#if harry had been like “okay having an adult would be nice” then teddy would never have met his father! fuck!

[greenerteacups]

in retrospect i knew deathly hallows was not going to be the book i wanted it to be when remus lupin, 37 year-old man and beloved friend of james potter, begs to abandon his pregnant wife and soon-arriving newborn to have fun cool adventures with his friend's kid in the woods

#and he's like 'oh it could be a werewolf it could be dangerous' SO YOU'RE LEAVING HER ALONE TO TAKE CARE OF IT?? #hitting and kicking and punching and biting. for real #as a teenager i read that scene and thought harry came across as mean. now i read it and i'm like GO HARDER HE NEEDS TO CRY #and it's like i get it he IS a marauder he IS avoidant he DOES have trust issues (understandable) #but i feel like that scene. lacks an understanding of how serious that is. and that like. he had zero qualms with it until harry shamed him #and like — he DIDN'T see the error of his ways. harry rejected him! #if harry had been like “okay having an adult would be nice” then teddy would never have met his father! fuck! #and idk i feel like the scene is not appreciating how heavy it is to Walk Out On Your Child #like oh okay. you are going to traumatize your infant son. bc you're scared he's going to have YOUR medical condition? fucker. #anyway the reason i have a problem with it from a writing pov (apart from character like even assuming it's a fine character move) #is because there's no plot reason to it. it's one of the last scenes we ever get with remus and it basically #sticks him and tonks in a box until it's time to kill them! #why in a book that's a million pages long do we never see most of the characters fighting this war?

[chudleycanonficfest]

Hide and Seek

Day 6, Story #1 is by @adenei

Title: Hide and Seek

Author: adenei

Pairing: Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley

Prompt: Babysitting

Rating: PG

TW: Mild Language

**********

“Don’t let them stay up too late,” Ginny reminds him as she opens the front door.

“And send us a Patronus if anything goes wrong. We’ll be here in an instant,” Hermione adds fretfully.

“Oi, ‘Mione, really? They’re not babies anymore!”

“Let’s go, or we’re going to miss our Portkey.”

Teddy laughs at the interaction. Of all the adults, it’s Harry who’s pressing them about tardiness. The foursome are headed on a weekend getaway, staying at the Delacours’ beachside cottage for three nights. James was shipped off to George and Angelina’s, while Rose opted to go to Percy and Audrey’s, so Teddy’s charges only include Albus, Hugo, and Lily.

“Everything’s going to be fine. I’ve got this! And if I don’t, I can think of at least five other Weasleys to call. Maybe even a Malfoy if I’m desperate.”

“That’s not funny, Lupin,” Ron warns as Ginny swats him upside the head.

“But if Scorpius does ask for Albus to go over for an afternoon, it’s fine!”

“Noted. Go enjoy your weekend!” 

Teddy half shoves them out the door this time as he shuts and locks it behind them. The kids are out back playing in the garden, so Teddy goes out to join them. He’s chuffed that Harry and Ginny trust him enough to watch Al and Lily for the weekend. Plus, Ron and Hermione added Hugo to the mix. Normally, they’d be shipped off to the Burrow to stay with Molly and Arthur, but since it’s only a long weekend, and the kids are ten and twelve now, Teddy Lupin, a recent Hogwarts graduate, has been bestowed the responsibility. 

He’s always been the mature older ‘sibling’—well, he counts himself as a sibling or cousin to all the Weasleys, but he’s not blood-related. Harry and Ginny half raised him, though, so he’s just as much a part of the family as any of the kids. Heck, maybe someday he’d officially be part of the family. 

No, it’s too early to be having those thoughts.

But there’s one person who makes him happier than anything to know he’s not related to the Weasleys by blood. Victoire, his best friend and girlfriend. As Teddy sits back and gets comfortable on a patio chair, he lets his mind wander to spring afternoons spent by the lake as he observes the kids playing on the muggle swingset Harry insisted on putting together years ago.

“Who knew a giant Muggle toy would get so much use?”

Teddy jumps at the sound of a voice he’s not expecting.

“Vic! What are you doing here? I mean, not that I’m complaining, but…”

She laughs as Teddy backtracks. The sound is music to his ears, soft and lyrical, and something he’ll never tire of. Making her laugh is something he’s striven to do ever since they were young. When she fell off her toy broom, he made his hair change colors at a rapid pace in an attempt to make her giggle, and then there was the time she broke up with her first boyfriend during her fourth year, when he’d used the Jelly Legs Jinx on the bloke’s legs while he walked over a patch of ice. Victoire’s laugh has always been the fuel that set his heart on fire.

“Well, you said you had to babysit this weekend, and I thought I might come over and help entertain my cousins,” she explains as she pulls up a chair next to him.

“Yeah, but the adults have only just left! You don’t think I can keep the kids alive on my own for more than an hour?”

“Of course, I do!” She slides her hand in his while waiting for a beat, “especially since James isn’t here.”

“Oh, I see how it is! James isn’t that bad.”

“No, he’s not. He just likes mischief. It’s a common Weasley trait.”

“And a Potter one, too, if I’m not mistaken. Harry and Ginny never stood a chance, especially after naming him after Harry’s dad and godfather.”

“True. When I have kids, they won’t be named after anyone. They deserve to have their own unique names.”

Teddy offers a sad smile at Victoire’s words. He’s named after his dad and granddad and doesn’t mind all that much, but he sees where Victoire is coming from, what with being named after a bloody war for Merlin’s sake.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have insisted on entering this world on the second of May, then. I mean, come on, Vic, of all the days!”

“Oh, sod off, Lupin,” she feigns seriousness while her eyes shine with mirth.

“I do agree with you, though. There’s enough people in this family who’re named after somebody else. I don’t mind it, but I do like the concept of original names. Though, I do think we’re a ways off from baby name talk, don’t you?”

He can’t help but lighten the mood. Teddy’s sure she means nothing by the comment and is just thinking out loud, but something still possesses him to weave it into their future. Perhaps it’s to gauge her thoughts in a casual manner?

“Probably, but it’s fun to talk about, isn’t it? I mean, it’s not like we’re actually picking names or anything.”

“Or determining how many kids we’re going to have…”

“Which would absolutely be—”

“Two!” they both say at the same time.

It’s really more of an inside joke, with Teddy witnessing firsthand the chaos that is the Potter household with three kids, and Victoire being the oldest of three. And yet, there’s some truth laced into their lighthearted conversation.

“See?” Victoire says as she leans in close, “This is why we’re good together.”

She plants a kiss on his cheek at the exact wrong moment because that’s when Hugo shouts,

“Victoire! Look, guys! Vic’s here!”

“Oops,” she whispers bashfully in his ears.

So far, they’ve managed to keep their relationship a secret from the family, but it looks like that’s about to end sooner rather than later. Of course, Harry and Ginny know, and Vic told Bill and Fleur when she came home at the end of term, but the cousins were still blissfully unaware… until now.

The three kids run over to Vic and Teddy, and Lily eyes them with curiosity. “Teddy, why did Vic just kiss you on the cheek?”

There are a multitude of different answers Teddy could choose from. ‘No reason’, ‘don’t worry about it’, ‘it’s nothing’, but instead he opts for, “Why do you think, Lils?”

Her eyes grow wider than her small face allows, and a wide O forms on her lips. “Are you two… together?” she whispers.

Teddy and Vic share a look. They both know the secret’s out now.

“Yeah, Lils, we are,” Teddy admits as he holds up the hand that’s still intertwined with Vic’s.

If there weren’t wards in place, Teddy’s sure that Lily’s shriek of delight could have been heard for miles. Albus and Hugo, on the other hand, seemed disinterested in the whole ordeal.

“Can we play hide and seek or something?” Albus asked once Lily was done reacting to the news.

Point in case.

“Wait, who else knows?” Hugo interrupts Albus’s question and bringing the focus back on Teddy and Vic.

“Of all the cousins? Only you three,” Vic answers.

“Only us?” Lily gasps.

“Not even James?” Albus eyes Teddy curiously.

“Not even James,” Teddy confirms. “Tell you what, we can go play hide and seek now, but what about an even better game?”

All three look on expectantly, waiting for Teddy’s proposition.

“What if we play, ‘let’s see how long it takes James to figure out Vic and I are dating’? We can all place bets, and I’ll take whoever guesses the closest date out for ice cream.”

Vic flashes him a knowing smile as the kids contemplate his offer.

“I’m in,” Lily says without thinking it through.

“Me too,” Hugo agrees.

“But that means we’ll have to keep it a secret,” Albus realizes.

He’s much more intuitive at eleven than Teddy ever dreamed of being.

“Yeah. Everyone else has to find out on their own, which means you can’t tell anyone.”

Lily and Hugo both nod in agreement, and after a bit more pondering, Albus agrees.

“Okay, but can we pick dates later? I want to play!”

Ted and Vic both laugh as Teddy offers to count to twenty. He closes his eyes and makes a big show of counting while Vic remains at his side.

“Nice one.”

“Thanks,” he responds in between shouting numbers. “I figure James is thick enough that we’ll get at least a couple more weeks out of him. He is Harry’s son, after all...”

Not only did they get a couple of weeks out of the deal, but the rest of the summer. It wasn’t until September first when James caught them snogging behind a pillar on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and ran to announce it to the world that the couple knew the jig was up. 

“Looks like I owe Al a trip to Fortescue’s next time I see him.”

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #teddy x victoire #tedoire

[all-things-fic]

Somewhere Only We Know

A/N - Hello, you lovely lot! Hope you are all keeping well in these utterly shit Covid times. Who would’ve thought that we would still be here in December?! Please see my offering for @goldenbluesuit​‘s Christmas Fic Challenge. Hope I’ve done a bit of justice with this piece.

I can remember Katie texting me telling me about the challenge, and I’ll admit I was given first dibs and now I’m absolutely shitting myself because I’ve seen all the brillaint entries so far and I’m not sure I really cut the mustard with this piece but I’m proud of myself for being able to put a solid 70% of this together in just one day (that one day being today).

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Katie has done a brilliant job and I know how grateful she is towards anyone who has joined the challenge or supported by reading/sharing etc.... I need to stop rambling... Okay, thank you for sticking with me as always and happy reading! .x

***

The last thing you remembered actually reading in the group chat was “make sure you have your wellies”. You were glad that you remembered that part at the very least.

