts, long jackets, turtlenecks/vests, and leather boots. others, however, go for a more casual look with shorter skirts, ripped stockings, graphic t-shirts, and tons of accessories like belts, rings, necklaces, and chains. all in black, of course.

shoes

slytherins are the house when it comes to their shoe game, and there's do debate. they take a lot of pride in their collections and keeping their favorites in good condition. it's like a bonding experience for them, talking about and showing off their shoes to each other. and, of course, they love to experiment with all kinds of styles: flats/ballet slippers, kitten heels, loafers, boots, and, above all, sneakers. even if their outfit isn't their favorite, they can always bet they have the best shoes in the room.

chaotic style

i've tried to find a name for this specific style but all i could find is bloquette (??) and uglycore (???) so i'm just gonna call it chaotic, because that's exactly how a slytherin would describe it. while some slytherins dress professionally, others prefer a more eccentric similar to their fellow ravenclaws. i'm thinking long patterned skirts, particularly plaid, along with boots or tennis shoes and tall socks, as well as random colorful jerseys.

ravenclaw | hufflepuff | gryffindor | masterlist

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aesthetics-for-harry-potter · 9 months

Text

Moodboard of Andromeda, Bellatrix and Narcissa as Hogwarts students.

Requested by: anon.

#harry potter #harry potter aesthetic #harry potter moodboard #harry potter series #harry potter fandom #harry potter graphic #harry potter edit #harry potter characters #andromeda black #narcissa black #bellatrix black #noble and most ancient house of black #hogwarts #for anon #mod cassandra

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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 4 months

Text

Always There - Chapter Eighteen - S.Snape

Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.

Series Masterlist

My full Masterlist

Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus, Sister!Reader x James Potter, Potter!Reader x Friend!Sirius

Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, mentions of Voldemort, Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius' Death, Umbridge, Death, not proofread,

Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,

Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!

I am starting a taglist so leave either a comment or something in my asks if you would like to be tagged in any of my works or just this series!

Author's Note: It's been awhile but I'm back! I'm finally getting out of my writing slump! I was half asleep writing this but enjoy! Let me know if there are ANY errors!

Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!

Word Count: 1183

dividers are @firefly-graphics

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

It was a few days later meaning that it was Christmas. Arthur had been released from Saint Mungo’s and everyone was packing in at the Black house. There was almost no space around the house for everyone, the kids hiding out in Harry’s room, the twins spending most of their time in the kitchen with Severus talking about new recipes, Y/N spending her time in the living room with Remus and Sirius and the rest of the Weasley clan was doting on Arthur since his return.

Christmas came and went, as did the New Year, time felt like it was flying. Everyone was back at Hogwarts, getting ready for the start of the new term. Y/N getting her lectures and plants ready for her upcoming lessons and Severus getting his lectures and ingredients ready for his upcoming lessons. On top of his lessons he was also doing private occlumency lessons with Harry, trying to get him to close his mind to Voldemort. However, instead, Harry got a look inside of Severus’ memories. Memories that he tended to hide from himself and future wife, memories of his tormentors from Hogwarts.

“Get out,” Severus said lowly after Harry had entered his mind.

“I never knew my dad was that horrible to you Uncle Sev,” Harry admitted.

“Just please get out,” The man practically begged, “I just need a minute, okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

So Harry did as his uncle requested, he left the room and gave him the space he needed. The boy waited outside the door until Severus opened it and motioned the boy to come back in. They tried again and again but every time Severus was able to get into Harry’s mind. His memories still filled with his aunt and his friends. Happy memories had overtaken the not so happy ones. Harry had managed to get into Severus’s head once more, this time it was a flash of his Aunt’s smiling face, him as a baby in his aunt’s arms, his aunt hysterically sobbing with a crying Harry in her arms, his aunt as a teenager with a bright smile on her face.

He wasn’t surprised to see his aunt in Severus’ memory, she was about to get married to the man but he wasn’t expecting to see the memory of his aunt sobbing with him as a baby on his uncle’s doorstep. “Uncle Sev, that memory of Aunt Y/N crying with me as a baby, how old was I?” He asked innocently.

