#hp drabble

[artytaeh]

. . . this is a silly thought, but indulge me!

( i might write more elaborated headcanons about it, though. let's see, let's see. 🌷 )

thinking about reader having kids with mattheo or theodore. and despite these two being so similar in some things, they'd be the opposite on this:

because there's a vital part of your baby growing up, where they start babbling, threatening to say their first word. the silent expectation to see which of you the baby will call for first— their mama, or their papa.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

THEODORE NOTT is a mama's boy; even at his adult stage, having left hogwarts with you and putting a ring on your finger, it's inevitable that theo's mother always had, always will have such a special place in his heart.

theo looks at you, looks at the baby created from the strong love you feel for each other— and his heart aches, somewhat bittersweetly, as theodore imagines his mother there with his little family; making the scenario even more perfect on his eyes. theo constantly thinks about how much his mother would absolutely adore you, and be the best grandmother possible for your baby.

so, being a mama's boy— and seeing the tenderness you have for your child as a parallel of the unconditional love that theo's mother had for him...

... theodore nott isn't competitive for the first time on his life, because truly, theo wants your child to call out for you first.

not because he's uninterested or doesn't care for your child! no, it's the opposite— theo loves you both so, so much, that his heart feels like bursting from so much love, so much tenderness and happiness. it's just that you deserve it more!

both of you made the child, of course; a human being isn't made alone. yet, as much as theo supported you as much as he could— it was you whose body developed this little human that theo adores so much. you went through all those morning sickness, all of those cravings and body changes; it was you who spent hours in labor to bring that child to the world— it was you who fed them on their first weeks of life.

so, seriously, with all his heart: theo felt like it was only fair for this little human of yours to call for his beloved wife first.

and he even makes sure that such a thing happens!

on a sunny day, you'd find theodore sat on the garden; during these first months of this little human's life, it was a joint decision to spend them in theo's childhood house— where he grew up with his mother, on these beautiful grounds of italy.

sat with his back against a tree, theo uses his knees to support the baby's back, as the little human giggles and trashes both chubby arms and legs, amused by the tenderness of their father; theodore nott. he makes sure that the baby has their beautiful eyes looking at him— pronouncing the syllables with patience.

'ma-ma. mama. maaaaaa... ma.' he'd say, slowly for the baby, exaggerating the movement of his mouth, so that in a way, it would be easier for them to imitate.

it didn't matter how long it took for the baby to properly say those two simply syllables— theo would keep mouthing 'mama' over and over again, carrying the baby on his arms, to then point at you: with a cheeky smile (proud to be the father of this little human, whose also your child. you're their mother. and his wife.), theo gestures to the baby.

'mama. that's your mama; the woman i love the most. ever since i saw your maaaa-ma, i knew that she would be la mia futura sposa.'

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

MATTHEO RIDDLE, on the other hand, doesn't know how to lose; unless his loss brings some sort of benefit to him, obviously.

however this time... no, there wasn't much of a benefit, of a reward to let you win this time. it was a question of honor, of duty! to get this child of yours to call for mattheo first. (as silly as it is, mattheo needs a way to subconsciously assure himself, that he'll be a better father than his. that he'll offer support and unconditional love to this baby— not fear, resentment, and vicious bad habits to deal with the damage.)

and despite this tiny human being days, weeks or few months old— that doesn't really matter to mattheo, because he'd sooner than later teach your child about this corrupted world you live in. that this society, the human beings are nothing but weak meat, meant to fall into temptation, to indulge corruption and...!

long story short: mattheo tries to bribe the tiny human into loving him more.

and mattheo riddle is a creative man, you see; bribe is not just made with money, no, no. bribe comes in various ways:

demanding to be the one to mostly change the baby's diapers, so that mattheo could have more time alone with them, to manipulate that little brain to find it easier to babble the letter 'p' instead of 'm'— and one day, he might oh-so-dramatically say that he was the one to bear with the smell, who had to do the dirty work of changing diapers! because this being said, he deserves more acknowledgement, seriously!

encouraging this tiny human to talk. and when i say encouraging, i mean that mattheo indulges all those gibberish as if they were proper words, ones that mattheo assures to understand, and so mattheo and the tiny human engage a serious conversation. when the baby is quiet (which is rare), mattheo disturbs the peace and quiet, so that he can trick the tiny human into saying that simple, easy word. 'paaaaaa.... paaaa... papa. paaaa! pa!' he sing-songs.

by playing so much with the baby, be it with the amount of toys they have on their nursery, or by tickling, making sounds, already teaching the tiny human how to throw punches (just like his father! 🎀)— mattheo believes that he's associating himself to the feeling of having fun. so if not him, who else would they call for?! (you. because you're the most amazing mother, and mattheo knows that; he tells you that every night, so proud of this beloved family of his.)

another silly thing he does is pronouncing the word 'papa' really slowly, mouthing with such a dramatic and exaggerated movements, that it always makes you laugh when you testify it. however, when mattheo points at you, he says the word 'mama' in a faster way, purposefully making it sound very confusing for the little human on his arms.

and when you caught mattheo doing all of these things, so that he gets to be called by this baby of yours first— well, mattheo is already expecting a lighthearted slap on the nape of his neck, but oh well, the punishment and the effort are worth the prize.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻’

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i'm on a huge slytherin boys brainrot. no, seriously, i have so many drafts about headcanons and drabbles about them; the comments and reposts of theo's drabble melted me into a puddle, i swear. :( tysm!

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

#theodore nott #mattheo riddle #hp fanfic #slytherin boys #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott dating #headcanons #theo nott headcanons #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle headcanons #fluff #dating #slytherin boys react #hp drabble

[mangomonk]

i thought that i was dreaming when you said you loved me

↳ summary: read this drabble first! goodie two shoes!remus, afraid of being perceived as other, stumbles into a relationship at the expense of y/n. ↳ content: angst, one-sided fake dating ↳ a/n: a little nervous because this is my first time writing for remus pls be gentle w me! for full enjoyment, listen to ivy by frank ocean (i looped it the entire time i wrote this). the more i wrote this, the more i realized i could turn this into a full blown million word fic, but i tried to keep it as condensed as possible, hence some time skips/summarization. pt. 2 here!

When Remus Lupin confesses — no, announces — that he likes her in the middle of the Great Hall, she thinks she's dreaming. Surely, she didn't hear that correctly. Only hours earlier, she had witnessed the doe-eyed boy unleash a slew of curses beneath his breath. I guess everyone has bad days, she had thought. Even Remus, who she had always pegged as straight-laced and well-mannered.

So when a half a dozen heads turn to stare at her directly, Y/N turns to see if there's anyone behind her. When she sees no one, she turns back forward. It's when Remus Lupin's soft, brown gaze meets hers that her heart stutters dangerously in her chest. She can't help it despite the bewilderment she feels — everyone in the castle has to have some sort of crush on the fluffy-haired boy. He's all soft, disarming smiles and beautiful, brown eyes and knitted jumpers and gentle laughter and—

—and Y/N goes red in the face right away. It doesn't help when Remus tilts his head to the side slightly and offers a small, uncertain smile. Merlin, help me, Y/N thinks as she stares back, wide-eyed, her confusion and any thoughts briefly neutralized at the way his eyes crinkle into little half-moons.

— — — — —

Y/N has always prided herself on being a sharp judge of character. It soon became clear to her, however, that Remus Lupin was a strange, but intriguing case of contradicting character.

Following his confession — rather, announcement — in the Great Hall, she becomes overly conscious of the tall boy. It feels as though she's suddenly very aware that they have most of their classes together, that he sits only a seat away from her in Charms, that he has chicken scratch for handwriting when she passes him in the library. The latter comes as a surprise — perhaps unfairly, she would have pegged him as a swooping cursive type of boy. In any case, it soon becomes the case that Y/N realizes that she can find Remus easily in a room of crowded students, and the more she does, the more she begins to realize that Remus is a boy full of surprises.

This doesn't seem to matter though, because strangely, after his confession in the Great Hall, Remus does not once approach her. Occasionally, she catches him glancing at her with an odd expression, but outside of an increase in being stared at by the other students, little changes in her life.

It isn't until a week later when her seat partner in Charms is out that their paths cross again. When she trudges to her seat in class, she becomes very quickly aware that they're separated only by an empty chair. She doesn't look away fast enough because Remus looks up as she pulls her chair out, his gaze snagging on to hers with an intensity that she doesn't expect from the softness of his eyes.

"Good morning," he says slowly, almost uncertainly. Up close, Y/N can see a splay of pale freckles across his cheekbones. His lashes are unfairly, distractingly long as he gazes up at her.

"Hi," Y/N says, equally uncertain, though she tries to keep her voice light and casual. No one's ever really had a crush on her before, and she finds herself floundering on how to act. Shouldn't he be the nervous one, and not her? Somehow though, she can feel her palms begin to sweat, though Remus doesn't look nervous at all. Just sharp and assessing. Fortunately though, before the air between them can turn any awkwarder, a mussed-haired head pops up from around Remus.