Winds whipped around you as you buried your face further into your cream roll neck cable knit jumper, all but hidden underneath your tobacco borg teddy coat that someone had already likened to Macklemore.

Nothing like being back home with your closest and oldest friends.

Mud squelched under your feet as you walked in line with two of your oldest girl friends, eyes looking over the four males in front of you as they led the way over the grassy hills.

There had been zero planning on what today’s events would bring. It was quite clear that the seven of you just wanted to be reunited with the country air and wind bitten cheeks.

It was nice. How simple it was. On the surface at the very least. That was until you zoned in on the little things. 

Like his laugh. The same laugh that always carried somehow and it seemed like the wind was making it that much more prominent than usual today.

There was no denying, he had this glow about him. Even from the back of him. You felt silly for thinking it, but it was true. It was in the way he held himself as he attacked the grassy hills with his feet clad wellies and brown trousers.

Life had changed a lot in over a decade. Christ, had it been that long? You’d all gone from baby teenagers to fully fledged adults. The age range of your friendship differing slightly, the odd person here and there slightly older than a couple of people in the group.

Nonetheless, many of the experiences had been the same. The big job offers, and the even bigger promotions. The heartbreaks, regardless of their prominence or lack of, had been the felt the same. The flirtation between some of you sparked probably a bit more so now with a finesse that didn’t have you rolling your eyes but rather leaning into it. 

Four out of seven of you were single. Jack and Jonny were virtually married off, however neither of them were with their partners this year with both deciding to spend Christmas at home and New Years with their significant others. Alice was still loved up and going strong with her fella, as was Grace who you hadn’t heard a peep from as she constantly checked her phone to see when the person she was besotted with finally arrived up North thanks to West Midlands Trains pulling into Crewe. 

So that left Will, you and Harry. Harry who had  quite publicly made it known that he was single. Well, according to your Mum he had, in several interviews. Including the one that she had described as an ‘incredibly relaxing watch and nice background noise to my Sunday evening brew and ironing session’. 

That was a strange one for you, his honesty. In earlier years of friendship, he always seemed quite aloof. Like he was keeping his options open. Guarded in a way that frustrated at least 75% of the friendship group, in the nicest way possible. You knew that was a contradiction but any annoyance came from a good place. 

You remembered one night in 2014 when he wouldn’t quite give you a straight answer over tequila shots whether he was shagging someone or not. You also remember the way he’d been pulled away from you tactfully by Alice that night when she sensed how you were about to blow up at his lackadaisical attitude. 

The same had been felt in 2016. Not so much in 2018, but you weren’t single then so maybe you just didn’t care. 

2019 was significantly different though.

See the thing was, you knew him now. Like, knew knew him. 

Some would think it was a lapse of judgment, a reading that you would agree upon given what had happened two days prior if ever prodded about it publicly.

Others would vehemently disagree. Stating how long any sort of energy between the two of you had been bubbling for a number of years. 

Looking back you couldn’t even understand why you’d attended his show. You lived in Camden and it made sense, but that’s where the sense stopped. Even the ways he had reached out had been one of the most random messages you’d received from him

There was no context, just a simple ‘I’m playing the Electric Ballroom and there’s tickets waiting for you if you want ‘em.’

And the thing was, you loved that venue. The grungy-ness of it all. The way you had stuck to the floor while trying to dance along to the likes of The Hives and Kings of Leon when seeing them playing there, basking in your sweaty happiness. 

But the stickiness of the floor and sweatiness of the room didn’t compare to the stickiness and sweatiness you later found yourself partaking in as Harry took you from behind over the side of his couch. 

A shiver rolled through you at the thought, one that you would blame on the December bitter chill because it was a secret. One that neither of you had mentioned since it happened on Thursday night, or to be technically correct the early hours of Friday morning. 

He’d been good. Of course he had been.

He had that way about him that night that pulled you under a false sense of endeared security. From his dimpled smile to gleaming eyes. He was happy. 

And the way he had shone as he found you on the balcony had warmed you like nothing you had known in the longest time.

It caused you to forget about the worry that had laden you limbs as you turned up at 9.13pm to the wooden doors of the building, wondering how many songs he was in to the set as you convinced yourself he would start at 9.00pm.

As you’d been ushered over to a clear box window and uttered your name to a dorky looking man wearing a tracksuit pull over and watched him handover a white envelope through the circle hatch. 

You stood in the dark, next to two much younger girls who enjoyed the way his glances lingered over at their side. Eyes had found Gemma in the opposite corner of the balcony, her dancing and singing with some recognisable faces mainly more so because you had seen them on social media.

You, however, kept yourself to yourself. Until you were anchored in the tightest hug from Gemma that you had ever felt from her and swayed from side to side as she made it known how pleased she was to see you once the concert was over. 

That familiarity had been nice. The vibrancy of nostalgia consuming you in your entirety. 

Watching him work a room when he finally entered the after party was a sight to behold, in his navy blue pinstripe suit and yellow ‘I’m gonna die lonely’ t-shirt. 

He wasn’t. Gonna die lonely, that is. 

He glided so smoothly from one person to the next, spilling a drink down himself in the process you’d seen (and later felt when your hand clung to the fabric of his t-shirt as you kissed), making time for everyone in his own unique way.

Big eyes followed you over Gemma’s shoulder when he had finally found himself within your circle and hugged his sister once more that evening. They were hard to read but also openly filled with a glimmer of hope as he dropped his gaze to see what you were wearing.

And when he approached you, he hugged you in a way that managed to pull you into the darkened corner of the dingy space. Spinning your body to keep your face concealed from any prying eyes. 

He revealed to you how he didn’t think you were going to turn up, scanning you with his gaze as he spoke. You did the same, a bit taken aback by just how attractive you were finding him. He had always been handsome but the aura he gave off, made your fingers itch to have him closer to you. 

Words ran away from you that night as he begged and pleaded with you to tell him what your favourite song had been. Based on first impressions, which the show has been, then Canyon Moon and Watermelon Sugar had smothered you and given you no other option but to pick them.

If he were to ask you now you’d probably say To Be So Lonely, thanks to the drive home being longer than originally thought and said album being your choice of road trip music. 

Forget Driving Home For Christmas, nothing slapped more than one of your closest friends admitting to being an arrogant son of a bitch. 

After your chat, he mingled some more but Harry was always tactile and that night had been no different. He veered conversations with people you had never seen before to take place by the zone that you all occupied.

He actively kept his back against yours, allowing the faintest of touches and brushing of arms - sometimes hands too if he dropped them down heavily enough with his arms as he spoke - to entice and create a spark. 

You were kept late enough to miss the last tube. Battery dangerously low on your phone that you didn’t know if a transaction with Uber would be worth a try. 

Jumping into the same car as him had been easy. His soft and tired eyes findings yours in the cab as he leant his head back against the headrest in the back seat and let his lips tip upwards in an expression of tenderness that had you melting in your seat. 

“‘S been a while since we’ve both been a bit pissed in the back of a taxi,” he mused, pushing his fallen locks out of his eyes to ensure his view of you wasn’t obscured. “Come an’ cuddle me like you used to do when we went out a’ home and were worse for wear.”

Falling into his side was almost second nature, eyes closing as you let your forehead rest against his jawline and let his worn in cologne fill you senses and scatter your judgment.

You don’t even remember how you ended up kissing that night. A mixture of confessions about missing each other and praise of how good you both were in your own ways. The sound of his whispered, “are you coming home wi’me?” against your lips an offer too good for you to refuse as you sat pressed into his side and half in his lap. 

The giggles that night, around dramatic shushes as you tripped and shuffled from the car to his front door were almost haunting in your memory as he tried to chastise you around spluttered laughter about being respectful of his neighbours. 

Getting the key in the lock proved unchallenging -  one of the better analogies aligned to your memories and latter sexual endeavours - as you slipped into the house. He enjoyed watching the way you walked ahead of him into his home, not realising how much he needed that visual of seeing how well you fit in. 

While time seemed to slow in that moment, movements desperately sought the opposite. Hands gripped and clawed like their lives depended upon it. 

Looking back now, both he and you wished it hadn’t happened the way it did. Skirt lifted and over the side of his couch. Teeth clashing and hips knocking.

It had been every inch a drunken fumble. A first meeting slightly cheapened but wanted nonetheless. Only made even cheaper by the hush-hush concealing of it ever occurring. 

But a secret it was and a secret it would remain. 

And oh how you wished you had a pillow you could press you face into right now and scream, this time for an entirely different reason. Unlike that night. 

“Not seen a sign of any deer yet, mate,” you heard a voice break you out of your indulgence of recollecting past events. Harry was the worst at wanting to get a reaction. 

“Christ, have a bit of patience would yer?”

You smiled at the bickering, just like it always was as the River Dane could be heard in the distance somewhere as you walked. If you listened really close, that is. 

Lifting your eyes, your smile lingered as you watched Harry spin his body around and let his hands get lost in the massive pockets of his parka. He walked backwards holding your gaze softly with his eyes twinkling before he gently rolled them at the overreaction and impatience of your friends.

He seemed pleased that you’d enjoyed his teasing as you once again hid you smile into your jumper. 

You’d be alright.

***

You heard giggles and screams ahead of you as your friends stumbled in the dark and messed about as you got closer to the viaduct. This place or the people didn’t change, and at times while it filled you with a warm nostalgia, it could be heavily jarring.

A soft and lazy smile pulled at your lips as you felt his heavy forearm lightly tug you closer to him, his lips finding your hair. And then there was Harry. 

“Think we should go this way m’self,” Harry mumbled, the nudge of his hips against yours had you stumbling slightly in your heels away from the direction of your friends and somewhere completely different. 

“And why’s that?” You turned your face slightly, cheeks warm and flushed thanks to the mixture of alcoholic beverages; eyes glazed as they lifted up to look at him. 

“Cause you never would’ve let me when I was sixteen,” he admitted. 

“You didn’t ask.”

“‘M askin’ now.” 

With slow blinking eyes, you looked at his own unfocused vision. A soft shine to his skin, hair blowing gently against his forehead. The softest of smiles tilted at your lips.  

“On yer go,” he nudged you forward, this time more so with his crotch and his hands, which wrapped around your hips to help steer you. Harry was met with only a small amount of resistance from you as you split off from your friends and turned in the different direction. 

You bit back your laugh, dropping your head slightly as you felt your heels started to sink into the grass as you walked. Harry was level with you when you sunk down noticing the way you legs slightly gave way, a soft chuckle omitting from his throat as he asked, “You alrigh’?”