“You were 1, she had a rough day, it was your father’s birthday, the first birthday after his death,” Severus told him, “She came to my house because you wouldn’t stop crying and she couldn’t stop crying. She needed a break for a little while just to breathe so I took you for a bit to give her room.”

“Thank you for taking care of us.”

“Of course, my boy. Off to bed, we’ll continue tomorrow.”

The term passed with little to no issue other than decree after decree, that was until Umbridge caught wind of the DA in the room of requirement. Her and her little gang of snitches found their way to the room, blowing their way through with magic. Every single student in the DA had received an Umbridge special detention. The professors first heard about Albus escaping with Fawkes and then about the mass detention given to the students.

Her heart raced as she tried to find her nephew after the detention let out, but she couldn’t find him. “Shit!” She cursed aloud before remembering the map. She ran to her office where she kept the map stored after Harry used it to spy on her and Severus. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good!” She rushed out to the map. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. That feeling was correct because of her nephew’s name with Hermione, Ron, Umbridge and her inquisitorial squad in the dreaded toad’s office. “Mischief managed.” She shoved the map back into the desk drawer before running to Umbridge’s office.

She arrived right after Severus did, huffing and puffing as she saw Harry being held still by one of the other students, her mind racing and not registering who it was. “He’s got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!” Harry yelled out.

Her heart dropped once more, keeping her emotions in tact but keeping a sharp eye on her nephew. “Harry, you know you are not supposed to come in here! How dare you break into a professor’s office,” She lightly scolded the boy, he knew just by her tone that she was not upset. “Professor, go easy on them please. Harry just had a bad dream is all, they were just trying to make him feel better, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” Ron and Hermione said in unison.

“If you say so, professor. I will take care of these three.”

Y/N grabbed Severus’ hand, the couple walked out calmly before breaking out into a sprint to get to a piece of parchment, a quill and an owl. “I will head over there, send a message to the order! Be safe, I love you!” She rushed out, planting a firm but sloppy kiss to his lips before running off. Severus quickly wrote off a letter, notifying the order and the ministry of what was happening at the ministry.

Y/N had found a working floo network, flooing into 12 Grimmauld place. To her surprise, she found Sirius and Remus making out on the couch. She awkwardly cleared her throat alerting the couple to her presence.

“Holy shit!” Sirius shouted in surprise as he threw Remus off of him and onto the floor.

“That hurt! Merlin Sirius! It’s just Y/-Wait what are you doing here? Why do you have that look on your face like something’s wrong?” Remus noticed the expression she was wearing.

“Because I think Voldemort realized the connection and used it against Harry. We need to get to the ministry before the kids get hurt! Sev already sent a letter to the rest of the order, let’s just go please!” She rushed out. The two men scrambled to get up, following her out of the house so they can apparate together. By the time they got there, Harry was surrounded by death eaters, his friends being held by even more death eaters.

“Get away from my nephew you greasy haired fuck!” She shouted at Lucius, blasting a basic cast at him.

She was then targeted by Bellatrix Lestrange, spells getting thrown at her left and right. “Expelliarmus!” She shouted, pointing her wand at the frizzy haired woman. Bellatrix protected herself from the spell before throwing one of her own.

“Crucio!” A green burst of light flew at her, getting reflected by the protego spell. The woman death eater disappeared before apparating onto a rock, throwing the killing curse at Sirius, hitting the man straight in the heart.

“No!” She screamed, watching as her best friend fell backwards into Veil. She had watched another brother die all over again.

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#harry potter #severus snape x reader #moony #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #james potter #pro snape #professor snape #prongs #best friend sirius #padfoot #severus snape imagine #pro severus #severus snape #severus x reader #pro severus snape #snape fanfiction #snape fandom #snape #snape x reader

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dreamcubed · 1 year

Text

end game | fred weasley x reader

song; end game [taylor swift, ed sheeran, future] pairing; fred weasley x prankster!gender neutral!reader genre; established relationship, angst with a happy ending, fluff word count; 1,8k timeline; battle of hogwarts (feat. a lot of flashbacks) warnings; graphic violence, swearing, severe injuries (not descriptive), near death experience summary; all the times you and fred joked around in ways that reflected your prankster reputations, and the one time you had to be serious

masterlist

"you and me, we got big reputations."