"Y/N, right?" James Potter asks with a wide grin. His glasses are skewed and crooked on his face as he peers around Remus at her rather owlishly.

Next to him, Remus blinks a few times as she nods, opening her mouth to speak when Professor Flitwick clears his throat to begin class.

She tries to focus on taking notes, but it's difficult when she can see Remus casting her sidelong glances from her peripheral view. She gives up on trying to focus on class entirely when a folded piece of parchment flits over the gap between them with a familiar chicken scratch.

Can we talk after class?

After class, Y/N has a ridiculous, irrational flash of self-consciousness that the humidity has made her hair begin to frizz. Remus doesn't seem to notice as she rakes a hand quickly through her hair because a nervous, almost agitated, energy is rolling off of him as he paces in the courtyard.

When he catches sight of her, he stops, a warm smile breaking across his face, though Y/N feels that it doesn't quite reach his eyes. But the new knowledge that Remus has a dimple on his left cheek and his smile is just slightly crooked is enough to disarm any wariness. Unexpectedly his nervous energy seems to dissipate immediately. "Hi," he says, "You came."

"I got your note," Y/N says, inwardly grimacing — of course he knew that already, he had been sitting next to her.

"Right, well, I, er—" Remus begins choppily, his hand rising to rub at the nape of his neck. "I was wondering about... Earlier, last week, when you saw me... Did you say anything to anyone?"

Y/N blinks at him once, then twice, blankly. "Earlier?" She questions, before the heat begins to rise to her face. He must have been referring to his confession. "I haven't said anything to anyone."

Remus's brows furrow for a moment before his face relaxes. He's surprisingly difficult to read — it feels as though any trickle of emotion is covered with a disarming soft smile. "I see," he says after a moment, his shoulders relaxing. "Right, well, Y/N," he begins, looking around them distractedly. "—shall we date?" Y/N straightens with a jolt as he continues. "I won't be offended if you say no. In fact, I'd understand if you said no, we've barely—"

She doesn't know what it is exactly. Maybe it was the curious thought that Remus might not be the charming prince he seemed to be. Maybe it was the dimple in his left cheek. Maybe it was the way he said her name. But something in Y/N slipped through her confusion and the unceremonious nature of the whole thing, because she finds herself speaking before she can stop herself. "Yeah. Let's date."

Remus's face goes slack. He looks a little startled, Y/N thinks, like she's clubbed him over the head. "Are you sure?" He blurts, eyes widening a fraction. It's perhaps the most emotion she's seen him show so far. Y/N writes it off as nerves and incredulity.

She nods once, firmly.

"I guess that's settled," he says weakly with furrowed brows, though he looked neither pleased nor displeased.

— — — — —

Initially, Y/N and Remus are as awkward as can be. She's not sure if it's because neither of them have really ever been in a relationship before, but it feels clumsy in the beginning.

Their dates start off mostly as study dates in the library, but Y/N doesn't mind — to her pleasure, she finds that they eerily work well together and she likes the calm peace of Remus's presence while she's studying. She likes to think that he also finds comfort in her presence because it's become ritual for him to ask her about the book she's reading, and vice versa. In a few weeks, they start reading the same books. Maybe it's because they spend so much time together studying that it becomes gradually more comfortable.

When they go to Hogsmeade for the first time together, Y/N finds that they end up walking around the village and chatting nearly until curfew. She tells him about what it's like growing up with three brothers — "It doesn't seem very different from the Marauders," Remus observes with a wry laugh — and he tells her stories of how despite moving around periodically during his child, his mother always found a little corner in the yard to start an herb garden.

He does all the things she'd imagine a boyfriend might — Remus is a gentleman, expectedly. He holds the door open for her, gives her his jumper when there was a draft in the library, walks her back to the Common Room at night.

But, unexpectedly, it isn't Remus's soft smiles or considerate aura that Y/N finds herself straining to see. But it was when he threw his head back and laughed himself breathless at James holding his wand on the wrong end that Y/N found it impossible to tear her eyes away from him. Or when he shot her a dour look the first time she teased him on his illegible chicken scratch. Or when Remus cursed like a sailor when he knocked his ink pot over onto his parchment because he was always so uncoordinated and graceless.

It was perhaps impossible not to fall in love with Remus Lupin. Though maybe she already knew this from the start when he first looked at her, and even more so the first time he said her name.

She liked the way he would groan and complain and grumble as he stretched out his lithe limbs in preparation of helping Peter with his essay that he had procrastinated on, even after she could see the exhaustion begin to pool under his pretty eyes. She liked that he could silence the boys with just one baleful look. She liked the way he fell asleep on his books when he thought no one was looking. She liked his dry remarks and his wolfish grin and his grumpy mood. She liked all the rough edges that Remus showed her when he would forget to put up a soft smile.

It was too easy to love Remus Lupin, though it seemed like he didn't know that himself.

It only takes four full moons for Y/N to understand what the Marauders meant whenever they quietly referred to Remus's furry little problem. In the first place, they weren't always discreet — it was easy for them to forget she was there when she was studying in the background. In the second place, Remus would apologetically cancel their studying plans around the same time each month, and he would disappear for a few days and come back exhausted with fresh scars. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together, really.

But while she understood why he didn't tell her, she couldn't help but give him a tighter hug when she realized.

"Something wrong, love?" He had asked, reaching up to caress the back of her hair as she squeezed his abdomen.

"No," she had mumbled into his shirt, breathing in his familiar scent. She could feel affection swell inside her so violently she felt a little dizzy as she gave him another squeeze. "Just wish I could always be hugging you."

"No one's stopping you," Remus had responded dryly. She smiled into his chest as he rested his chin on the crown of her head. "Certainly not me."

— — — — —

When Y/N tries to discreetly deliver a small care package of chocolate and books a few nights before the next full moon, she accidentally overhears Peter ask James when Remus was ending his fake relationship.

"I doubt it'll raise any suspicions now that no one's pestering him about not having a girlfriend," she hears Peter say.

James makes a noncommittal sort of noise. "You know how Remus is about these things. He's always on edge that someone will think he's the odd one out—"

She feels like the ground beneath her has stuttered and shifted into an open chasm as her mind whirls to make sense of their conversation. For a moment, she thinks she's wrong, but like it was with Remus's furry little problem, if she thinks back on the stranger moments of the past four months, it's not difficult to piece it together. She begins to feel a little ill.

How many times did he force himself to smile at her stories? How many times after walking her back to the Common Room at night did he sigh with relief when she left? How many times did he wait for other students to be around to hold her hand? All the heart-fluttering moments she had thought had been magical and wonderful and incredible with Remus had been entirely one-sided. How humiliating. She feels used and dirty and pathetic, but the worse thing is that she can't feel angry.

She doesn't know how long she stands paralyzed outside, just that it's difficult to breathe or think properly. All she can feel is a numbing ache in her chest, and the feeling tightens when she hears a familiar voice behind her.

"Hmm?" Remus hums, a smile breaking across his face. The dimple in his left cheek appears briefly. "What are you doing here, love?" When she doesn't respond, he steps closer to her and peers at her face carefully, his big, brown eyes soft. "What's wrong?" He asks, gently looping his arms around her waist. Y/N goes perfectly still under his touch. "I knew you'd be studying for the Ancient Runes exam all day, so got some cakes from the kitchen for—"

"Remus," she interrupts suddenly, her throat gone cottony and dry as she raises her gaze to finally look at him. It sends a sharp pang through her chest again. "Are we ever going to kiss?"

Bizarrely, scarlet splotches appear swiftly on the high points of Remus's cheek as his eyes widen a fraction. "Kiss," he repeats, sounding strangled as he stares at her wide-eyed, looking as though she had clubbed him over the head. "You want to kiss?" He asks after a moment, his voice hoarse as his eyes flicker down to her lips.

"Do you want to kiss me?" She asks quietly, watching his throat bob as he swallows thickly.

"I've wanted to since—" Remus says softly, a little nonsensically, his eyes darting back down to her lips. His pupils are blown wide and dark as he swallows, his throat bobbing. “Y/N,” he murmurs, and she can feel his breath brush against her nose. She tries to control the thumping in her chest as he slowly leans in and raises his hand to cup her face. Remus looks down at her with a sweet adoration she knows cannot be real. She's seen this sort of soft look from him countless times before and now she knows better than anyone that it's just another cover. Perhaps it was perfectly clear since the start, but she had let herself get swept away with naive hope. The start of nothing. She feels like a fool.

Remus's head ducks slightly as the space between them closes. Y/N goes perfectly still as she watches his other hand rise, his fingers trembling a little as they reach to curve around her jaw.

For a moment, she entertains the thought and wonders what would happen if she just closes her eyes. She could close her eyes, could lean in and feel his eyelashes brush her cheek, could let him kiss her senseless. It would be so easy. It scares her a little how much she wants that.

Before she can betray herself, Y/N closes her hand around his wrist. “You can stop now,” she says, her voice low and steadier than she felt.