“I’m sinking in these bloody things,” you grumbled, pulling your heel from the grass and trying to place the sole of your shoe onto the ground beneath you first. 

“So much for no’ being able to take the country out o’ the girl. London’s changed yer, swear it.”

Shaking your head, you cut your eyes to give him a harsh stare for his wind up. His amused expression lit a fire in you like no other. He really wasn’t one to talk though, was he? 

“Gi’me your hand ‘ere,” he held his out to you, quickly cupping it when you handed it over and pulled it under his bent elbow. “Remind me again who’s idea this was, eh?”

He didn’t need reminding, he had been one of the keen instigators for the whole jaunt down Twemlow Viaduct. It usually was him, or Jack. The two of them often reminiscing on times they had both raided their parents' alcohol cupboards and managed to sneak out with some dusty bottle that held a liquor that tasted out of date and stale, and if not that then, cheap. 

“‘S still fucking freezing down ‘ere, in’it?” He asked, lifting his left hand up to his mouth and blowing against it to try and get some feeling back into his fingers.

“We’re so close to the river, I don’t know why you’d expect anything different?”

“Is this why everyone was always so insistent on necking anything with over 11% alcohol in it when we came down ‘ere as kids?”

“Probably,” you softly laughed. 

“‘S a bit different now though innit?”

“Oh, I’m not so sure,” you started to correct him, shrugging your hand out from under his elbow and reaching for your bag. Quickly fumbling with the clasp, you lifted up the quilted flap and managed to pull out the stainless steel hip flask.

Harry cackled a harsh laugh, his eyes crinkling as he slowly let his laughter die down and softly let his joy wash over his features. “Impressive. Gone all proper on me.”

“You know I haven’t,” you held his eyes watching as he nervously cupped at the back of his neck for a short while, a gentle bite down of his bottom lip, as you quickly uncapped the item and held it out to him. He looked like he needed the courage.  You continued, “We’re just a bit more refined, that and we earn a good living. Some more than others, and by some I mean you.” 

He held his hand up towards you with an amused grin at your comment. “You first, ‘s yours after all.” 

Lifting the item and knocking back your head, you swallowed the whiskey with a small grimace, before offering it to Harry once more. This time he accepted, his right hand making light work of taking the item from your hands and sipping at the contents.

His face wasn’t as contorted as your’s when he swallowed, a fan of the chosen beverage if needs must. “‘S the proper stuff, tha’ is,” he commented with a quick lick of his lips before continuing, “Come a long way from sneaking the bottles of dusty Blossom Hill from the back of the cupboard.”

“Don’t know about that,” you smiled, taking the item and pushing it back into your bag. “I’d still drink if, if it were on offer.”

“‘M sure Mum’s got a bottle or two going at home?”

“Is that your way of asking me to go home with you?” You paused. “Again.”

Harry remained silent at your words. Both you and he knew it was going to happen. A mixture of sparks and lovelorn, lingering glances was enough to make anyone both want to give up, while also giving a burning confidence usually unknown. 

Neither of you expected it would be you who started the conversation, however. 

“It is, ‘f it’s gonna work. ‘M not sure I could wait any longer t’be’onest wi’yer.“

Laughing, you reached up to push at his shoulder. He always knew exactly what to say, but no way was he going to make a laughing stock of the whole thing. “Oh, give over,” you spoke, harshly swallowing when he kept your hand against the thick cable knit black jumper he had on. “You’ve made it this far, thus far just fine.” 

“‘M not playin’,” he whispered, hand gently curling around your own and lifting it up to press against his face. His cheeks were warm underneath the cooler hands, despite the cold night whipping around you both and your mind quickly wondered if he was just as embarrassed for his lack of acknowledgment as you had been. “Homes nice, you’re nicer.”

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about it,” you let your soft voice get taken by the wind.

“An’ what gave you tha’ impression?”

He did. He gave you that impression. By not mentioning it. By treating you how he always did.

“You.”

“Me?” Harry responded, indignantly, blowing out a sigh that had his cheeks puffing out underneath your hand. “‘M not doing a very good job then am I? I can’t keep m’eyes off o’you. ‘S not my fault you don’t bloody notice ‘em.”

But you had noticed them. 

His eyes, gaze following your every move, near enough. Stupid little touches. Glances of approval. Not just now, but from years before. 

Treating you how he always did.

Oh, treating you how he always did.

Bringing your eyes back to his figure, you saw the way his gaze darted and nervousness dragged at his features. A frown began to set itself between his eyebrows from worry. 

“Changes everything.”

Running his tongue along his teeth, Harry pursed his lips. “Everythin’ has changed, changed a long time ago an’all.” 

You dropped your hand down, it now massaging against the back of his neck and shoulder as you felt the tension of his body radiating through his clothes. Under the dim moonlight and the odd spotlight that had been added to the viaduct with each passing year for safety, Harry exhumed everything anyone would want in a boyfriend. He was soft, and so bloody gorgeous. Not just because he was personification of an almost six foot tall string of handsomeness, but his character did the talking for him.

He knocked the door before he walked into a room, for example. Who really did that kind of thing anymore? 

But you could also still see the heartbreak that lingered, albeit not as strong as it once was, it was still there. And that was problematic and scary. To be on the receiving end of it. Not that you would hold it against him, because you had been him at one point too. At many points in fact. 

When the two of you had shagged, because let’s face it that is exactly what it had been, while a sense of familiarity in the person was prevalent it was definitely overruled by the desire to just hit a euphoric high that if hit right could not be topped. 

Familiar overruled in other aspects, and it wasn’t to be brushed away. But was familiarity a mask that would slip sooner rather than later? Was it the start and the end?

The both of you experienced similarities in your life that could not be matched by the friends in your friendship group. London had chewed you up and spat you out, ruthlessly so. While rewarding you with long hours but fat pay cheques, careers that catapulted you to new heights and enabled you to see parts of the world that two country kids (which in one way you were) could never have imagined. 

Sure Harry’s had been on a much, much larger scale - you would not ever deny that - but you no longer fit in. 

And neither did he. 

This was a place that only the two of you knew. A place where you watched those around you fall in love and have the time to do so. A place where your friend's happiness was created a lot easier than it wasn’t and allowed a sense of success to weave its way in, through the most unexpected of happenings.

Not a place where you found happiness in your work because there was less of a space for happiness to blossom elsewhere. Not really. Not like you; both of you. 

Understanding was vital. 

This had been a place you knew like the back of your hand. A place that had you feeling the earth beneath your feet, fresh air in your lungs and had at times made it so you found yourself sitting by a river and finding yourself feeling complete. 

Yet looking over at the almost 26 year old, that just wasn’t the case anymore. 

And for once you didn’t feel alone. 

The sound of the odd piece of cobbled pavement underneath Harry shoes, buried beneath overgrown grass and plants, broke you from your thoughts, as you watched him kick at the ground and scuff his shoes.

He sighed, head tilted back before he knocked it to the side and caught your eyes. A small scoffed laugh left his lips as he shook his head and dropped his gaze to his feet.

“‘S it fucked?”

You hummed, a small frown lacing your features.

“Fucked it, haven’t I? Fuckin’- idiot-“ he breathed out a noise as he clenched his teeth, one that wasn’t quite a growl but enough to let you know he was agitated. Only strengthened by how tight his jaw became. 

Before you could even think, the back of your hand gently brushed against the pulsing hinge of his jaw. Muscles taut as you tried to soothe him in a way that your mind was screaming was far too intimate.

You didn’t want him having any internal battle about right and wrong. Not when you had both taken the same steps to get here. 

“Thought it was just meant as a one time thing,” you admitted. “Like you needed it, and I needed it. Was what it needed to be at the time. Bit rough, bit sloppy-“

You cringed are the use of the word. Wanting the ground to swallow you in a weird fashion. You should be able to talk open and honestly with someone who you had known longer than hadn’t. 

“Rough?“ Harry swallowed audibly, his face fallen. “That’s not-“ 

His eyes held an emotion similar to sorrow at the mention of the word. “That’s not the impression I wanted to give you.” 

“We were both drunk, it happens.” 

“Not with me it doesn’t. Not when it’s me, wanting to be wi’you.”

“I mean I was into it if that helps anything?” 

“Were yer?”

You looked at him from the corner of your vision, watching his lips try to fight a smile as you rolled yours into your mouth to not give yourself away. You knew what you were trying to do by speaking those words aloud but you wished you hadn’t. Awkward breathy laughs were shared by the two of you as you held his eyes. 

“Was I?”

You hummed in agreement to answer his question, letting your smile dance along your lips now and watching as Harry’s dimples started to show. His expression was youthful, slightly smug. 

“Good t’know.”

***

Finishing saying your goodbyes to your friends and ignoring their suggestive expression because ‘Harry was stopping as an extra pair of hands’, you shut the heavy wooden door and reached up to close the deadbolt lock at the top. Shortly after, you let your feet drop as you stopped standing on your tiptoes and pressed your forehead against the door. 

The silence of the pub was always a strange one to you. A place that was usually thriving, whether it was just your friends, or your parents friends. When the lights were turned out, it was actually quite a lonely place. Regardless of growing up around this sort of industry your entire life and having parents as publicans nothing was more depressing than an empty bar, lifeless and nothing like it was intended.

A suggested lock-in from Jack, who managed to interrupt both yours and Harry’s conversation earlier had not been a bad shout after all. You knew it meant that you would have to deal with the fallout with it being Christmas Eve, but it wasn’t very often that you found yourself in the setting. 

Turning to move from the door, you almost jumped out of your skin when you heard the opening of a familiar Lily Allen song start to play over the speakers. 

Harry emerged from the corner of the pub that housed the jukebox, slowly rubbing his hands together before he wordlessly picked up the scattered pint glasses that had remained on one of the tables that had been missed by the staff on the evening shift. His eyes glanced over at you, as you stood with a hand to your chest.

This wicked smile and gleam washed over his face as he paused his movement. “Did I scare yer?”

“Do you not think it’s a bit loud?”

He wrinkled his nose at you, a soft shake of his head no, to answer your question. 

“‘S your fave innit?” He asked, head nudging to where the jukebox was now hidden.

With a small smile you nodded, “Prefer the Keane version in all honesty.”

“Don’t have it in the bloody jukebox though, d’yer? Can’t like it that much.”