———————————————

"Where's Fred?" you yelled, the sounds of crumbling walls surrounding you.

"I don't know!" George screamed back, sending a shot of red light towards a death eater, "I haven't seen him!"

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled, running off through a barely intact archway with your wand in hand and ready.

You had to find him.

***

"Alright, why is my hair purple?" Fred asked, looking between you and George incredulously.

You shrugged, "I don't know how that could possibly have happened."

George struggled to hold in his laughter as Fred stared you down - although, he wasn't very threatening as he was struggling to suppress a smile (much like his brother).

"Love, what did you do?"

"Nothing," you said, your face stretched into a grin, "I'm completely innocent."

"Why don't I believe you, hm?" he said, stepping closer to you and leaning down so your faces were centimetres apart.

You shrugged, "I genuinely don't know. Why would I do such a thing to you?"

"Good question. You're supposed to love me."

"I do love you. I'd never ruin your ginger hair for two weeks."

His face fell, "Two weeks? I'm stuck like this for two weeks?!"

George stopped trying to hold in his laughter and quickly collapsed to the floor in fits, you following suit.

"Godric, I hate you both."

"No, you don't," you forced out breathlessly between laughs.

***

You ran past Molly and Ginny Weasley, but didn't have a chance to ask if they knew where Fred was. They were so busy in battle it would have been dangerous to distract them.

You would just have to seek him out alone.

Where was he?

***

"Looks like we have the house to ourselves, my love," Fred said, stepping into the living room from the kitchen.

You were at the Burrow for Christmas, like you were most years. Molly was always more than happy to invite you to stay at hers instead of your family's or Hogwarts. You couldn't say no to spending your second favourite time of the year with Fred (April Fool's being the ultimate favourite, of course).

"Don't tell me you have dirty thoughts in that head of yours, Weasley."

"For once, no," he said, and his genuine honesty surprised you.

"What are you thinking about, then?"

He moved towards you with a mischievous grin on his face, and just as his hands were near your exposed mid-riff, he whispered, "This."

Quicker than you could react, he picked you up and threw you on the sofa, beginning to tickle you relentlessly causing you to start scream-laughing. It was a good thing no one was there to hear, as the sound was probably concerning.

"Fred!" you gasped out, "Please! Have mercy!"

He paused for a second, "Hm, should I-?"

You cut him off by lurching yourself forward to tickle him as payback: you were never one to miss the opportunity of his hesitance.

"Okay! Okay! I'm sorry!" he begged when you continued to tickle him, even though you both knew full well he could have probably overpowered you and stopped you had he wanted to.

You stopped with your actions and collapsed on top of him, still letting out small giggles as you did so.

"Moments like this are my favourite," he said, combing his hand through your hair.

"Shut up, you cheesy cunt."

***

"Fred, you cunt, where are you?" you mumbled, rounding another corner as you felt your lungs begin to burn.

A death eater sent a likely fatal spell your way, and you wordlessly cast a shield before stupefying them. Merlin, they really were trying to make your task harder than it already was.

***

"Stop laughing!"

You clutched your belly, collapsing on to the ground: not even five minutes ago you had been sat securely on the sofa.

"You're not being very supportive right now," he mumbled, which only made you laugh harder.

"I'm- I'm sorry-" you genuinely couldn't stop yourself from cackling - every single time you laid your eyes on the secondhand robes that Molly had provided for the Yule Ball, a new fit of laughter overcame you.

Fred stopped pouting and stretched his lips into a grin. You had known all too well that he had never actually felt embarrassed about the robes: the Weasley twins didn't know the emotion of embarrassment.

"Bet you can't wait to show up to the ball with this fashionable and sexy snack by your side," he struck a pose.

"Oh, I'm melting in anticipation," you said monotonously, only to continue your giggles again afterwards.

"Melting? Where'd you get melting from?"

You shrugged as he approached you, leaning down with his face inches from yours. He stared into your eyes for a few moments.

"I love you, you know that?"

You nodded sheepishly, "I love you too."

"Rare I get that out of you," he flicked your forehead, "Now, come on, we have to make your Yule Ball attire as hideous as mine."