Remus freezes, his dazed expression crumpling in confusion. She takes a steadying breath, swallowing back the bile in her throat as she schools her expression with difficulty. Y/N places his wrist back down away from her face and lets go as she continues, despite the dull ache in her chest. “I wanted to know how far you would go,” she continues quietly. “How far you thought I would be willing to go.”

“I don’t understand—” Remus begins, a myriad of stricken dismay, alarm, and something else flickering across his face. For a moment, she thinks it’s the residue of desire, but she quickly remembers how good of an actor Remus is, and doesn’t let herself entertain that thought that it’s anything else besides panic for being caught.

"I know you're just using me," Y/N says, her throat dry. Her voice, to her mortification, cracks and comes out as a croak. Any sense of anger deflates immediately and all she can feel is this crumbling sense of defeat. “I should have known that something was strange when you suddenly confessed. We had never even really talked before that. I mean, I thought that I was dreaming when you said you liked me—"

“No, it's because—”

"I know why you did it," she whispers. Remus freezes, the color draining from his face. "The worse part of all this is that I can't find it in myself to hate you for using me. But I had just thought that you didn’t think so little of me as to…” She doesn’t finish as she stares down at the space between them, swallowing thickly. She feels ill. The last sentence had come out before she realized it. So that was what it was — disappointment.

"Did you even know my name before James said it?" She asks with a bark of a forced laugh as she straightens, setting her shoulders now though she still has a difficult time looking directly at him.

Remus swallows thickly as he steps forward. His pause is enough of an answer. "Let me explain,” he begins quickly, his words tumbling out in a frantic mess. “Y/N, wait,” he starts, reaching out.

“Don’t touch me, Lupin,” she says dejectedly, stepping away from him. Remus flinches and freezes, his expression falling, but she can't bring herself to look at him in the eye anymore. Y/N stares at the worn patch of carpet by her shoe as she swallows thickly before turning to leave. "You can tell everyone that you broke up with me if it helps you."

— — — — —

a/n: thx for reading! pt. 2 here my masterlist here

#pt two from remus pov?? #hp #hp marauders #harry potter fanfiction #hp imagine #harry potter imagine #the marauders #marauders era #hp drabble #harry potter drabble #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #regulus black #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #light angst #remus lupin fanfiction #hp fanfic

[cantstops1mping]

Thinking about James being a big bear boyfriend; being very touchy, always wanting to hug you. Hugging you from behind whenever he sees you around the campus. Always greeting you with a hug and a whole lot of kisses. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

#james potter #james x reader #hogwarts au #marauders au #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter x reader fluff #fluff #drabble #hp fandom #hp #harry potter #hp drabble #hp fluff

[morsmordream]

my random HP family headcanons that i firmly stand by

(not canon compliant)

creature blood was remarkably common in the older family lines that existed before modern-day laws. it is rather rare that these families produce true creatures themselves, even half-blooded creatures, but the blood can often manifest into family gifts. for example, creature blood is how the slytherin line have their ability to speak parseltongue.

the black family are world-renowned in various fields. they’ve produced countless scholars, and some of the finest duellists of each generation. but the family specialty, that everyone learns, is curse-breaking and it’s inverse. there’s a terrible item in the family vault that could kill you if you touch it? contact the blacks. you need an object enchanted to persuade someone into supporting a wizengamot bill? contact the blacks. expensive as their services may be, it’s always worth the money. customer satisfaction guaranteed.

the black family have held their reputation for dabbling in the darkest of arts, even black magic, since their very beginning. their family name comes from their reputation of practicing black magic. this is separate from dark magic, and is a dead art today. whilst books exist in the darkest corners of very few family’s vaults and libraries, the sacrifices required have deterred anyone who picked them up for centuries. a branch of black magic involves the summoning of beings from beyond our world, ‘demons’ as they are often referred to. the summoning of a shape-shifting demon, and subsequent procreation with, is a potential reason why only the black family have metamorphmagi in britain today- though this claim is unproven, and no longer proudly claimed by the family itself.

the malfoys have veela blood, especially these days. it was a rather scandalous affair when abraxas malfoy married a french witch, amelie bonnacord, who had been adopted into a notable pureblood family and happened to be a veela. the malfoys already had distant veela ancestry, making abraxas resistant to the veela allure. their children, lucius and lydia malfoy, were therefore half veela, and her grandchildren, including draco malfoy, a quarter veela. the veela allure seemed to work differently with men, and little was known about it as men born to those with veela blood was rare. the malfoys spend most holiday seasons in france, visiting family, and all speak fluent french.

the potter family never have been, and never should be seen as, a sparkling beacon for light magic. as necromancers by blood, no matter how much time passes since their amalgamation with the peverells, they naturally lean towards darker magic to facilitate practicing the art. not every potter has dabbled in their family gift, it’s not a requirement, but the ancient books in the family vault cannot be destroyed and will always return to the vault after a necromancer passes.

a few centuries into the past, the potter family migrated to india before a couple of branches returned to britain in the early 20th century. fleamont potter and his cousin, charlus potter, were the first potters to be born on british soil for centuries. fleamont potter married euphemia patil, a half-indian british witch, and had james potter. james potter, upon marrying lily evans, had harry potter- who was half indian.

the lupin family have a long history of naturally born werewolves, hence their family name. as time went on, and laws changed, werewolves born into the family would assimilate into packs instead of living as wizards with a dark secret. with time, fewer and fewer werewolves were born into the family, and the werewolf blood appeared dormant. remus lupin became a werewolf through an attack from fenrir greyback- the first werewolf in the family in several generations. his condition did not pass onto his son, but it is possible that remus being a werewolf may awaken the possibility of future werewolves in the lupin line in generations to come.

the weasleys hail from an old irish clan, one which they no longer practice the traditions and magic of- deeming them outdated in an age where they are deemed ‘blood traitors’ for their love and acceptance of muggleborns. the family magic is largely based around the elements, and is only really practiced by bill and charlie- though fred and george dabble in it from time to time. due to turning their backs on tradition, the weasley manor wards refused to grant entry to those in the family who did not practice their family magics- which is why they live in the burrow instead.

the weasleys fall from grace is infamous in pureblood circles. before the first war, they were actually a rather wealthy family. arthur weasley’s auror wage was enough to live off with two less children, and their vault was plentiful. molly added to their income by authoring books on household charms and tutoring pureblood daughters in etiquette. unfortunately, molly encouraged arthur to funnel money into the order of the phoenix to help with the war- they were not active participants, rather financial backers. by the war’s end, the family vault had been halved, they had two more children, and molly had quit authoring books to raise the children. she soon quit tutoring too, turning her back on other pureblood families due to her paranoia that anyone who hadn’t aided the order in the war were all dark and thus contributed somehow to her brothers deaths. soon after, arthur left the aurors and moved to head the misuse of muggle artifices office at molly’s insistence, due to her persistent paranoia- this time that something horrible would befall him as an auror. this caused another significant drop in the family’s finances, gaining them their reputation of being a poor family with more children than they can clothe.

the nott family are descended from viking clansmen in norway, and the majority of the family are still based there today. they’re very proud of this heritage, and every child born into the family is trained extensively in hand to hand combat from a young age. the nott family additional pre-schooling education also includes the language of old norse, nordic history, ancient runes, and runic magic. the england-based branch of the family add norwegian on to this as well.

the gaunt line, and subsequently the slytherin line, are only extinct in britain (the cursed child is not canon to me idc about delphini). a branch of the family, descended from one ominis gaunt, live on in france and have long abandoned their practices of inbreeding. the branch or branches of the family that remained on british soil rapidly squandered all that remained in their vaults by the turn of the 20th century, leading the family to financial and societal ruin with only their heritage and a few heirlooms remaining intact.

the lovegood family are rather notable as one of the few remaining seer lines in britain. pandora lovegood, upon marrying xenophilius ollivander, found her own seer ability passed down to her daughter luna. many overlook their seer lineage and focus more on the family’s eccentricity, forgetting that true seers rarely speak in plain language- they cannot always just speak the truth of what their visions show them, they must relay what they have seen in a way that makes others search for the answer. it’s not that hard to understand when you actually try it.

#harry potter #hp fandom #hp headcanon #dark harry potter #hp drabble #harry potter headcanon #harry potter drabble #harry potter fandom #the ancient and most noble house of black #draco malfoy #luna lovegood #house of gaunt #weasley family #remus lupin #theodore nott

[teacup-gathering-itself]

I think Harry James Potter would have such a different approach to devotion and romantic love.

You’re telling me the Boy-Who-Lived, the Savior of the Wizarding World, defeater of the Dark Lord wouldn’t feel so relieved that he only has to love and protect one person instead of the whole world? What a huge weight off his shoulders.

But slowly, he’d slip back into the pattern of feeling just as deeply as he did during his childhood, just concentrated on his partner.

It takes a certain special type of person to withstand that much devotion and attention all aimed at you, constantly. Because Harry was nothing if not vigilant about people’s behavior and reactions after living with the Dursleys and surviving an active war.

Exploring intimacy is something new to Harry, on top of it all, so besides having the emotional gauge used to caring for everyone all the time forever, he doesn’t have any sort of sense for how much is too much.