Your smile deepened at his exclaim and how prominent his accent sounded as he spoke, the small clink of the glasses he was holding only heard if you really zoned in. 

“Where d’yer want these?” He asked, holding up the five pint glasses he had collected. “Behind t’bar?”

Humming, you nodded and watched as he weaved his way through the tables to you. You frowned as he got closer, not understanding why he hadn’t bypassed you completely.

Once he was close enough to you, you watched as he reached for what you knew to be your own glass of wine that was almost finished. 

“Fancy the rest of this or can it go too?”

Looking at him and down to the glass, you gently wrapped your hand around it and brought the lip to your mouth. You knocked the item back quickly, swallowing the rest of your wine, before handing over the now empty glass back to Harry.

“Good girl,” he joked, light laughter lacing each word. “Sit yourself down.”

Wearing an amused and quizzical expression, you let yourself sink down into the wooden chair. Resting your chin on your hand, you spun slightly in your seat to keep your eyes on Harry as he placed the glasses down and lifted the hatch so he could step behind the bar. 

With your free hand, you started to tap the worn beer coaster labelled with the Cheshire Brewhouse logo against the table. Part of you hated how Harry had a knack for anything, including knowing his way around a bar. 

He busied himself with collating the glasses once more as you let your eyes take in the surroundings you had known, loved and even grown out of. 

Your parent’s pub was cosy and friendly. A truly 

classic and quintessential British village pub, featuring open fires, bookcases found in the very far corner or the jukebox in the other, lots of old oak and a really pleasant garden with benches for the summat and heaters for the winter. You know the kind that had its regulars that had kids who had seen each other grow up.

The bar was the centre of the pubs house, with an extensive array of whiskies amongst many other delights. A nice range of local ales and a well-balanced, great quality list of wines on offer designed (which you would be taste testing if the service hadn’t decided to take a break) to complement the food menus designed daily by a team of chefs who all have a passion for great cooking using fresh, seasonal and local ingredients.

It looked as Christmassy as Christmas could get, with a real tree which was locally sourced from one of the many surrounding farms and traditionally decorated with golds and reds. Twinkly lights shone, not only on the trees but as part of the garland that was hung above the bar each year, much to the annoyance of your Dad and the delight of your Mum.

Slowly dragging your eyes back to the bar, you watched Harry as he poured you another glass of white wine and started to recap the bottle. He must’ve felt your eyes on him, his gaze meeting yours almost immediately. 

“Service is a bit slow,” you jibed, once you knew he was with you. “Going to ruin the reputation of a fine establishment.”

His chuckle was breathy in response, but warmed you through as he turned his back and pushed his tumbler glass up against the device at the bottom of the Glenfiddich distilled malt whiskey, not once but twice going for a double. 

“Helping yourself to the stock now, as well.” 

“‘M sure your Dad won’t mind,” he responded, twisting his body back around to reach for your own glass and place it onto a tray that sat along the bar top. “In fact he’d probably make a comment about how it’d put hairs on m’chest.”

You laughed, unrestrained, knowing just how right he had been with that comment. 

Over the otherside of the room, Harry smiled and shushed you as he walked closer, easily holding the tray with your drinks upon it. “Being a bit loud,” he taunted as he slid the tray down to the oak table.

“Oh, now you’re concerned about the noise.”

With his hand against the back of the chair which was currently housing your outstretched legs, you felt him start to wobble the seat to give you a warning. 

“Hang on,” you said, “Plenty of other chairs.”

“This one’s mine,” he responded.

Wanting to roll your eyes but deciding not to, you let your legs drop down and gave the seat back to Harry. Once he was comfortable and he’d taken your drink off the tray, he gestured with his right hand.

Not entirely focused, he had to do the ‘come hither’ motion a couple of times before you finally cottoned on. He was willing to let you put your legs on his lap instead, while he may have taken the seat it didn’t mean he wanted to take away your comfort.

No sooner had your legs been raised to rest against his tan washed velvet corduroy trousers, was he fiddling with the buckle of your stiletto sandals.

“Got mud everywhere,” you commented, wiggling your toes that were painted a festive red and inspecting the little dots of dirt that were splattered against your skin, as Harry dropped the first shoe to the floor and quickly worked on the second. “Dread to think what they smell like.”

“Smell alrigh’ from ‘ere,” he mused, smirk faint but glaring obvious in his tone of voice as he threw a quick and mischievous glance at you. As you elongated your foot against his thighs, the tips of your toes were just about able to press into his thick jumper to try and jab at him for his comment. 

Before you were able to put any sort of force behind your action, Harry’s hand clamped down around the top of your foot causing your eyes to snap up away from his hand and up to his eyes.

There he sat watching you, top two teeth pressed into his bottom lip keep his smile at bay. Releasing his lips slowly, his whispered threat left his throat, “I will tickle.”

You tried to fidget away but to no avail. With a whined laugh, you frowned as Harry goaded you by slowly raising his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

You had tried him. 

Truth be told you wanted to again.

If he wanted to.

Reaching for your wine, you took a hefty sip and let the silence swallow you both. Harry, who kept his hand on your foot and his fingers dancing gently against the top, let his head fall back awkwardly against the hardwood. His head dropped to the side taking in his surroundings and their familiarity. 

“Do you ever get tired of coming back?” 

You hummed, sure you had misheard due to the way the blood was rushing around your ears. He turned to look at you, all double chin and puffy cheeks.

“Of everything being the same, but different?”

His whispers captivated you, hushed confessions not quite meant for anyone else but his own mind yet spilling from him with such an ease that he did nothing to fight them. 

“I’ll admit, I come home for other people. Not for me.”

“People?”

“Mum, Dad,” you paused. “You.”

His smile deepened. His chin knocking down to his chest, his eyes looking up at you from underneath his curling hair from being caught in the moist winter evening just hours before.

“You can stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you did three nights ago.”

Harry breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring and his chest expanding. A lick of his lips, before his mouth dropped to sit slightly agape. 

“What if I don’t wan’to? What if I want t’look at yer like this all the time?”

You found yourself unable to respond, nose burying itself into your wine glass as you pressed your lips against the cool outside to try and hide your burning smile. 

His lips curled lightly, before he breathed a laugh once and gently shook your foot with his hand. “Eh? Come ‘ere-“

“Harry,” you breathed.

“C’mon, c’mere. ‘S room for more than just your feet.”

If it wasn’t for the creak of your chair as you slowly started to push yourself out of it, you wouldn’t have consciously been aware of how you were making your way to him. 

His body relaxed, somehow managing to become closer to horizontal than sitting upright in his seat, as he peered as you walking the short distance over to him. 

With his legs widened, he pressed his face into your side now that you were close enough. His nose inhaled the familiar scent of your perfume which was only faint now due to the other senses and scents it had mixed with throughout the evening.

Rolling his face out of your body, he knocked his head back and pressed his chin where his face had been. The face you showed him was worn with worry, an expression he did not want to meet.

“‘S wrong?”

His ask was lazy. Not wanting to dig deep and know. What if he didn’t like what he found? 

“We know how this is going to end.”

“Do we?” He prodded. His eyes moved over your features quickly before they partly disappeared to him, thanks to your curtain of hair which slowly fell down.

His hand reached up, desperately brushing it away and cupping at the back of your head as best as he could while he remained seated. 

“How’s that? Tell me.”

“Same, but different.” 

You knew you shouldn’t use his words, not in a way that could be considered against him, but they - in the most ambiguous of ways - described everything perfectly. 

“Not if I have my way.” 

His words were almost lost against your stomach as he pressed his face against you once more and wrapped his hands around you; sweaty, nervous palms pressing to the backs of your thighs. 

“Same, but better.”

Harry guided you down to his lap, his lips somehow managing to remain pressed into stomach, or your chest, or your clavicle, as your face became level with his. 

“Different, but better.” 

He kissed against your cheek slowly, nose nudging at your skin as he willed for you to relax against him. “I don’t know how you like it, like this,” he whispered in confession. “Show me?”

A puff of air left your lips as you turned to look at him with hooded eyes. His mouth was closer to yours than you originally thought, corners of lips brushing as you slightly pulled away. 

When your lips met, it was in the softest of pecks that trembled under your nerves. Both sets of eyes looking back at each other as you innocently engaged. 

If you were to take your eyes away from him in any way, you would notice those fluffy curls of his falling over his forehead and the lightest dusting of red blush making itself known against his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

He felt like a school boy, lost and clumsy. The kid who was once again flicking paper at you in science class just so he could pull a face at you over something your teacher was saying to get you to laugh. 

Mouths hovering over each other, your breathing mixed, as Harry nodded to you slightly. You pressed your lips to his once more, feeling the way he gradually opened up to you, warmed and softened underneath the puckering of your mouth against his. 

His hands, that slightly trembled, smoothed over your hips trying to pull your body so that it was more so flush against his. You moaned softly, your hands running over his jumper covered shoulders, fingers digging and pulling at the material just below the nape of his neck. 

The chair beneath you moved lightly against the floor, not quite a scrape but a dull drag. Neither of you broke the kiss, but his hands against you allowed fingers to dig in to hold you steady to him so if you were to fall from where you were sitting, he still had you. 

His lips slowed, moving to press against your cheeks again as he panted and his warmth breath bounced off your skin. “Think I got it,” he heaved. 

“Do you?”

Harry hummed his ‘yea’, before pressing his lips so tenderly to your chin and the underside of your jaw. He felt how you swallowed heavily, throat dry from the way your mouth hung open and your neck further exposed itself as you lolled your head back. 

You were falling further and further back, finding it hard to stay upright as he devoured you and made you weaker with each pulling kiss. His groans were needy, muffled and making your ache. While yours were silent and making his desperate to pull something from you. To build is confidence in that he was doing something right, you liked it this way too. 

Hands fumbled and dragged upwards at your skirt, faintly aware now how it was similar - if not the same one - to the garment you wore to his show. 

“Gonna take this off properly,” he mumbled, feeling the way your hips moved slightly from his hands to roll over him. 

“You don’t have to-“

“No?” 

Your voices were rushed as you spoke to each other, barely audible but loud enough all the same. His head was knocked back slightly as you hovered over him and you found yourself admiring his blissed out face even only in the lead up.

This was a sight that you hadn’t received last time, and if you had your way it was one you were going to greedily enjoy in all its glory.