***

Finally, you caught sight of Fred across all the rubble: he was stood alongside Percy, the both of them working together like they never had before. Despite their differences, you had always known they did in fact have that brotherly love for each other.

"Fred!" you yelled out, strategically beginning to make your way over to them.

He hadn't heard you because the various duels around you were making too much noise. He hadn't spotted you either.

***

"Y/N! Please help me!" you heard the whines of Ron from across the Three Broomsticks. You looked in his direction to see that Fred was holding his wand out of reach as a means of brotherly torture.

You left your friend group to wander over to where they were, grinning at George in the process who was laughing.

"What's this about then?" you asked both Fred and Ron, your arms crossed.

"Nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart," your boyfriend beamed, holding up the wand even higher.

"Yes, it is! Stop him!" Ron groaned, "He'll listen to you!"

Fred scoffed, "Who said?"

"Me! I said," the younger brother replied, "You dote on Y/N's every single word."

"Not true."

A smirk had crept on to your face, because you knew that it was very much true. The look on George's face said that even he was sceptical of his twin brother's denying.

Feeling sympathetic towards the situation that the youngest Weasley brother was in, you gave a small chuckle and said, "Give him a rest, babe. He goes through enough as it is."

Fred gave you a half-hearted glare and reluctantly gave Ron his wand back, making the boy turn to you and thank you religiously before rejoining Harry and Hermione at their table in the corner.

"You're ruining my reputation," Fred grumbled, pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Mm, like you care."

The grin that his lips stretched into told you that your words rang true, and that you were more important to him than how he was perceived.

"I'm so sick of you two," George groaned.

***

Something didn't feel right.

Why did you feel such all-consuming dread?

***

It was the Weasley twins' grand escape from Hogwarts under the tyrannical reign of Dolores Umbridge, and while you were just as excited as they were, you were also sad because you wanted to finish your NEWTs before joining them at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes - meaning you would miss them both, especially Fred.

You were gathered with everyone gazing out of the large hole in the wall that they had created and you had helped plan for, watching them dart around on their brooms among fireworks.

Just as you thought they were going to leave, Fred swooped down close to where you were and grinned, "I'll miss you, love," he shouted, "You'll marry me, right?"

Shock coursed through your system as he dropped a small velvet box in your hand, the students all around you gasping at the impromptu proposal. You opened it to reveal a gorgeous ring that had to have cost more than anything the Weasleys' had ever owned.

"I'm gonna need an answer quick!" he yelled, "I have to get out of here!"

"Of course I'll marry you, you stupid fuck!"

He grinned at you and with one last shout of "I love you!" zoomed off into the horizon with George.

You stared after them longingly, clutching the box tightly to your chest.

***

A sinking feeling grew in your stomach as you got nearer to Fred and Percy whilst simultaneously surveying your surroundings. The shadowy figure of a death eater was looming close to them, evidently preparing to cast a spell - not directly at the two, it seemed.

You watched in pure horror as the death eater caused on explosion on a nearby piece of castle wall, right where the love of your life was. Your pace increased tenfold as you yelled out your fiancé's name, preparing yourself for what you knew you had to do.

The wall started crumbling and Fred, who was still oblivious due to not having heard you, was directly underneath where it would fall. You lurched yourself forward, throwing your body on to him and knocking you both over into rubble, barely missing the falling debris. The landing had hurt you, but it would have hurt Fred even more as he was the one underneath.

You scrambled up to check his face and make sure he was conscious and breathing.

He was: he was staring at you in shock.

"You- you saved me."

"Well, I wasn't gonna let you die!" you said, finding tears running down your face.

He hugged you tightly, wincing in the process as he was now undoubtedly injured, "Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you so fucking much."

You sobbed, pressing a kiss to his lips for the briefest of moments before getting up: you couldn't leave Percy to cover for the two of you any longer.

Fred was alive, thank Merlin, and he remained that way throughout the rest of the Battle of Hogwarts.

"We're having our wedding as soon as possible," he murmured as you were helping treat the badly injured in the aftermath, "I can't waste anymore time."

"Fred-"

"I can't believe I nearly left you alone," he was crying, you could see that, "You and Georgie."