He loves like James, who loved like the sun, but Harry doesn’t seem to realize that too much love too fast will burn. He is all in and almost omnipresent. You don’t just get to sunbathe in his love, you’re under a magnifying glass that brings all the intensity of an active star onto you, multiplied. His love burns, and it takes a special kind of person to even be able to bear it, let alone to gaze upon his love.

The average person would char under this emotional hurricane, it’s not a healthy level of intensity for a well-adjusted adult with emotional regulation skills and normal boundaries. It’s not normal for someone to love someone so fiercely and to change their personality from loving all people to loving one person without losing a huge quantity of emotional range. Harry Potter has never been normal, however.

//////////////////////////

Anyways this can be applied to any ship I just think it makes so much sense for Draco because he had that level of attentiveness directed at him from birth, and is vain enough to relish this insane level of devotion and honestly obsession from a partner. Of course he’s looked after so closely, he’s Draco Malfoy. And who wouldn’t adore all this attention, he’s got Harry Potter attending to his every whim. It’s decadence personified.

#harry potter thoughts #harry potter imagine #harry potter #harry potter rant #hp imagine #harry james potter #hp fandom #hp thoughts #hp drabble #drarry #hpdm #dmhp #harry/draco #harry x draco #harry potter fandom #harry potter x draco malfoy #harry potter/draco malfoy

[skydawng]

ron: I can't imagine Snape with a sex life

*hermione and harry just staring at him*

*ron trying to imitate snapes voice*:Move to position 394

*hermione and harry choking on air*

#harry potter #hp fic #tumblr fyp #follow #hp fandom #harry potter quotes #hp drabble #harry james potter #request #hermione granger #drabble #funny quotes #incorrect quote #severus snape #professor snape #snape content #pro snape #snape community #snape fandom #snapedom #snape #ron weasley #ron weasly imagine #griffindor

[hprewetts]

an angsty blurb or one shot with Remus dc what about🩷

i'm so sorry it took me a few days omg, i'm the world's slowest writer. that said, tysm for leaving a request<333 i hope i was enough, i used "you" because it comes more naturally to me but if someone wants third person they can say so and i'll try to suffice. i'm still very new to writing this format of fics but i appreciate the trust, here we go :)

This is not a tragedy

summary: you ask remus to get married after james and lily announce their engagement. his answer does not surprise you. 571 words. pairing: remus lupin x reader tags: non committed remus lupin, angst no comfort, open ending, break up (sort of), use of "you" for reader

"Let's do it," you say, "let's get married."

The air is cold against your cheeks once you step onto the balcony. Your breath comes out in white clouds of smoke, drawing trails of mist that disappear against the winds of winter. The words, too, come out slowly from your mouth.

Remus is smoking a cigarette, leaning onto the veranda. James, Sirius, Lily and Peter left a while ago. It's just you two now.

You wait, expectant. The snow rages outside your little flat. It rages inside you, too.

"We want to do it while we can," James had explained at the table, holding onto Lily's hands. The gesture had you breathless for a moment, painfully aware of how much you are missing. "We might not survive the war, the time for living is now."

And you had thought he had been right, at the time. James and Lily wanted to die without regrets and, in a way, their wedding itself was a defiance against the war.

You can not subdue us, it said, you cannot scare us. A pureblood and a muggleborn would be joined in marriage in the middle of the world's greatest attempt to stop exactly that. There is some sort of irony about it that sits quite right.

It's less romantic to you, really. Your love is but a mundane feeling.

James and Lily are larger than life in contrast; their union a symbol of something rebellious, their love alive against all odds.

You feel a little selfish, after giving it some thought, because the only thing you want is Remus to yourself. But perhaps just loving is enough, during these times of terror.

Remus inhales, then slowly lets out a puff of smoke. You just stare, trying to remember this moment. The way his tousled hair sits against his forehead, that scar on his nose you've always been so fond, the way his scars shine against the moonlight. You try to remember, treasure this instant so it won't be lost forever, knowing that you'll lose him.

"I'm sorry," Remus says without meeting your gaze. It's something quiet and small, you can't bring yourself to blame him. "But I can't."

The blow comes quietly, making your chest hurt. You can't say this is groundbreaking, that the world shatters around you because it does not. You held a little hope that he'd say yes, that his love for you would be stronger than whatever it is he's fighting back.

But it does not.

You were always an outsider, a stranger in your own relationship. Remus had always hidden something from you, something big, that you should have known. He disappeared, for days on end, and would never tell you where. When you asked about his scars, he'd lie, his innermost worries, he'd never tell. Remus never let you see him whole, but you thought he would, with time and patience, and that was your mistake.

You were just never that kind of couple.

"I'm sorry," Remus says again.

"I know," you whisper.

"I love you," he repeats.

"I know," you say back.

You try to remember this moment, record it on your memory, but even as he stands before you, the details have already started escaping your memory.

Remus Lupin was never and would never be yours. But you've known that for so long it might as well not hurt at all.

Except it does. It really, really does.

#remus lupin x reader #marauders era #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #hp drabble #the marauders #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin angst #pls be kind i'm new to writing tumblr #my requests are open #:)

[luv-loo]

Christmas with Neville Longbottom

Masterpost || Harry Potter Masterlist

Neville Longbottom x GN!Reader

Headcanon/Drabble: The first time with your new boyfriend during the festive season

Warnings: These drabbles/headcanons are directed towards a teen audience, as this takes place during Hogwarts schooling. You can read it as a backstory as sorts, but keep in mind the reader and Neville are minors. Neville’s parents and backstory is part of this headcanon, so be weary when reading.

Notes/Anything Else: Neville’s my favourite and a major comfort of mine. With Christmas coming I was thinking about this little thing hehe, hope you enjoy ! I haven’t done a format like this before… is it a drabble ? Idk…

Christmas times always been a iffy topic to Neville.

You noticed it when the Christmas holidays were coming closer, whenever someone would ask what each other plans were during the time. The teen would slug down a bit in his spot and have a dejected face for the conversation. You didn’t pry… to much.

When you two started dating your 5th year, you really took notice of it.

You found him in the common room, looking on the brink of tears, curled next to the fire place.

It broke your heart. “Why is my love so sad?”

You sat on the floor in front of the chair he was curled in. You asked what was wrong.

The common room was empty as everyone was packing to leave for the holiday, but you still whispered.

Neville didn’t say anything for a solid 10 minutes. All that was heard was the crackle and pops of the fire place.

“… my nan likes to have Christmas with my mum and dad.”

You turned to face him, his chubby cheeks had tears slowly rolling down. Your heart was breaking even more.

Neville didn’t live with his parents, you knew that, but he never talked about what had happened with them or even if they were alive.

“Nan says they’ll know who I am when I’m there.” Sniffles were coming in clumps now.

You sat up immediately and placed yourself on the arm rest next to him, taking hold of his hand and squeezing tight, a gesture you know will calm him down. “What do you mean by that? Love, you can tell me anything.”

Sobbing was echoed through out the room, you squeeze his hand impossibly harder. He explains St Margo’s, and how they’ve lost themselves. (You could tell he was holding back, but you wouldn’t dare push him any further, with all he’s said already)

A great pain of sadness deep in your chest gathered. By that point forward, you made sure your boyfriends Christmas were special.

You brought your own Christmas decor from home and set them up in the green house (with permission). A small Christmas tree with red & gold ornaments, with present, sweets and all Neville favourite plants surrounding it.

The first time your brought him to your little set up, you bouncing on the heels of your feet while you told him he can open his eyes now.

First, shock, then disbelief and lastly utter gratefulness crossed his face when tears started coming down.

You embraced him in the tightest hug, wiped his tears away and kissed his cheek.

Carefully taking him by the hand, you lead him to a little picnic blanket laid out with sweets of all sorts that you brought last time in Hogsmeade.

“I don’t deserve you at all.” He whispered, wiping his, now, puffy red eyes. You stop, turned to him, and cuffed his cheeks.

“Don’t tell me you don’t deserve anything, especially me, because that means you deserve everything.”

#loo fics #harry potter headcanon #harry potter drabble #hp x reader #hp x gn!reader #hp headcanon #hp drabble #neville longbottom #neville longbottom x reader #sfw #Neville longbottom x gn!reader #neville longbottom x you #neville longbottom x y/n #head canon #drabble #neville longbottom headcanon #neville longbottom drabble #neville longbottom fluff #reader insert #x reader #gn reader #gn!reader #gn!y/n #christmas fic #christmas headcannons #christmas drabble #hogwarts

[rxsilabeth--er]

let's inagurate this blog with a good note shall we? >:3

Hear me out- on the line of the bullying Tom Riddle agenda Tom's boggart in DADA class is actually the reader about to ruin his whole career because that would be hilarious

☎ Now Calling......Author: "Hello? Hai, yes, thank you for requesting this Hazel, I will surely not disappoint you and hopefully you enjoy reading this, I love bullying Tom as well! Okay, talk to you later! Bye!!"