Like watching the way his eyes closed and he softly grinned, the left side of his teeth started to show as the one side of his face reacted first while your hands blindly moved to lift up his jumper and the white tee he had on underneath, to allow you to find the button of his corduroys.

“What ya doing?”

“Nothing,” you mused. 

He pulled a face, the kind that down turned his lips, eyebrows raised and head slightly tilted to the side. The kind that had you smiling. 

“Not trying to get m’trousers around m’ankles for a second time within a week then?”

You giggled. “No.”

“Please do.”

A low moan left you as you pressed your forehead to his jaw and dropped your eyes. Your hands slowly started to pull at the brass button and pop it open before seeking out the zip thanks to his desperate plea, encouraging you to continue. 

Hands quickly sought out the waistband of the trousers and gently pulled at the item. From the way that you were sat, you knew there was no way you were doing to make them budge.

“Stand up fo’ me,” he mumbled, quickly helping you get off his lap so that he could make light work of his clothing and pull down his trousers and underwear. 

His bare bum made easy contact with the cushion leather beneath him, eyes carefully watching you as your hands moved to underneath your skirt. 

The fabric of your underwear slipped so easily down your legs, his eyes just about caught the sight of them as they pooled against your ankles and you kicked them away. 

Legs pressed together, you slowly untucked the v-necked blouse you had chosen and pulled it over your head. Wearing nothing but a fancy black bra, and a tight little skirt you hastily snatched for your wine and took a hefty gulp.

You could feel his eyes on you, a gruff groan catching in the back of his throat and when you finally turned your eyes from where they had been looking down at your heaving chest and how great this bra made your boobs look, causing him to move his hand down to start playing with himself. 

His name left your lips in a breathy gasp, causing you to look up quite surprised at the find of his right hand gently tugging at his hard length.

“Keepin’ me waitin’,” he groaned, his left hand sloppily reached for the back of the collar of his jumper and tee, pulling the item roughly over his head.

“Fuck sake,” he mumbled under his breath, agitated that he was unable to get both items of in one go.

“Smooth.”

Harry stared up at you with a playful squint, before he gently fell back and moved the chair as he did so, the dull scrape heard once more. 

And if you didn’t know he was flushed before, when you first kissed, you were definitely aware now. His eyes were blown out and hungry as they devoured you. Hair wildly haphazard before he let go of himself with a soft slap of his skin and harshly pushed his fingers through it.

“‘S it still a couple of quid for a strip of three,” his words brought you back to him. This smugness radiated off of him as he groaned and leaned forward to push his trousers down all of the way. Over his vans and socked feet, before he toed them off as well be harshly pulled at his white sport socks. 

You didn’t even need for him to explain what he meant, staying silent as you watched his hands tug at his corduroys from the floor and retrieve his wallet. As his fingers moved around to find a couple of quid, the jangle of the coins was taunting. 

One leg crossed over the other, you swayed and found yourself blushing when he looked up at you once he’d managed to find enough money and then some. With his wallet thrown on the table, he stood proudly from the seat and closed the short gap between your both.

Leaning forward he easily took your lips with his own before pulling away. With his face still close to yours he whispered, “Promise not to look at my arse.”

He didn’t hang around long enough for your reply, instead turning away and brazenly giving you all the time you would ever need to admire him, his fantastic bum and his hairy legs before he opted for a jog-walk type of thing, suddenly conscious that he was absolutely walking around naked from the waist down in a pub owned by your parents. 

While you waited you took a quick pull from his whiskey, needing the heftier burn for Dutch courage. Nervousness returned when you heard the endings of what you believed to be Harry whistling. 

“Machine ate all m’fuckin’ change,” he grumbled, regardless of the twinkle in his eye at the strip of overpriced condoms he had managed to score from the men’s bathroom. “‘S Durex. Business must be booming, your Dad’s definitely gone up in the world.” 

“Please don’t talk about my Dad.”

He smiled brightly before he reached for your face with one hand and pulled you towards him mumbling his ‘sorry’s’ against your lips as he gave you several kisses in quick succession. 

His other arm loosely wrapped around your back and pulled you with him as he walked backwards and slowly lowered himself back onto his previous seat. The chair creaked as you joined him, slipping into his lap and feeling the way he was smiling now.

Pulling away from your kiss, he quickly tore away one of the condoms allowing the others to fall without much care to the floor. Teeth took a hold of the foil-like packaging and he tore it not so elegantly with his eagerness.

With his cock nestled in the crease of his own thigh now, the heat radiating from it matched your own agonising yearning. Scooting back to give him space, you heard him groan as he gently rolled the condom down onto himself. Eyes looking up just in time to see him knocking his head back and breathing deeply through nose. The foil-like packaging was back in between his teeth once more as his hands were otherwise preoccupied.

Slowly your hand reached up to take it from his mouth, feeling some playful resistance as Harry continued to hold it in his teeth. His eyes were open and boyishly sincere, as you tugged at the item and he finally released it when you lightly laughed. 

“Gi’me a kiss.”

Obliging him, you leant forward and slotted your mouths together a lot easier than you had done at the start of the night. A heat built easily between the two of you, as Harry gave you his tongue and you felt the flex of his jaw under your hand as he worked your mouths together.

He was eager, his hands tightening on your waist before he growled when he understood he had to grab handfuls of skirt before he could cup your backside. But when his skin met yours and you ground down onto his lap, the groan that left him was the most animalistic sound imaginable. 

The frown your face fell into showed your desire to whimper, as he kept you atop him and marvelled in the way you writhed, both from satisfaction and keenness at the pressure of his cock against you. 

“Can I have you again?” He asked, the startings of sweaty hair being pushed off your face. His eyes peered at you, searching for his answer as you seemed to be able to do nothing but pant and look back at him yearningly. “Are you letting me?”

You dragged your fingers down his t-shirt covered torso and lifted it slightly just to see the quiver of his stomach as pulled you onto him once more. 

“Like this?” you voiced, meekly.

“‘F this is what you like then, yea’”, he breathed into your mouth, hands shifting your pliant body. “Is this what you want?”

You wordlessly nod, mouth falling open in a breathy gasp when he managed to move you so he sat so enticingly at your entrance. He was teasing both yourself and him, wanting to keep you both on the edge. 

Harry blinked a few times as he looked at you, and you revelled in the way he couldn’t seem to concentrate. His hands held your flesh tightly, fingertips dipping into the skin of your bum cheeks as he gently guided you down.

An unattractive and dull, quite strangled noise, left your throat as you let your forehead fall against his temple. Eyes falling down you see the cups of your bra fall slack, you felt his hands softly gliding over your shoulder blades and shoulders. 

He rid you of your bra, hands moving to your chest to squeeze your breasts. His jaw fell slack when you found yourself sitting snugly on his lap - on him - settled and already feeling spent.

This was so different compared to the last time; if not overwhelming so because of the way you both appeared to be so present. Each movement of your hips, and the way they rolled and grinded and dragged felt too much. So much so that you had become nothing more than a mess of short, quick breathing and blushing, sweaty cheeks. 

Slack-jaw, you were unable to find it in you to return Harry’s kisses, and his joyful, breathy chuckle seemed to lead you to believe he was fine with it. In fact he was happy to keep going as you were. 

Your movements were frantic, and despite the build up, not entirely driven by lust either. Harry continued to encourage you to move as you were; slow, grinding motions on his lap that caused the filthiest of groans and dirtiest of laughs from the two of you. Laughter that was only made stronger as the chair that held you both started to creak too. 

You couldn’t do much about it though other than to breathe into each other’s mouth, and rock your hips together with more fervour each time. 

“Yea’,” he breathed against your lips, left hand at the back of your head holding you to him, while his right rested just above your bum. “‘S better. That’s better.”

It was better. Better than last time. Better than anything before. 

And while it hadn’t been frantic before, it was now as your legs that were hanging down either side of the chair started to tremble and your toes started to dig into the worn carpet beneath them. Hips knocking and your clit dragging heavenly against his public bone, you grasped his name as you buried your face into his neck and dug your nails into his nape.

Harry hissed his approval which fell to a groan as your nails pushed up into his hair and lightly pulled as you sought leverage. There were so many things you were learning this time around and his penchant for liking his hair pulled from time to time, was one of those things. 

“God, ‘m gonna come soon,” he admitted, gruntly as he forced your hips down as he anchored his legs and widened his seating position. “Are you close?”

“Yeah,” you whined. “Yes. Like this-“

And as you pressed your face to his once more, he was everywhere. Soft but hard, loving but commanding. Smelled like clean washing detergent but of country air. Inviting and alluring, allowing you your lingering kisses between grounding breaths that became staccato in unison with the movement of your hips. 

You aren’t ashamed of the whines that escaped your throat as you squeezed down on his cock, praised by indecipherable works that left Harry but were nothing more to you than lips moving against your rough and dry ones. Word that made the burning feeling of your pending orgasm spread through your entire body, warming you and setting you alight.

It was long and deep, with your toes curling into the carpet they were pressed against now. Barely able to catch your breath, sucking in harshly and shaking. 

And when you came to, thoroughly exhausted, you noticed that he was waiting for your say so. That he could let go and enjoy the pleasure brought about by your shared labour. 

“Coming-“ was all the warning that you got and was enough to encourage you to watch him as he came, his face completely void of anything other than pure pleasure. Wrinkles and frowns fade, his mouth falling open with his pink lips glinting prettily under the dim Christmas lights around you.

His forehead gleamed with sweat as he wrapped his arms around you tightly and his hips bucked up one, two and three times for good measure. “Fuck me,” he heaved gruffly.

You were suddenly desperate to feel his lips on yours despite the way you both continued to fight to get your breath back, but settled for resting them against the skin of his cheek, which was hot to the touch. 

When you felt Harry start to go soft, you reluctantly pulled away and let him slip out of you. He wasn’t so keen to let you get too far, holding you just that bit higher than before with his hand cupping gently but firmly at your hip. “Where’d you think you’re going,” he hummed, eyes still closed as he continued to heavily inhale and exhale. 

You softly smiled, taking in his soft face and responded by nuzzling close to him again. 

Nowhere. Somewhere. Anywhere with him.

A place where only the two of you knew, like the back of your hand. The same way you knew each other. Now and possibly forever.

#gbsxmaschallenge #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles x you #harry x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles christmas #harry christmas

[salemcat09]

Hey! I saw your request post so,,, maybe a Harry x Ginny oneshot? Like, after the war when they’re young, before they have kids. Just some nice domesticity, maybe living together in a flat or something? Idk it’s up to you!