"Please, Fred, let's not think about that," you said, grabbing his arm, "There's no use making ourselves upset about what could've happened when it didn't happen."

He sniffed, "You're right," he then gave a small chuckle, "You always are."

You gave a tiny smile.

"It's one of the reasons why I love you so much."

————————————————

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written; 13/11/2022 —> 11/12/2022 published; 11/12/2022 edited; —/—/——

taglist ; @workinatdapyramid @iluvweasleys

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x y/n #george weasley #weasley twins #angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter oneshot #hp #hp fic #hp oneshot #battle of hogwarts

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firsttimewriter92 · 10 months

Note

Hello! I'd love to request a fic with the reader being Sirius's wife after they're at Hogwarts but before Lily and James' deaths, shortly after they get the news about the Longbottoms being tortured. The reader wants to have sex but Sirius initially hesitates because his wife clearly is trying to distract them from the news (doesn't have to be graphic smut!) Thanks!

Hi there, anon :) Thank you for the ask. I´ve been in a writing slump lately because I get into my own way, making everything to complicated, too detailed. But this seemed like something I could do and it was lots of fun! :D It brought me back to my lovely Sirius. Maybe now I can finally finish my series "Everything Black".

It doesn´t get too steamy but there are some dirty passages, I hope you like it. Otherwise it´s pure fluff and angst. Thanks again and I kope you all enjoy <3

Title:

It hurts to look at you

words: 2.303

The moment the door closed behind Dumbledor´s swaying robes and a deafening silence covered the small kitchen in Godrics Hollow, two women and four men dissolved into either horrified sobs or heavy breathing, trying to control their own shock to the news.

Lilies flaming red hair covered one side of her face that was pressed into James´ neck. Little whispers of “No, no. Why them?” left her lips. James eyes were dull and unseeing as he stared at the bottle of elderflower wine on the table. One arm wrapped around his wife, his other hand covering the back of her head.

On the other side of the room, Peter sat on the table, covering his quivering lips with one hand. He was paler than usual and his knee had not stopped bobbing since Dumbledore brought the news of Franks´ and Alice´s horrific fate. He looked like the man standing behind him felt. Remus knew how to hide his emotions but this time he couldn’t quite manage. With wet eyes he held the look of one of his best friends across from him.

Holding you in his lap Sirius looked at Remus over your shoulder while you sobbed. His grey eyes reflected less sorrow than shock and all-consuming hatred. Of course he mourned the fate of his friends, the single tear that ran down his cheek proof enough. But it wasn´t enough to drown out the red hot edges that covered his vision. It wasn’t enough to stop whishing for another name, other relatives. He felt guilty. Guilty for sharing the blood with the person responsible for yet another tragedy. Yet another destroyed family, yet another two lives lost and so many more scarred.

He wrapped his arms closer around your waist and kissed your neck lovingly, trying to calm you down. You where whimpering right next to his ear, fear shaking your entire body while you clung to him like a life line. Again hate flared inside of him. How dare they!? How dare they inflict so much pain and strike terror into the one living being that made it all worth it for him?! He fought for many a reason these days. Most of them were present right now but you were his damn wife. His reason to breath and keep moving. The two of you had gotten married right after Lilly and James although you hadn’t been together for as long as they had.

Time and circumstance however made people fall in love quicker, more madly and desperately. That´s how it was for Sirius and you. You´d only gotten to know him in you last year at Hogwarts. For so long you had tried to avoid the boisterous teenager until he began noticing you. First, every time your house played Gryffindor and you hit a blutcher in his direction. He´d avoid them mostly, grinning at you wolfishly. Then he started noticing you in the hallway which you found incredibly annoying. He just couldn’t walk past you without some kind of comment. “Don´t swing at me, (y/l/n) we´re not on the pitch” “Hey,___ do you like sweets? There are some in our common room”.

One day he walked up to you, arms stretched out to the side as he proclaimed right smack in the middle of the courtyard “(Y/l/n), you are like the stars in the night sky, guiding me towards a brighter future!” You knew of course that he was fucking with you so you just turned to him and with an obvious fake smile, sweet as honey you said, “Sirius, my love. You are like the sun to me.” He looked shocked for a second, his grey eyes widening. “Hurts to look at ya.”