☎ Now Calling......Synopsis: "Hello! Hai..okay!!...Hmmm....Tom, the prince of Slytherin and feared and admired by many of his fellow peers and students at Hogwarts....find out his worst fear at Defense Against the Dark Arts call with a boggart...but..one second! Why is there a Hufflepuff tie being shown in the human figure of the boggart???"

☎ Now Calling......Warnings: "...nothing...other than Tom Riddle himself as a whole! Anyways....crack..kind of fluff???? Don't know..Bye!! I'm not a funny person!! I know, sorry! I tried my best..."

Scarily Cute Boggart...

Tom didn't really want to move to class, but he still did...He was the Head boy! Of-course he would!!....and because he didn't want you to bully him into doing it... as he sat down Tom was also trying his HARDEST to not put the cruciatus curse on his classmate as he scribbled something in his diary..Waiting for the professor to come as it was their practical...Abraxas beside him gossiping about something...to which Tom definitely wasn't paying attention to..

Finally the professor entered the room, pulling a large rack behind him which seemed to shake and move, making everyone curious...Tom closed his diary and walked ahead to understand things..

"....Good morning! So...today's topic is...can you guess it???" of-course no student could, "..Okay..so in this shoe rack....we have a boggart!" The students then all murmured a bit worriedly, as the closet gave a huge jolt

"Can anyone tell me what a boggart is???" of-course Tom's hand stood up before a few others, "..Boggart is a creature which lives in dark spaces and takes the form of whatever a person fears most."

"..Good job Riddle! 5 points to Slytherin!" the professor said as he explained the boggart's personality, habitat, living conditions, etc. before finally explaining how to repel a boggart.

"Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!!" the students repeated even Tom did, he was starting to feel a bad vibe coming from the cupboard and he didn't know how to explain it but he felt as though he would forever be embarrassed after this class...

"..Alright, now Riddle!! Do come forward boy!" the professor said as Tom stepped ahead brushing his worries aside, he can't have that! As the professor held his shoulder and pointed his wand at the rack door,

"..Alright, now..1...2...3" the professor did a spell as the rack knob moved and it flew open, the rack was dark inside and nothing could be seen, but a crouched figure of a person was seen, they straightened their back though still crouched and the sunlight hit their shirt....

a Hufflepuff tie...

A Hufflepuff tie...Tom....the heir of Slytherin, the head boy....Tom Riddle...was scared of a Hufflepuff!? That sounds like the biggest joke anyone has heard...or seen in this case...

Tom on the other hand stood there frozen..His cheeks red and his angrily glaring at the boggart...his wand pointed at the boggart who was now slowly moving forward, the sunshine now fell on it's Hufflepuff tie and mischievous grin...

"..Oh Tommy~ " a similar voice said in a teasing voice..it wasn't even cruel....but instead endearing in a way?

Don't know, but Tom began to shake in either fear or anger and pointed his wand at the boggart...who was still hidden in the shadow, only it's grin and tie showing..

"...Ri...Riddi..Riddkulus!!"...TOM RIDDLE STUTTERED?! and suddenly the boggart was switched into a tiny jack-in-the-box...

"..Good....good job... Good job Tom! fifty points to Slytherin!" the professor said forcing the boggart in as he patted Tom's shoulder..Tom was still frozen turned around and walked away embarrassed for life as Abraxas followed him with a grin asking, "..So...Tommy? What was that???" Abraxas's grin dropped from his lips when Tom glared at...Abraxas left and Tom moved to Slytherin dormitory. Tom walked up the stairs to his dorm to find you already sitting there grinning at a couldron mixed with some type of potions...

Oh god...everyone knew the boggart...and maybe they understand why you were his boggart...if they have experienced your words..even though you're a Hufflepuff....

© This writing work belongs to me, rxsilabeth--er, Aurelia, Rosilabeth, Cerine. Reblogging is appreciated, but plagiarizing or copying my works is forbidden, thank you for reading this and if you like this check out my blog!

#Now calling ☎...... ╚ Tom Riddle ╗ #rosi⌗writes⌗ #rosi⌗answers⌗!!!!!<3333 #harry potter #hp fandom #hp fanart #hp fanfic #tom riddle x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle headcanon #tom riddle drabbles #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle scenarios #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfiction #hp x reader #hp x y/n #hp x you #hp imagine #hp headcanon #hp scenarios #hp fanfiction #hp drabble #hp tom riddle x reader

[thistlecatfics]

Dog Star in the Sun (200 words, wolfstar, G)

Two years after the war, Remus and Sirius go on holiday. It feels good.

Written on vacation as a challenge to write fluff <3

Read on ao3 or below the cut

The Azkaban chill never fully left him, but, with the sun shining on the Menorca beach, Sirius pretends otherwise. Tomorrow, Remus will rub the aloe-mugwort salve on his body to undo the damage, but today the hot Mediterranean sun burns the prison out of Sirius’s bones. 

A child’s happy yelp down the beach interrupts the steady alterations of rumbling waves and the hiss of water pulling away from sand, called by the moon away from the shore. The scent of cigar smoke intermixes with salt spray and sunscreen. 

Here, the Black surname means nothing except to mark him as another British tourist, skinny and pale, though one who has even less sense of the conversion of pounds to pesetas and the introducing euro than most. Sirius is on the younger side of forty, but his weary bones could pass for a handsome fifty.

His moon-scarred lover lies asleep next to him, a paperback covering his face, ribs rising and falling. 

Remus stretches; his sandy toe brushes Sirius’s burnt calf with every breath, an insistent scratch against sensitive skin. It would be painful if it didn’t feel like love. 

Shoulders loosened. An exhale in the new millennium. Sirius lets himself rest.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #hp drabble #thistlecat fic

[percyweas1ey]

Another snippet of the Trans!Percy WIP here, I’ve cut off one of my favourite bits so that can stay a surprise, but the relationship between Percy and Charlie so one of my favourite parts of the fic (and was very well received by my beta ❤️)

They sat in silence for a minute or two, whilst Percy tried to find some of the words that would even begin to describe quite how he felt. “I’m not gay, though I mean I’d never really thought much about stuff like that anyway, I thought it was rather normal to like both I suppose.” He took in a deep breath, once again dropping his gaze before he continued, “you sound like Penny you know? She says stuff like this a lot, I often think she knows me better than I know myself. Throws around words I never knew like ‘transgender’, and thinks I’m a girl somewhere inside. But I don’t want to be. I don’t want to be some…some weird person who’ll always be more of a man than a woman where it counts. I don’t…I don’t want to admit she’s right because then there’s something wrong with me.” He finished with a whisper, heart pounding. Quicker than he could blink, Charlie’s arms were wrapped around him. “I just want to be a normal man, with a nice ministry job, a lovely partner and maybe a child or two and it feels like if I give in to whatever this is, I won’t have any of that.” He kept his gaze low, waiting for Charlie’s reply.

He found himself surprised when Charlie tapped him on the shoulder and offered him a cigarette, an incredible gesture now his stash was already beginning to drain quicker than he would’ve liked. “Don’t play coy, I’ve seen you wandering around near the edge of the fence enough, just be grateful it was me and not mum.” Percy gave an embarrassed smile, a small blush creeping up his neck as he accepted the cigarette and lit it with the lighter Charlie immediately chucked to him, whilst lighting his own with a quick incendio. “So, you’re a girl then? I know you said you don’t want to be one, but I mean, if it’s anything like the stuff I know, and admittedly that’s not a lot, you can’t change this stuff Perce, you just either decide to do something or not, and you can’t just hide something like this forever, it’s who you are, it’s not fair to do that to yourself. The Ministry won’t have a problem, and if they do then fuck them Perce, this is so much more important that a job like that, I know you might not agree but it is. If you have to, go into research or history, do a mastery or something, you’d be more valued doing that in my opinion anyway, but that’s not what this is about.” Charlie took a long drag and flicked his ash absentmindedly, with Percy following suit.

Percy crossed his legs and took a drag, exhaling slowly and watching the smoke disappear into nothingness. “I suppose…well I guess I am then yeah. Penny tried calling me she once to see how I’d feel. I didn’t want to tell her at the time but it did feel better. You finally dragged it out of me I suppose, she’ll be glad to hear when I write her later.” He, no, she replied softly, a weight lifting off her shoulders. “I don’t really know what to do from here on, my hair was a start but I don’t really want to tell mum and dad yet, I’d do more at Hogwarts but I know it would get back to them somehow.” She took another drag on her cigarette sadly.

#harry potter #percy weasley #percy weasley defense squad #trans percy weasley #hp #hp fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp drabble #hp headcanon #bi percy weasley #bisexual percy weasley

[mangomonk]

i've been dreaming

↳ summary: read this drabble and pt. 1 first! remus deals with the repercussions of falling in love too late. ↳ content: angst, happy ending, mentions of eating/sleeping properly ↳ a/n: get comfy, this is a long one! i really appreciated and loved each comment from pt. 1, it made my day to see y'all scream heartbreak. would love to hear your thoughts on this one : D anyways, i went back and forth on my characterization of remus a million times, but i hope this version of him resonates and i hope you enjoy :") tense/grammar is all over the place, minimal proofreading but i've stared at this for too long. p.s. i'm kinda proud af about connecting the titles, they're from ivy by frank ocean.