Hello tysm for the request! I kind of made this into three little one-shots I hope that's okay. I am so so sorry this took so long and its so short I have zero attention span to finish anything, in fact the first part was sitting in my drafts for months. Anyway hope you enjoy 😅

(Read below the cut)

Harry slid the silver key into the lock. With a wordless glance back at his eagerly smiling girlfriend, he grinned and turned the key. A slight click of and he carefully pushed the door open.

Picking up one of the boxes he had placed down, Harry stepped in. He took a deep breath and looked around as Ginny swiftly followed. They'd finally managed to escape Molly's protective wrath and bought their first apartment. It was temporary of course and only rented. They planned to move into Grimmauld Place eventually, but in the end, decided it was best to get a little place close by in London while they renovated.

It was small, very small, especially in comparison to Grimmauld Place or Godrics Hollow, but it was home. Scratch that, it was *their* home. Just a tiny two-bedroom flat with an open-plan kitchen/living room and one bathroom. On the outskirts of the London CBD. They only needed one bedroom, even a studio would suffice but they allowed the extra space for when Harry's godchild Teddy came to stay.

Harry let out a low whistle as he stepped further in, running his hand along the kitchen counter. Ginny exhaled and nodded, mimicking Harry's whistle in agreement. "Wow" she laughed.

"Wow." He acknowledged, turning to her again. "We have a house."

"No shit Haz" his ginger girlfriendsnapped back sarcastically. "But yeah....shit, I feel like an adult" she chuckled again and shook her head.

"We are adults" Harry stated all though he found it hard to believe himself. He was only 21, Ginny 20, but considering he expected to die at age 17 he felt ancient thinking about it. Because of the war, he had only graduated a year ago along with Ginny and that certainly didn't help in feeling adult. His parents had already settled down, married, had a child and we're fighting a war at his age. Yet he could hardly cook a meal. Granted, he did do the war part but he tried to forget about that. And he could cook a meal because of the cooking for the Dursleys but he was forgetting that skill already anyway.

Ginny decided to start unpacking, and opened the box labeled 'living room'. Harry smiled at them, admiring how perfect his life was for a moment before unpacking kitchen things. He vowed never to take this life for granted.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

Cooking had always been a secret talent of Ginny's. Charlie had taught her at a young age how to properly cook a meal and all the best ways to make a recipe. However, they never told anyone about this, worried she'd be ridiculed in some way for it (as she was for most things).

After moving in with Harry though, it appeared she had no choice but to reveal the secret seeing as Harry despised the idea of anything along the lines of cooking and cleaning after spending so many years being forced to do it but his aunt and uncle. It was probably a blessing in disguise if they were being honest, Harry wasn't great with making dishes anyway baking was much more his style.

Harry had been shocked the first time Ginny offered to make a homecooked dinner in their new home rather than order the usual take-out. He didn't know what to expect but it certainly wasn't a gourmet-style (and quality) lasagna thats for sure.

The initial shock of his girlfriend's amazing cook wore off quickly as she turned to him and profusely apologised for how bad it likely was. He stared at her in pure disbelief “Ginny this is- I usually hate lasagna but holy merlin this is good!”

“Really? 'Cause I messed up the spices in the sauce and the pasta turned out soggy and they didn't have the right-” She was cut off by Harry putting a finger to her lips

“Gin. It's good. It's amazing actually why didn't you tell me you were such an amazing cook?!”

She laughed flipped two fingers at him, deciding to finally try her own cooking. Taking a bite her eyes lit up.

“Mm you were right this is brilliant,” they said with their mouth full. Eyes widening she realized what she'd said “Oh God I'm turning into you!” she stared at Harry in mock disgust. “We've been married far too long”

“Ginny we're not married” Harry replied bursting into laughter

“Oh. Well hurry up and propose then!”

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Harry smiled fondly as he watched his wife twirling around the kitchen. She said she was going to do some "spring cleaning" but as always ended up getting distracted. She was humming a tune to herself, blissfully unaware of the set of eyes watching her.

Harry laughed and tried to cover it up with a fake cough, snapping Ginny out of her bubble. They turned to him, cheeks red with embarrassment but a grin on her face.

“Was I singing that out loud?” She cringed

Her boyfriend stifled a laugh, “Kind of, sorry to ruin the mood carry on”

Sticking out her tongue at him, they reached out a hand. Harry promptly stood and grabbed her hand, spinning her around in the process. He dipped her (and the mop she'd been dancing with) and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

They playfully shoved him away, laughing at his attempt at romance and turned around to carry on "cleaning".

#hinny #hp fanfiction #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #i wrote she/they ginny idky but theres that #ONCE AGAIN IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT #and i still cant tag for the life of me.

[beetlegoose01]

it’s all so simple (one shot)