Sirius couldn’t remember the last time he´d laughed so hard. It was the moment he knew you were something special to him. He didn’t quite know that he´d fall arse over broomstick for you yet though. That happened later, in the order, under darker circumstances. Still, the gentle fondness he felt for you changed into a burning passion whenever he saw the bravery you showed despite your anxious demeanour. More than once he´d consoled your shaking form with a glass of fire whiskey the moment you got the message that everyone was safe at the end of the day. Seeing you battle through that and still be hilariously dry-humoured, incredibly kind and quite frankly a rock to him, his protective instincts kicked him the last bit of the way until he almost couldn’t stand not being in your presence.

And then one evening, he´d just come back from a mission that took way longer than it should have. He´d entered the Potters living room, heart beating out of his chest, worried about you. Within a second your body had slammed into his and without thinking twice about it he´d lifted your head with both palms and kissed you feverishly. And that was it. Eight months later you´d gotten married.

____________________________________

You lifted your head off of his shoulder and worriedly he looked up at you, both his hands stroking back your hair. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy as you whispered with a raw voice. “Why?” Sirius had no answer and he hated himself for it. He shook his head slowly and stroked your cheeks. “I don’t know, my darling. I don’t know.” “They…They´re gone. Frank….Alice. Both…Oh Merlin, why like this!!??” Your forehead landed on his as fresh tears fell from your eyes and onto his skin. Sirius breathed heavily, stroking your sides slowly and soothingly.

“What…what happens to Neville now?” you heard Lilly ask. “He´s only a day older than Harry!” Again she started crying while James answered her. “I´m sure Frank´s mother has him now. He´s in good hands, Lils. Please don´t worry.”

“There´s going to be a hunt” Remus´ voice floated through the room. Everyone looked at him while trying to gather themselves again. “You´re right” Lilly said and wiped at her wet cheeks. The stoic look coming back into her eyes. “You´re right. There´s nothing…” she swallowed. “There´s nothing we can do for Frank or Alice anymore. What we can do, is go after… them.”

You admired Lilly for her rationality. She was right of course. You needed to snap out of it. There was work to be done. “But not tonight” Lilly said. “We need tonight for…” she lost her words and looked at her husband. Everyone got the hint and stood. Hugging your friends closer that usual you left the Potter´s house and stood outside for another moment. Sirius turned to Remus.

“You wanna crash on our couch again, mate? You´re welcome to” Sirius looked sternly at Remus, though he already knew what the answer would be. Remus gave a tight lipped smile, took a deep breath and shook his head. “Sorry, Pads. Not tonight. I´ll go see….my parents. I think.” Sirius nodded shortly and hugged his friend again. He whispered something you couldn’t make out to him and let go. Remus´ smile seemed more genuine this time around as he waved at you and disapparated.

“He´s not going to see his parents, is he?” you asked quietly and took Sirius´ hand. He was still staring at the spot were Remus disappeared. He sighed and shook his head. “He writes them occasionally but…it´s been ages since he saw them.” He squeezed your hand tightly. “He´s already on the hunt.”

Sirius looked down at you with a solemn look. “Let´s go home, yeah?” You nodded and braced yourself for disapparating.

Your feet hit the ground in front of your small flat. Without many words, Sirius and you got changed and ready for bed. You felt emotionally drained and yet, something inside you was boiling over. So after not being able to fall asleep, even with Sirius´ strong arms wrapped around you from behind you slightly stirred. “Sirius?” you whispered into the dark. “Hmm? What is it, my love?” he immediately answered. A small smile tucked at your lips. Huddling closer to him you kissed his forearm that was resting close to your face. “I love you more than words can say” you simply stated. You felt his chest stop moving for a second before you felt his lips on your shoulder. They moved slowly and gently over it and over your neck to your ear. Goosebumps erupted all over your body, heat creeping from your center up to your belly.

“You are my everything” Sirius´ deep voice penetrated your ear, vibrating through your every vein. “Love is not a strong enough word to describe what I feel for you, what you are to me, my darling.” Again you felt your eyes water. “I know, dove. You´re scared. I know” he whispered with a slight choked up voice. “We´re doing the right thing and it´s scary. Whatever happens, my love, please know that I´ll always be with you.”