Remus has been dreaming. Every time she had looked at him, he had felt like he was dreaming.

There wasn't a moment in particular that Remus could name when he realized he wanted her to look at him. He was in the middle of it before he even knew he had begun, though maybe a part of him had known it would have been futile to resist when she looked at him like that.

Or maybe it had been an accumulation of moments of Remus longing for her to look at him.

Maybe it had been when they had started their fourth study date together when Remus had decided he needed to act like a normal person and have strict boundaries instead of casting sidelong glances at her over the top of his book. He couldn't help but look at her as he tried to figure out why in the world a girl like her would ever agree to date him in the first place — he had only really asked so that he could be rejected and put the whole thing behind him.

But it wasn't his fault that the more glances he stole at her, the more he noticed the way her expression changed with each new story she read. It wasn't his fault that her lips parted when she was concentrating too hard on Ancient Runes. It wasn't his fault that her lips were the same color as his mother's tulips. But she never noticed when — or how — he looked at her, to his mingled relief and disappointment. It wasn't his fault at all, he reasoned — anyone would notice these things if they just looked at her properly. It baffled him a little how no one else seemed to have noticed this things about her yet.

It had been that day that Remus had decided he needed to start acting normal. He needed to learn how to control his eyes before he bore holes through her face. So he had focused on reviewing his Magical Theory textbook. Even though he had been rereading the same line for over five minutes. Even though he was so painfully aware that if he moved his leg out just slightly, his knees would knock against hers. Even though he could begin to feel her glancing up at him from across the table. When had he become so attuned to her gaze?

But he hadn't looked up, frustratingly going against every fiber in his body, because he needed to be normal and have boundaries and this was temporary. Even if she was looking at him like that. Remus Lupin, with his ever so strong willpower, hadn't looked up to meet her not-so-secret secret glances and had scribbled a note on his scrap of parchment and slid it over.

Hogsmeade this weekend?

Or maybe it had been when they had gone to Hogsmeade, the first time they had done anything together outside of studying. Asking her to go was a stroke of madness, but Remus had reasoned it to be a healthy show of their relationship, no matter how temporary it was supposed to be. It wouldn't make sense if they were dating and only ever studied together, right?

Right.

He had thought about sending an owl to cancel, even as he tried on Sirius's shirt for the second time — the night before, he had come to the sobering realization that all his clothes were plain. He had thought about telling her that he caught a cold, even as he let James slather Euphemia's silkifying potions through his hair. He had still been thinking about canceling even as his feet took him to the entrance gate—

—and she had been wearing a skirt.

It had been one of those long and flowy Muggle skirts — Remus had never before paid attention to women's fashion, but after that moment, he realized that maybe he ought to subscribe to one of Lily's Witch Weekly magazines so that he could get her more skirts, or rather, more of anything, he thought she'd look pretty in anything. Had he said pretty out loud?

Remus Lupin didn't have butterflies in his stomach, he had damn hummingbirds.

"Hi," he had said, a little too tersely and sharply.

"Hi," she had said back, all smiles. Despairingly, he had noticed that she was wearing lipstick. When he stared at her a little dumbly and didn't say anything back, her smile turned nervous as she fidgeted with the collar of her blouse. Impulsively, his eyes darted to follow the motion. "So... Hogsmeade?"

He wasn't going to tell her she looked pretty because he had laid out his boundaries. And if he started, he would never stop— "You look preautiful," he had blurted, stricken.

Her eyes had widened a fraction before she broke into a laugh. A proper laugh, not the quiet, library huff type of laughs he had grown fond of hearing. The warmth in his chest had spread all over and it had felt like it got to his head as a fog, rendering him unable to think. Remus had no idea what to do with the new, dizzying knowledge that she looked absurdly stunning when she was laughing, but all he could think about during their walk to Hogsmeade was how he might make her laugh again.

Or maybe it had been the first time he had properly introduced her to the Marauders. She had stepped closer to him instinctively — perhaps nervously, because Sirius was staring at her too appraisingly with narrowed eyes — when the back of her knuckles had brushed against his. Remus had nearly jumped out of his skin. Sirius's gaze had darted to him swiftly, his gray eyes knowingly bright with interest.

"Pleased to meet you," Sirius had said a moment later, his face breaking into a warm smile, but Remus wasn't paying attention anymore. He was just trying to figure out how he might hook his pinky with hers.

All this to say that there hadn't been one particular moment Remus Lupin could have pinpointed that had sealed his fate of wanting to be under her gaze.

The first time she looked at him, it was the start of nothing and when she looked away that night, it was the end of everything.

Remus wished she yelled at him. Hell, he even wished she had called him a monster, cursed him, hexed him. Remus thought that he would have been happier if she looked at him with contempt and disgust in her eyes, which only weeks ago had been his greatest fear when he considered telling her about his lycanthropy. The thought back then had kept him up at night, but Remus found himself dreaming for it now. Anything if it meant that he didn't hurt her the way he had. He found himself dreaming that she would just look at him again.

If Remus thought he had been panicked that night, it was nothing compared to the next day when he realized she was avoiding him. She hadn't shown up to the Great Hall — Remus knew this because he got there the moment the doors opened to make sure to catch her — and she didn't show up to any of their classes for the remainder of the day. The Marauder's Map showed that she was unmoving in her dormitory. When Remus finally did catch sight of her the next day in the Great Hall, he burst to his feet but froze a moment later. She walked past him, her expression one of unfamiliar blankness.

"Y/N!" He called, lurching forward towards her.

When she turned away from him to avoid meeting his gaze, Remus felt something like dismay sink so heavily and swiftly in his chest, like a stone thrown into a calm lake. The idea that Y/N wouldn’t look at him again drove him half-mad with a panicked disquietude that sent him scrambling to find a way to talk to her again. 

He tried in the Great Hall, but she stopped coming. She would arrive just late enough that class would start and would disappear the moment class ended. She stopped going to the library. Even with the Marauder's Map, he had no luck. The closer he tried to get to her, the further she stayed away.

Remus thought he was dreaming when he saw her alone in the corridor one Hogsmeade weekend when he couldn't bring himself to leave.

"Y/N," he said instinctively, hopefully. She looked up, her surprised expression immediately shuttering close. "Can we talk? Just for a moment?" He asked, stepping towards her. When she didn't move away, he straightened, encouraged.

“I know,” Remus began, his throat bobbing as he swallowed back the jolt of despair when he realized that she still wasn't looking at him. The despair only grew into a gnawing worry when he noticed the way shadows lined her eyes, the planes of her face hollower. Was she taking care of herself? "I know you don't want to see me anymore, cariad, but—"

"You don't get to call me that anymore."

He sucked in a breath, steeling himself before continuing. "Okay," he whispered, "Okay. I know. And I'm sorry, Y/N. I've never been more sorry in my life. And I won't ever ask you to forgive me. But, but I'm selfish because I want you to know that it was real for me."

She looked like she was folding in on herself as she clutched her forearms. "It wasn't real. You don't actually like me, Rem— Lupin," she said evenly, her tone neither cold nor warm. "It could have been anyone else."

"No, I do, I do," Remus lurched forward, desperate and earnest and wishing. "I like you, and maybe it wasn't real in the beginning, but it's real now. Like isn't even a strong enough word for how I feel about you, Y/N. I lo—"

"Don't." At the harsh steeliness of her tone, Remus froze, stricken, his heart dropping to his feet. "Don't say it."

"But it's true," he whispered entreatingly, imploring her to look at him again. "It's been true for awhile now."

"I don't believe you."

Each word hit him in the chest like a sharp pang, the stricken feeling in his chest clenching around his heart. "Okay," Remus swallowed back the crumpling sense of despair as he nodded earnestly. "That's okay," he whispered, as if not to spook a wild animal. "I... I'll show you." He had so much he wanted to say, so much that he wanted to show her. If he had been honest since the beginning, he wouldn't have hurt her. But maybe if he was honest now, it wasn't too late — he could still fix things. "You have my heart, Y/N," he continued softly, "—and you can break it, if you want, if you'll give me another chance—"

"I don't need it," she said quietly, looking away from him again. "Nor do I want it."

— — — — —

Remus stopped dreaming as he stopped sleeping.

"You should get some sleep tonight, mate," James said as he edged near his friend. "Full moon coming up."

Remus grunted in his response as he continued writing at his desk.

"Prongs is right," Sirius agreed, exchanging a quick look with the others. "She'll come around soon, anyone with eyes can see how you look at her. And how she looks at you."

"Why don't you talk to her again?" James suggested gently as he sat on the edge of Remus's bed.

"She doesn't want to," Remus said quietly, a blot of ink pooling at the end of his quill as he tried not to think about their last conversation.

"Why not write her a letter then?" Sirius asked. "Look, Moony, we're worried about you..."

A letter, Remus thought dimly as he stared down at the parchment in front of him.