a short fic about Charlie and Albus bonding.

~~~~~~

I don't want to get married. I don't want to have children. I'm happy the way I am. And if you love me, you'll be happy for me too.

Charlie had recited that mantra for as long as he could remember. He told himself in the mirror before he was ready to tell his family. He told his favorite dragon Topaz as he was petting her scaly muzzle.

“There isn’t anything wrong with me!” He bellowed into a puddle, staring at his reflection stubbornly. 

Topaz nudged him, tired of him venting to himself. He would laugh, run a hand through his messy red hair, and continue reminding himself that what he was feeling was normal. Wasn’t he?

His mum had persisted the most. Asking him every time he visited when was he ever going to find a nice young woman to settle down with. Eventually, he had told her firmly that the answer was never. He had fancied men for as long as he could remember. She, and the rest of the family had been accepting. He hadn't expected any less. But then the questions changed. When was he going to find a nice young man to marry and perhaps adopt children with.

At one point, he thought he had found someone. Alexander. A fellow dragon keeper. But he wanted things that Charlie couldn't give him. So it ended like that. Amicably, of course. No pressure involved, thank Merlin. But it still stung, like a burn from a dragon's breath. Except with less blood. And he recovered a lot faster and didn't need to cover it with a tattoo.

When he was a younger man, he had doubts about himself. When all of his siblings married and started to have kids of their own, the anxiety of being the odd one out definitely took a toll on him. Was there something wrong with him?

But as the years passed, those feelings subsided. He was happy where he was with his career. He loved his family. He loved his nieces and nephews and being the 'cool uncle' showing off his newest burns and scars-- usually overdramatizing the tale. And as time went on, finally his family stopped asking. That made his visits less stressful. He didn’t have to worry about them pestering him. 

The summer visits to the Burrow were always a rare treat. Sometimes he couldn't come for various work reasons. But when he did, he was always excited. One particular afternoon, all of the kids decided to play a game of Quidditch in the garden. The adults were responsible for making sure none of them were injured and taking care of the little ones. Charlie relaxed from the back, enjoying the sunshine and counting each child to make sure they were included. Lily, Vic, Hugo, Dom, and Roxanne were one team, while James, Rose, Freddie, Louis, Molly Jr and Teddy were another.

"Hey!" Hugo shouted. "They have one more teammate!" He pointed at James' team.

Charlie frowned. He thought there were enough kids for sure. Yes, Lucy was only four and couldn't play but Albus...

"Come on, Al, you're on the blue team." James groaned, already frustrated from the heat and his little brother.

"I don't want to be on the blue team!' Albus said stubbornly. "I don't wanna be on any team. I hate Quidditch."

Several of the other children looked outraged. No Weasley hated Quidditch. It was in their blood.

"Don't be silly, Albus." Victoire said, looking at the younger boy kindly. "You don't mean that. Come on, we can be Beaters together." She offered him the bat, which he scowled and huffed away from.

"No, I don't want to." Albus shook his head furiously.

"He only hates it because he's bad at it." James mumbled under his breath.

"James!" Ginny snapped.

Albus, filled with rage, tossed the bat aside as he stormed away. It snapped in half from the impact. Lily and Hugo gasped in horror.

"Albus Severus, you're too old to be breaking things!" Harry rubbed his nose tiredly. "Come back here this instant!"

"I'll get him," Charlie offered, nodding at Ginny. "Don't worry Gin."

"Thanks Char." Ginny murmured.

Luckily it wasn't too hard to find a ten year old who seemed to think hiding behind a row of bushes and gnomes was a good hiding place. His heart dropped when he heard tiny sobs from behind the bush.

"Hey bud," Charlie awkwardly brushed aside the prickly bushes and sat beside the boy, who's eyes were puffy and red. He made sure his voice was quiet, approachable. Last thing he wanted was to be as stoic and apathetic as Percy.

"Go away. I don't want to play Quidditch." Albus said shakily. He turned to face Charlie, eyes shining with tears. He seemed to hesitate when he saw his favorite uncle.

"You don't have to, that's not why I'm here." Charlie assured him. "Just wanted to have a chat. Everything okay?"

Albus sniffed, shaking his head.

"Sorry, dumb question. Do you wanna talk about it?"

Albus was an open book, especially to Charlie, who had grown fonder and protective of the little Potter. He wasn't like his siblings or cousins. He was quiet, exceptionally bright but very timid.

"I'm not like them," He whispered, biting his lip. "I'm bad at everything."

Charlie snorted. "Really? The boy who nursed a wounded bowtruckle back to health at age eight is 'bad at everything'? Sorry if I find that hard to believe."

"But I'm not good at Quidditch."

"Quidditch isn't everything." Charlie said, summoning a handkerchief, which Al took gratefully.

"Still, I'm different." Albus said glumly. "They think I'm weird."

"Yes, you are. And that's what makes you so wonderful." Albus didn't look convinced, so he continued. "You know, you're a lot like me."

Al scoffed. "I don't play Quidditch though. You're brilliant, I've seen you play and I know you were Gryffindor captain. Mum told me."

Charlie nudged him softly. "I'm touched, mate. But no, what I mean is I was quiet too. I loved the outdoors, never really fit in with other kids my age. And that's okay."

"But you're so...cool."

"You are too! Well, maybe one day you'll be as cool as me. Though, don't aim for the impossible. Those aren't mutually exclusive."

Albus laughed lightly, which Charlie considered a win. But there was something in his eye that didn't seem right.

"Alright, Al?"

Albus fiddled with pieces of grass uncomfortably. He looked desperate to say something, but whatever was troubling him held him back.

"Is that why you never married?" He asked finally. Then he turned pink, mortified at how blunt that sounded. "I mean- not like you - I'm sorry I didn't mean to be rude."

Charlie chuckled, shaking his head. "S' alright, I'm not offended. To answer your question, er, no."

"I realize how horrible that sounded the second it came out." Albus said, looking down. "I'm really sorry."

"The simple answer is, despite my ruggedly handsome good looks and my charming personality, I chose not to marry." He explained, grinning. "I just didn't want to. I've dated several blokes-"

"Blokes?" Albus' eyes lit up, a moment that was so quick, anyone who wasn't Charles Weasley could have missed it.

"Heh, you bet." He ruffled Al's curls. "I dated, and I found out on my own I'm happy where I am. Just like you aren't forced to play Quidditch, I'm not forced to get married. Of course those two are completely different things but my point still stands. I love my family, my friends and career."

"And...that's okay?"

"Sure is. Why wouldn't it be?"

Albus seems satisfied with that answer. "I might not marry either." He said firmly.

"Eh?"

"When you get married, you become boring." Al explained as if it was obvious. "You're cool, and you have the best job on the planet. So...I think I'll be like you and stay single."

"Well, you're only ten-"

"I might date though." He said hastily. "Pretty girls, maybe. But I don't think I'm ready for that sort of commitment." He folded his hands, surprisingly mature.

"Again, you're only ten."

Albus shrugged, grinning cheekily. "Just kidding."

Charlie couldn't help but laugh. "We'll see. Don't worry too much though. Really you should wait until you know for sure. So...do you wanna play something? Just the two of us."

"Not Quidditch?"

"Nope. Whatever you want to play."

"Wizard Chess!" He looked up eagerly. "Please?"

Charlie nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You're on."

And the remainder of the evening, Uncle and nephew played chess until their hearts were content.

#asexual character #fanfic #charlie weasley #asexual charlie weasley #gay charlie weasley #albus potter #next gen fic #harry potter next gen #charles weasley #albus severus potter #slice of life

[lumos-solemn]

Al's Dilemma

Summary : Albus's two best friends cannot stop bickering and he is frustrated.

**********************************************

It was a nice Summer Sunday and everyone has decided to get together in the Burrow. Harry and Ron were settled on the couch discussing about their missions and latest Quidditch news and all. Ginny and Hermione were across them, whispering and giggling on some piece of matter they just read on Prophet. They were in their own world when Albus came in with an annoyed face and dropped himself on the couch putting his Quidditch things on the floor.

The trio and Ginny looked up at him and noticed there's something off with him. Usually, no matter what is the matter, after a game of Quidditch, Albus cheers up and today it seemed even Quidditch is not helping.

"What happened Big Man?",Ron asked. "Yeah, Did James say anything?",Harry enquired. Apparently James had a great deal of teasing his younger brother and have fun.

"No..!!He didn't do anything and even if he does, I am not gonna give a damn-", "Al, Language!!",Ginny warned.

"Yeah..!Sorry Mum..!!",Albus replied just like how Harry would say when Ginny restricts him or warns him. "Its- It's not James..!! It's just that I Don't feel like going to Hogwarts anymore..!!"

The four suddenly looked concerned at his words. It was true that Albus was not as excited as his other children when it came to attend Hogwarts, but that was because of the Slytherin-gryffindor problem and it is way past gone and This is going to be his 5th year and there's no way he wishes not to go back there. Harry kind of remembered his own 4th year summer after the Triwizard Tournament and all the dramas when he felt the same for some seconds.

"What's the matter son? I am sure we can help whatever it is..!!",Harry spoke in an assuring manner.

"There's no way any of you can help..!!I am sure.",He spoke airily.

"Just tell us what is the matter! Maybe we can help..!!You know!",Hermione said with a smile.

"Huhh...!!Its about Scorpius and Rose..!",He sighed.

It was as if he dropped a bomb as all the 4 of them widened their eyes. They knew that Scorpius, Rose and Albus is just like how Ron, Hermione and Harry were in their Hogwarts year. They were, in a word, inseparable. And it confused them what in the name of Merlin had happened that even made Albus decide not to go to Hogwarts.

"What happened with them..?",Ron asked feeling protective of his little girl.

"Nothing happened Uncle Ron..!But its just.. they are always fighting. On same matter or the other. I mean, they were good till 3rd year, Normal, I will say. But now..!!They are always bickering at each other and I feel so trapped. I mean, I can't take one person's side when they fight. Both are my best friends. How on Earth am I supposed to choose one? I don't think I will be able to go back and suffer anymore..!!",Albus sounded truly worried and pissed but Harry couldn't hold back his grin and when he looked sideways to see Ron, He was having a horrified expression and that's it, Harry broke off laughing.

"It's not Funny, Harry...!!",Ron spoke clearing understanding what's in his mind.

Albus was confused and pissed, "What's even funny..??This is NOT FUNNY..!!!You guys are not helping..!!",He almost yelled.

"Okay..!!I am sorry..!!I mean, we are sorry. You go on..!!"

"It seems I can't do anything. I don't understand where are they going at..!! I am done with them. I can't let them eat my brains like this..!!"

Harry was sure he heard Ginny stifling a laugh and through the corner of his eyes, he could see Hermione turning red. He smirked, "Al, I Clearly understand what you are going through..!!",He said emphasising the words giving a sideway glance at Ron who snorted.

"Oh. Are you? I don't think so Dad..!!You don't know how it feels. IT IS SO FRUSTRATING."

"No Son, I do know. I do know how it feels when your best friends fight like that..!!",He smirked. "Your beloved Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione..!!",He spoke as Albus raised an eyebrow at him.

Albus widened his eyes as he looked at his God parents whose ears were turning red at this. "You both used to fight?", He asked in disbelief. He had heard stories of his Dad's Hogwarts year and he was sure no one told them about this.

"More than you can Imagine..!!",Harry chuckled.

"But then How did you-", Albus widened his eyes as realisation hit him, "Aaahh...!!Does that mean....-"

"Maybe or Maybe not..!!",Harry replied shrugging, "Just because Ron and Hermione got together after they fought like that when they were young doesn't mean everyone does..!!It differs..",Harry spoke as-a-matter-of-factly.

But Albus was convinced the other way, "No Dad..!!No..I had doubt. Even James told me the other day that they seemed too much into each other. Teddy also seemed to think that way..!!",He spoke more to himself than to others. "Oh dear Merlin, Dad..!!How did I not see this coming..?I was too occupied by their fights that I didn't see those little things they do for each other. I mean, Scorp always look out for Rose even when they are fighting. And..And when we sit for breakfast, Sometimes Rose joins her housemates than to sit with us and He makes a big deal out of that. Sometimes even fight with her for that. And when last year, Rose got injured after Quidditch and ended up in Hospital wing, He didn't let me be in peace continuosly asking me to go and visit her. Merlin..!!This..This is so exciting....!!!!!",Albus was literally jumping with joy and the adults couldn't help but smile and think of their own days.

"Never in my life, I thought A Malfoy will be a part of my family..!!",Ron exclaimed irritated as the other 3 chuckled. "But I am glad Scorpius is not like his father. He is a good boy..!!", He spoke remembering the last time he saw the boy.

"They are all growing up..!!",Hermione exclaimed.

"But I doubt they know it yet. I am sure Scorpius should at least give me some hints taking that Rose is my cousin. They think they hate each other. I will have to bear them till they realise this, I think..!!",Albus seemed like more speaking to himself than sharing his concern with others.