“Please don’t talk like that” you whimpered and the tears fell silently. “It needs to be said,___. I´m sorry but please listen to me.” He kissed the shell of your ear. “Tomorrow is not promised. But as long as I have your love, I´ll fight until my last breath to return to you. Every day.”

You turned in his arms as quickly as you could and smashed your lips to his desperately. His arms pulled you in immediately. The kiss was not gentle or slow. Pure desperation guiding you in the way you grabbed at his ink black, luscious hair or how your tongue glided over his quicker than usual.

Sirius didn’t mind at all. He knew that you needed this right now and he would be damned not to give you anything you so desperately needed. He did worry a little bit though. His fingers dug into your side to try and slow you down just a little bit. That proved to be rather difficult though as you just decided to slightly bite his bottom lip. He always went feral whenever you did that and right now his head was swimming with desire. He felt your leg moving right between his and with a grunt he felt your knee slightly bump his erection.

“Want you, Sirius” you panted against his lips. “Want you so much.” Your lips descended onto his throat as you climbed on top of him. And so, with a long and strained groan Sirius grabbed your hips in a vice like grip. “Hold on. Stop, darling” he whispered desperately. You didn’t react and started to grind onto him. “Shit! Dove, please. It´s not…stop. Stop, stop, stop.” He didn’t sound angry but worried as his voice got louder until you finally registered what he´d asked of you.

Pure fire was rushing through your veins and through a thick cloud of pent up lust you tried to focus on his face. His beautiful features shone through the haze as you zeroed in on his pale grey eyes. Your chest heaving you looked at him bewildered.

“What is it?” you asked cautiously. “Little dove, you know I´d never say no to being inside you and absolutely rock your shit but…We both know…we´re not in the right headspace right now. We just lost two dear friends and we´re scared.” Your stomach dropped dangerously low and a little bit of shame overcame you quickly. Still laying on his chest you lay your head right above his heart while he stroked your back soothingly. “Just let me hold you for tonight, my love. Let me tell you how precious you are, how much you mean to me. Let my words lull you to sleep, where I want you to be at peace. Knowing that I´ll have your back always. That I´ll be here. And in the morning when you wake up, I´ll make sure my name is the only thing you´ll be able to mutter.” Nodding, sniffling but grinning into his Tshirt you got comfortable at his side again, your ear never leaving the steady rhythm of his heart.

As promised, he whispered sweet, sweet nothings into your ear until your body grew heavy.

You didn’t even make it until the first rays of sunshine before Sirius appeared above you with pure fire in his eyes. No words needed to be spoken, you knew that look way too intensely. And so he made good on his promise as he sank into your warm and wet heat and made you whimper and sigh his name as he nibbled on your neck. His hips moving sensually and powerfully. The feeling of slick skin on skin, his scent enveloping you and words of pure love being exchanged, the both of you moved in tandem, bringing you closer and closer to the sweet relief you needed.

“Cum for me, darling. Please, my perfect girl. Hggnn, I´m right there...with you” he whispered as his eyes bore into yours. As his hips sped up and his lips closed carefully around your nipple, you gripped him hard as the blinding, hot white feeling made you arch your back and cling to him for dear life. His name yelled into the darkness, he bit down on your neck hard and muffled his own grunts and sighs. Before long, Sirius was laying on top of you, breathing as heavily as you, kissing the spot he bit, licking it a little and just marvelling in the feeling of having you in this way.

“I´ll always love you, Sirius. With every fibre of my being, I am yours” you whispered. You heard his satisfied sigh as his canines scraped against the underside of your jaw. He lifted his head to look you in the eyes. Stroking your face gently he said “Wherever I am, whatever happens to me. Know that you are my saving grace. I am yours before anything.” He kissed you slowly. “I´ll be with you always.”

________________________________________________________

I hope you all enjoyed this little fic, thank you for reading <3 As always I appreciate every like, reblog or comment. In order to get better in my writing though, I absolutely love getting comments or reblogs that let me know what you liked or disliked ;) Only this way I can make my writing better or more inclusive.

Thank you very much again and have a lovely day :)

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