Cariad, he began before setting his quill down to stare at the word. The first time he had called her cariad had been a slip of tongue. When he was younger, before his father had burnt himself out trying to find a cure to his lycanthropy, his father used to call his mother cariad. It was like a gentle period at the end of each sentence, an endearment that said everything all at once.

It had slipped into the end of his sentence one morning when he had asked her if she wanted orange juice or apple juice. Maybe it was too early to confess love, but it had slipped out, subtle and quiet like their time together.

"What's that?" She had asked, her attention now caught. "Car-iad," she said slowly, as she tried pronouncing the word carefully. Remus had thought he could have kissed her then.

"It's Welsh," he had said, keeping his tone light and casual as he reached for her cup.

But she had been as attentive as ever, her eyes seeing right through him as they tracked across his face carefully. It didn't help that he could feel his ears begin to burn. Despite himself though, Remus delighted being under her attention, and had relished it even as she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "For?"

Remus had schooled his expression carefully. "For 'Y/N can never pick between orange juice and apple juice,'" he had deadpanned, inwardly delighting in the way her lips twitched as she huffed, unconvinced.

"Today is an orange juice day," she had declared finally. Remus had bit back a smile as he poured her juice. When she took it, she had smiled at him around the rim of the cup. "Thank you, cariad."

Remus had thought that he was dreaming.

Remus picked up his quill again and got a fresh sheet of parchment. Dove, he began again before promptly crossing it out. A new piece of parchment. Y/N, he started again. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. He missed saying her name. When the squeeze in his chest got too tight to ignore, he set his quill down and rested his forehead against his desk and closed his eyes. He had hurt her so terribly, the person he loved. And Remus resented himself for it. He didn't have the right to call her cariad or dove or darling or anything anymore. He didn't have the right to wallow in pity. He didn't have the right to try to fix things when she so clearly didn't want him anymore.

"Remus Lupin," a voice snapped sharply as the door to the dormitory flew open with a boom. "How could you—"

“Lily!” James blurted in clear alarm. "Lily, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here because you lot have really gone too far this time," Lily seethed, her eyes as fiery as her hair as she stalked into the room. "Remus, I thought you were better than this! Y/N hasn't—"

"Lily!" James jumped to his feet in a rare show of courage against the witch. He let out a nervous laugh, but to his credit, stood firm even as Lily rounded on him. “You’re making him feel worse!”

For a moment, Lily turned on James, an incredulous expression on her face before her gaze slid over to Remus, who still hadn’t looked up during the exchange. She faltered, her scowl softening as her gaze darted back to James who gave her an encouraging nod. But then the fiery-haired girl straightened. “He should feel bad,” she admonished, though the venom had begun to dissipate from her voice. 

“And he does,” Sirius supplied helpfully from his corner of the room. “Moony hasn’t really, er, moved or spoken in days, really. We’re all getting concerned.”

"Well neither has Y/N," Lily grumbled, though her tone was beginning to soften rapidly.

This caught his attention. Remus lifted his head to look at her. "Has she been taking care of herself?"

Lily narrowed her eyes at him, a crease forming between her brow as she looked at him assessingly. "Have you been taking care of yourself?"

Remus didn't say anything to this as he turned to rummage through his desk. "Will you make sure she eats and sleeps properly?" He said before finding the stack of parchment he had been looking for.

"It took me nearly an hour to get her to understand that I wasn't a part of the mess you had created," Lily said, though not harshly. Remus ignored the look of pity in her eyes as he busied himself with cobbling together a few more sheets of parchment. "I think you should be the one making sure she's alright."

At this, he paused to look down at the parchment. “She doesn’t want to be in the same room as me, let alone speak with me,” Remus pointed out, his voice unsteady. In a quieter voice, he added, “She can’t even stand looking at me.”

The room fell silent. Then finally, Lily spoke up again. "Fine. I'll check up on her but not for you, but because I'm her friend. And if you ever considered her at least a friend, you ought to do it too sometime and have a proper conversation with her."

Remus bit the inside of his cheek as he turned to proffer the stack of parchment to Lily. "Can you also give these notes to her? It's for Ancient Runes. I charmed the handwriting so she won't know it's from me, but—"

"Remus," Lily sighed, but took the notes anyways as she looked down at his desk curiously before sitting down on the edge of his bed. A pause. Remus could feel her eyes seeing right through him. "Were you ever going to tell her?"

Remus tried not to look like he was unraveling. "I don't know," he admitted honestly. "I wanted to and I didn't want to all at once all the time."

He had thought about telling her before. But to do so meant that he would have to tell her about his condition, and that had sent him into a stricken spiral every time he had thought about it. He had thought that if he told her, she would look at him differently, with pity or repulsion in her eyes. He had been so afraid, so, terrified, of that look that every time the truth nearly bubbled out of his throat, he'd choke on it. But now Remus knew that the worse thing wasn't that she would look at him like he was a monster. It was that she wouldn't look at him at all.

It had always felt like he was running on stolen time, but each grain of sand in their hourglass had felt so startling incandescent that it had been easy to pretend that they weren't trapped in a fragile glass of his own making.

Every moment he had thought to tell her, she would turn and look at him with such fond adoration that Remus would swallow the words back in. She always made for such an arresting sight that Remus felt his breath still as affection would bloom so violently, so dizzingly, so distractingly, in his chest that it became hard to say anything at all.

He was distracted by the way little crinkles would form on her nose when she was thinking too hard. He was distracted by the way he could hear her smile in her words. He was distracted by the way she breathed and walked and loved, slow and steady, to a silent metronome.

And the honest truth was that Remus was more than happy to be distracted by her.

— — — — —

When Remus woke up from a dreamless sleep the morning after the full moon, he found himself, predictably, in a bed in the Infirmary. It must have only been dawn — he could tell the room was still dim behind his eyelids as he did his mental check of his limbs. No new scars please, he thought wryly once he confirmed all his limbs were in place, albeit sore and strained. Remus sighed. Then came the more dreaded question.

"Did anyone get hurt?" He asked, his voice hoarse from his transformation.

He expected one of the boys to respond, but when no response came, his eyes flew open in a panic. They normally stayed the night in the Infirmary to get their checkup from Madam Pomfrey — Remus knew they were just there to keep him company, though they always deflected when he tried to usher them back to the dorms — and they were normally the first to assure him that no one had gotten hurt. Alarmed, Remus sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed hastily to look around, his joints groaning in protest.

"Are you hurt?" A voice next to him asked.

He was dreaming again.

Y/N was sitting in a chair next to his bed, alarm quickly breaking through the remnants of the sleepiness that clung onto her eyes as she scanned him hastily as if to ensure he was still in one piece. There was an imprint of his blanket on her cheek. Remus's fingers twitched to rub it when she spoke up again. "Should I call Madam Pomfrey?"

So it wasn't a dream.

At the sobering realization, Remus shook his head hastily. "No, I, uh, I'm fine," he said, the words faltering on his lips. Suddenly he felt very seen. He had never wanted her to see him after a transformation, especially not then, when he was all fresh scars and worn bones. He felt like a shell of himself. "What are you doing here?" He asked quietly, fixing his gaze on his hands and noticing a new scar across the back of his hand, still red and shallow. He couldn't quite look at her now as shame and mortification flooded his system.

For the first time in his life, he wished she wasn't looking at him.

"You guys normally come back earlier on full moons," she said, still looking at him. "I was worried that..." She fell silent. So she had even known their schedule, he despaired.

"I see," Remus said tightly, feeling drained.

When he didn't say anything else, she spoke up again tentatively. "Sirius told me to tell you that no one got hurt—"

Chagrin and shame roiled in his stomach as he stared at the new scar on his hand. "You can go back now," he interrupted, grasping the blanket tightly. He wished she wasn't looking at him, he wished that he didn't have a new scar, he wished that the floor would just open up and swallow him whole.

He wished this was all just a bad dream.

"I'll go if you want me to go," she said quietly. Remus couldn't tell what expression she was making because he couldn't bare to look at her. Pity, fear, disgust. He was sure he'd never recover if she was looking at him like that— "But I... I don't want to go."

His gaze darted from his hands to her face. She was biting on the inside of her cheek, her eyes wide and imploring and distracting. Slowly, it became easy to breathe again. The imprint of the blanket was fading from her cheek. Remus still wanted to rub it off.

"Okay," he acquiesced, the word coming out as a soft breath. She relaxed back into the chair. "I never wanted you to see me like this," he murmured quietly, feeling all too cracked open under her gaze.

"Remus," she began, also whispering as if not to break the fragile peace between them. His heart stuttered dangerously at the sound of his name from her lips, but he shouldered forward, adamant to not let himself start dreaming again.

"Have you... been well?" Remus asked, first as a deflection before he took in the shadows on her face. It was like once he started, he couldn't stop. "Have you been eating properly and sleeping enough—"

"Remus," she said again, this time more urgently and softly. "I got your letters."

Remus paused, his dry throat clicking as he swallowed. "So you knew the notes were from me," he murmured, rubbing at the base of his neck. "Sorry, I thought they would help, but I'll stop if you're uncomfortable—"

"No, I mean, I got your letters," she said, reaching into her book bag.

To his horror, she pulled out a stack of parchment. Some of them had were heavily creased from being balled up, but someone had carefully straightened them and piled them up. "You weren't supposed to see those," he blurted, mortified now. "I threw those away."

"I know," she said, her gaze fixed on the letters. They weren't really letters at all — he had never been able to get past how to address her. He could catch glimpses of his chicken scratch handwriting. Y/N. Dove. My sweet girl. Cariad. My love. Cariad. Cariad. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. "Lily gave them to me. She also gave me this—" Carefully, Y/N pulled another familiar piece of parchment from her bag. This one was filled and messy with different colored inks across time.

Remus's mouth went dry. He didn't need to look at it to know what it was because he had it memorized.

Ketchup and pepper with eggs (prefers sunny-side up)

Three younger brothers

Likes mum's knitted sweater the most -> owl mum how she did it??

No favorite color, but it's probably green and yellow??

Needs a midday nap most days

Likes long skirts (or is it because I complimented it?)

Y/N is Sisyphus and the question of orange juice or apple juice is the rock

Peonies

Chocolate frogs (non-jumping)

Always needs hair ties -> ask Lily if Hogsmeade has any

Tea = 3 sugars, lots of milk (prefers juice though)

Give notes for Ancient Runes

Find out if there are hair tying charms

Jane Austen

Christmas ideas: skirts, cat, necklace, journal, hair ties

"You weren't supposed to see that," he said again dumbly.

"I know," she said again. A pause. "I believe you."

Remus's head snapped up to see that she was looking at him. He was dreaming again. He shook himself out of it. "No, you don't have to," he said hastily.

"No, Remus, I believe you that it was real," she said, her words choppy as she wrung her hands together. He wanted to reach out and cover her hand with his but instead he sat perfectly still. "But I— But I was so hurt by you," she whispered.

"I'm so sorry," he said with every fiber of his being. "I was afraid and selfish and I hurt you and there's no forgiving that."

"But Remus," she said, looking up at him finally. "I've missed you. I miss you so much and I don't know what to do—" Her voice cracked. Remus felt like something in him cracked open again.

"Oh, cariad," he breathed. "Can I—" He faltered, but miraculously, she picked up on what he meant. Wordlessly, she surged into his arms and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe again. "I'm so sorry, my sweet girl," he murmured into her hair as he breathed in her familiar scent. "If... if you'll have me again, can we start over?"

"Only if it's for real this time," she mumbled into his shoulder with a dry huff of a laugh as she clutched him back. God, he missed her laugh.

He pressed a kiss against her temple, the first of many. "It's real. Very real."

Remus prayed he wasn't dreaming anymore.

— — — — —

a/n: thanks for reading :^) would love to hear thoughts! my masterlist here

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #the marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #lily evans #hp fandom #hp fanfic #hp marauders #hp imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter imagine #angst #happy ending #hp drabble #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #idk how to tag ppl so sorry

[cantstops1mping]

Thinking about Sirius, without any tattoos, letting artist!reader (his girlfriend) draw and paint on him. Sometimes even agreeing to be the muse. He always had his arms and hands covered in little drawings. You being the reason he even thought of getting tattoos. He let you draw all over his arms and hands then, that day he decided to get it all permanently tattooed. When he showed it to you he said “Since getting your name tattooed would be bad luck, I got a part of you tattooed instead.” (≧◡≦)

#marauders #marauders au #sirius black #sirius x reader #artist!reader #hp #hp au #harry potter #fluff #drabble #sirius x reader fluff #tattoos #hp fandom #hp drabble #hp fluff #sirius

[princessma1foy]

“I’m trying,” she growled, cheeks flushed with effort.

“Well, your memory obviously isn’t happy enough. You need a moment where you were completely, utterly enveloped in bliss.” Harry scrutinized her as she cast once more to no avail. “Also, you’re flicking your wand where you shouldn’t be moving it at all.”

“Ugh!” Hermione stomped her foot in frustration. The Patronus was the one charm she’d never been able to master, but with the NEWTs coming up, she desperately needed to learn it. She sighed, looking around the library as she rifled through her memories in search of a perfectly blissful moment.

As soon as she thought she might have one - the moment she’d returned her parents’ memories after the war - she took a deep breath and readied her wand.

She was preparing to cast the charm when a flicker of blond hair passing by the aisle in which they stood caught her eye. Draco Malfoy paused, examining the spine of a book with a slight furrow between his brows before pulling it off the shelf. Before continuing on his way, he glanced their way - and as his silvery eyes met Hermione’s brown ones, a completely different memory flashed through her head.

Feathery soft kisses down the length of her neck. Her breath catching as his hands moved lower, lower, then - gasping as pleasure exploded within her, seeing the curve of his perfect lips as he watched her melt into his touch. The sparks in his eyes, the passion in both of their faces as he leaned in for a deep kiss - the fireworks exploding in her stomach as they connected.

Hermione did not break her gaze, and stayed entrapped in the depths of his eyes as she managed to whisper the spell.

“Expecto Patronum.”

She barely heard Harry’s shout of joyful triumph as the silver dragon exploded from her wand, roaring and breathing flames across the length of the aisle. She could not look away from the boy at the end of the row and the wondrous expression on his face as he gazed at Hermione’s newfound Patronus.

#dramione #dramione fandom #dhr drabble #fanfic writer #dramione fanfic #dramione ff #dramione fic #dramione fluff #dramione microfic #dramione fanfiction #ao3 writer #hp microfic #hp drabble #writers on tumblr

[ticklishraspberries]

25, ler!cho, lee!harry?

drabble prompts!! // thanks for the request!! 25. "Who's the one on top now, huh?"

Cho grins down at him wickedly.

A simple 1-on-1 Quidditch practice had become a wrestling match on the ground over the Snitch, which Harry had firmly gripped in his left hand. That's how they ended up on the field, Harry trying to pin her with his free hand and failing miserably, and eventually giving in to let Cho take the upper hand, straddling his waist, grinning at him.

"Who's the one on top now, huh?" she asks. "Give me the Snitch, Harry."

"I caught it fair and square!" he replies, clutching it tight to his chest, but he can't stop smiling like a fool. His cheeks are flushed, partially from the exertion, but also because she has him flustered beyond belief.

"Give it to me," she says again, all teasing and gleaming white teeth. "Or...I'll..."

"You'll what?"

Cho pauses, thinking. She clearly hasn't thought that far, and Harry tries to take his chance and roll out from under her, but she catches on and instinctively grabs onto his sides, making him yelp.

He watches the realization in her face, that Ravenclaw intellect working to help form her plan. Harry's green eyes widen as her fingers begin to dance over his sides, and laughter begins to spill from his mouth.

Cho's giggling along with him when he finally lets go of the Snitch, letting it roll off his chest and onto the field.

However, when Cho goes to pick it up, those little silver wings pop out, and it goes flitting away into the sky. She watches in surprise, then looks back at Harry, and seems to decide that he is to blame for the Snitch's behavior.

Her fingers find his ribs, and the Quidditch match is quickly forgotten.

#ask #charry #cho x harry #harry x cho #hp rare pair #hp drabble #raspberry drabbles

[teacup-gathering-itself]

Harry Potter Soulmate AU Meet Cute (Drarry)

Harry is at Madam Malkin’s, just like he’s supposed to be, super excited about wizards and magic!!, and very happy that Hagrid said he doesn’t have to cover his tattoo on his arm, it’s special to him, not freakish.

Queue Draco walking in, not sparing a glance to Harry, and getting sized for robes when Harry sees his tattoo. His matching tattoo.

Harry James Potter is pissed. This tattoo is supposed to be his, and special. Not the same as some random blonde kid.

He holds his arm close to himself and just sends the most angry glare at Draco, who finally turns to him, assuming the anger is because of his parents. Everyone knows Draco Malfoy after all. He glares back.

Anyways Draco asks him what his problem is, expecting to hear more remarks about his father, but instead Harry just glares and calls him a copycat.

With a sneer and a Black Family signature level of judgement, Draco gives him a once over and says, “A what? A copycat? There is NOTHING from you I’d copy.”

Harry responds with “Well clearly not or else you wouldn’t have the same exact tattoo on your arm, you sneak. Had to have every detail matching it? Couldn’t come up with anything original?”

Anyways they chat and Draco is like

holy fuck that’s my literal soulmate what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

“you’ve GOT to meet my parents they’re coming to pick me up from here”

“So sorry I forgot to introduce myself I’m Draco Lucius Malfoy, what’s your name?”

Oh Merlin my soulmate is THE Harry James Potter why is he dressed like a street urchin why doesn’t he know anything magical why is the Hogwarts Groundskeeper with him???

And Harry instantly becomes well connected with people who would advocate for him. He definitely doesn’t argue with the Sorting Hat and is perfectly fine with being in the same house as Draco, and Dumbles is in wayyyy over his head.

#harry potter imagine #harry potter thoughts #hp imagine #harry potter #harry potter rant #hp drabble #harry x draco #drarry #harry potter fandom #soulmate au #draco malfoy