"At least, You won't have to bear that in the evening since Rose has to retire to her house room.",Harry spoke sarcastically looking at Ron and Hermione.

"Its even worse Dad..!! Scorpius needs to fight, especially if he is frustrated. And Rose is the only one who stands up to him and shoot back. So, if Rose is not there, he tries to annoy me so that I get angry and fight him..Huff...I don't know when they are going to realise things and behave like grown-ups.",He shook his head.

"If Rose has inherited her father's genes, then don't worry son, You will have to bear this for too long...!!",Ginny grinned at Ron who scoffed at her.

"How am I going to survive the next 3 years, I have no idea..!!",Albus spoke looking at his Dad hoping for some ideas.

And Harry seemed to understand as he replied with a smirk playing on his lips,"Well, It would not have been this difficult if Scorp had a sister..!!You know?",He winked at Ginny with a playful smile and everyone laughed. After all, Harry indeed knew how his son was feeling right now.

#harry potter #harry potter memes #ron weasley #harry potter fanfiction #harmione #harry #harry potter marauders #harry x ginny #romione #hermione granger #hinny fanfic #hinny headcanon #hinny #hinny romione #hogwarts #ginny potter #albus potter #scorpius malfoy #scorpius x rose #rose weasley

[micheleblack]

Pumpkin Juice!

James stepped out of the Floo into the living room of his childhood home. It was good to be home. Halloween was a special day for the Potter family, who gathered together every year to both celebrate but also commiserate. James took his place at the dinner table. It appeared that he was the last one to arrive. Al was sat next to Scorpius across from him, Lily and his dad were having a discussion to his right, and he could hear his mum in the kitchen.

His suspicions were confirmed when Ginny walked into the room. “James! So nice to see you. It’s been what, two months? Three? Too busy to visit your mum now?” Ginny teased. She summoned three glasses from the cabinet and they floated down in front of Albus, Scorpius, and James. “Now what does everyone want to drink?”

“Pumpkin Juice.”

“Pumpkin Juice.”

“Pumpkin Ju—“

“Stop!” Lily shouted. “Whatever you do, James, don’t finish that word.” Her face was suddenly pale, like she had seen a ghost.

“Merlin, Lil. What is it now?” James shot back, already frustrated with his sister and her odd habits. “All I was going to say was ‘Pumpkin Ju—‘” James attempted to say, but this time the word cut short on its own. He opened his mouth to try again. No sound at all came from his mouth.

“Lily, no hexing your brother,” Harry calmly scolded.

“But, Dad! He was going to say it again!”

Normally James would enjoy watching his sister and father argue, but seeing as how it was delaying the return of his voice he instead glared daggers at them both.

“I don’t see what the fuss is all about, but you can’t just hex people. Your mum asked for drink orders and he was just saying, ‘Pumpkin Ju’”—a shimmering Protego appeared as Lily fired her silencing charm at Harry and it ricocheted off, knocking one of Al’s school pictures off the wall—“You may be of age, young lady, but I will still ground you. No broom for a month!”

“Will everyone just stop trying to say You-Know-What.” Lily pleaded.

At this point, Ginny stepped in before her family started dueling over drink orders. “Will you both put your wands down? This is a family dinner, not a meeting of the DA”—James glared at his mum but remained silent, not by choice—“Lily, dear. Why don’t you explain things so that everyone understands? Then we can move past this.”

“I think it’s safe now, but you can’t say ‘Pumpkin Juice’ three times in a row or he’ll come. It’s one of those things you just don’t do. Especially not on Halloween, of all nights. The veil between our world and the spirit world is too thin. Rose and I were watching a Muggle documentary on the subject and it was scary.”

“Okay,” Harry spoke up, “while that sounds like a bunch of Divination nonsen—“

Ginny cleared her throat.

“What I mean is while that sounds... unlikely, I think we all can be adults here and respect your request.” Harry’s eyes flicked to Ginny, assessing if she approved of his speech. He smiled. “Now, if you would please apologize to your brother and remove the spell, we can get back to our night.”

“Fine,” she said, reluctantly, as she drew her wand and pointed it at James. “Finite Incantatem.”

James felt the magic free his vocal cords and he smiled back at Lily. “Pumpkin Juice! Pumpkin Juice! Pumpkin Juice!” he shouted triumphantly, laughing as fear ignited in her eyes. She held her wand at the ready, head sweeping in all directions, clearly anticipating a sudden ambush.

Everyone waited. But when nothing happened after a solid minute had passed, Lily spoke up. “You know what? Now that I think about it, I think it was ‘Beetlejuice,’ not ‘Pumpkin Juice.’ My bad.”

“Oh no you don’t,” James argued. “You won’t get out of this that easily. You hexed me. There are witnesses. I want justice”—thump—“What was that?” James scrambled to draw his wand. “I swear, Lil, if this is one of your little tricks.”

“Me?! You are the one that has no respect for the occult!” She put on her fake-James voice, “Look at me, I’m James Potter. Quidditch player extraordinaire, and I’m going to invite a dangerous demon into my family home for a laugh.”

“Hello?” came a voice from the other room. Six wands appeared at the ready.

“Ladies first,” James said to Lily.

Lily stood from her chair, clearly gathering her courage before she turned to face the direction the voice came from. “Spirit of the Underworld! Be gone from this house! You will regret it if you attempt to enter—“

Suddenly Teddy’s head appeared around the doorframe. He eyed Lily curiously. “Am I interrupting something? I can leave.”

“Teddy!” Harry exclaimed in a cheerful voice. “You made it! Come in, stay. We were just telling ghost stories.” He gave a chuckle and the rest of the room joined in.

Teddy headed over to James, who threw himself into Teddy’s arms. “Someone missed me,” he whispered into James’s hair. They shared a silent moment together. “I know I said I wouldn’t be able to make it, babe, but my schedule cleared up suddenly.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Pumpkin,” James whispered back.

____

altober Day 31: PUMPKIN JUICE!

Happy Halloween! Day 31 rounds out altober - WeakRevolution ending strong with Beetle- I mean Pumpkin juice.

@altobers-blog @clemandben @eleonorapoe

#altober #altober2020 #day 31 #pumpkin juice #bettlejuice #James Sirius Potter #lily luna potter #Albus Severus Potter #scorpius malfoy #Harry Potter #ginny weasley #ginny weasley-potter #ginny potter #harry potter halloween #happy halloween #jeddy #jeddy fic #jeddy fanfic #James Sirius #teddy x james #jamesXteddy #teddy/james #teddy lupin #hp fanfic #hp next gen #HP Next Generation #next gen hp #Harry Potter fan fic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter next generation

[twoidiotwriters1]

Christmas, 1985 (WITT One-Shots)

A/N: I thought it’d be nice to show a bit of Lupin fluff -Danny

Words: 1,590 

Series’ Masterlist

Remus Lupin used to think his twenty-year-old self would live a quiet life.  A lonely one, but happy nonetheless. He had no idea he would end up chasing after a five-year-old girl on Christmas morning.

"Mel!" He ran through the trees holding the little girl's hat. "Come back!"

The only reply he got was the child's cackles as she ran around the forest, probably running after a squirrel. Emily had trusted Remus with the little girl only because he'd assured her that he could handle it. It was clear that it had been a lie, with every passing year Mel seemed to gain more and more energy.

He heard a soft thud and rush over to the sound. Mel had fallen face-first next to a tree, probably tripped on its roots.

"Oh, dear..." He picked her up right away and examined her face, she looked a bit disoriented, like she couldn't believe what had just happened. Remus frowned. "I told you not to run, Mel."

"But there was a bunny!" Mel's eyes widened in excitement. "A white one, uncle Lu!"

She had lots of trouble pronouncing 'Remus', so she usually called him Lu. He didn't mind it.

"Well, of course," Remus's arms held her firmly as he carried her back to the house. "This is a forest. They live here. Now let the poor thing have a peaceful morning."

"But it's Christmas!"

"Exactly," Remus poked her side playfully. "You're a strange little thing. I never knew a kid that would rather go out and chase bunnies when she could be opening her presents in a warm room."

Mel giggled as a reply, wrapping her arms around his neck and happily letting him take her back to the house. Once there, Emily welcomed them with a warm plate of cookies and hot chocolate.

"What happened to you, you little devil?" Emily frowned in amusement.

"Alice tried to chase after a bunny but her legs are too small," Remus said, then smiled awkwardly. "Sorry. I tried to stop her but she's way too fast for a toddler."

"Tell me about it," Emily raised a brow. "Let's go wash your hands, Mely..."

The woman tried to grab the girl's hand but Mel ran back to Remus and hugged his leg tightly.

"I want my uncle Lu to help me!"

Emily crossed her arms and frowned.

"Beg your pardon?"

Mel smiled apologetically and rephrased her demand.

"Uncle Lu, can you help me?"

"Gladly," Remus grinned, picking her up once more.

"You're spoiling that child, Moony!" Emily yelled as he took Mel to the sink.

He laughed. "Well, she's the only niece I'll ever have, I think I'm allowed to spoil her a bit."

"What's a spoil?" Mel asked as he scrubbed her palms.

"It means that I love you lots," Said Remus, kissing the top of her head.

Mel scrunched up her nose and giggled again, squirming away from his grasp as soon as she was done washing her hands. They sat around the table, Emily had to put a few cushions on Mel's chair so she could reach her plate.

"Would you like to open your presents after breakfast?"

Mel nodded,  stuffing her mouth with cookies.

"Ha' you open' you's?" She asked with her mouth full.

"Mel, don't be messy," Emily replied, cleaning her daughter's face. "No, I haven't. I was waiting for you two."

Remus stared at the two guests with a strange feeling creeping up his chest. Emily was pretty much the only family he had left, and he still couldn't believe that she wanted him to take part in Mel's life. Sure, he was her godfather, but it didn't mean he needed to be around. Still, Emily trusted him enough to be there during birthdays and holidays. That was more than he could've asked.

"Everything okay?" Emily inquired, nudging his leg.

"Hmm? Oh! Yes, I'm okay," He smiled. "I'll do the dishes, you take her to the living room."

"Noooo," Mel pouted. "I want you to see!"

"I'll see it in a moment," He replied, starting to pile up the dishes so he could take them.

"But I want you to see me!" She insisted.

"I'll do the dishes, you take her," Emily smirked, standing up beside him.

"Okay," Remus said, intrigued by the girl's choices.

Mel got up and grabbed his hand, dragging him back to the living room. Five minutes later they were seated on the rug, and the girl had several presents on her lap, ready to dig through them. There was a neatly wrapped present that had the initials A.D. on them, and Remus assumed that had to be from Dumbledore.

Emily sat next to the girl and helped her unwrap most of her presents, when they got to the one with the initials, she frowned.

"Is it from Dumbledore?" Remus asked.

"I don't know," She examined the wrapping. "Doesn't have a card, but it must be."

"Let me see!" The little girl said excitedly.

Emily handed her the package and Mel ripped the paper apart. Inside there was a small jumper, it looked slightly worn out. When Mel noticed it was a piece of clothing she lost interest right away and continued to open more presents, however, Emily picked it up as if it were made of silk.

"What is it?" Remus asked.

"This jumper... it was Matthew's favourite when he was little– I saw a picture..." Emily picked up the card again and read the initials. "It's from Aberforth, it's gotta be."

Remus raised his eyebrows and stared at the jumper. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it was quite surprising to get something from Aberforth himself, after all the years he'd spent avoiding the family. He'd only met Mel once, a day after her birth. He wondered if maybe Dumbledore had something to do with this.

Mel wasn't faced about it, she went through her presents and played all day with her mother and her uncle, although she continued to demand his attention more than Emily's. He was quite shocked about this but didn't comment on it until Emily brought it up once Mel was asleep on her bed.

"You must be feeling like quite the celebrity," She said. "You can tell she's become attached to you, I hope she doesn't suffer once we go back to Privet Drive."

"She's fond of me?" Remus asked shock.

It was a silly question, but he really couldn't understand why a toddler would find him interesting. Let alone one that was so energetic and sociable. In his opinion, he was too quiet and reserved, and yet, Mel would revolve around him with adoration.

"Well of course she's fond of you!" Emily replied. "She adores you, and she loves your house– She's quite fond of nature, you see..."

"I'll miss you two," Remus admitted after a moment. "The house gets awfully quiet when she's not here."

"Oh well, you know you're always welcome to visit anytime, it's not like we have anything else to do," Emily replied with irony.

"Dunno... I don't think I'm ready to see Harry," He confessed.

Emily tensed at the mention, but she nodded in understanding.

"He's a lovely boy. Small, looks a lot like his father... but you already knew that."

"Mel and he still haven't met?"

"I don't let her leave the house. She's too young, you know..." Emily's face darkened. "I'm scared she'll have one of those bursts of magic kids her age usually have, and I don't want the other children to hurt her."

"You have your reasons," Remus admitted. "But perhaps if Harry and Mel meet..."

"What?" Emily huffed. "Listen, if they decide to be friends I won't stop them, but I won't push them together..." She shook her head. "It's hard. I wish I had a way to figure this out, I wish I had all the right answers, but I don't know how I'll feel if I ever see them in the same room, I don't know how I'll react."  

A sound of light footsteps caught their attention, both adults turned to look at the hall and found Mel's tiny figure approaching. She had a sleepy expression, and she was dragging her teddy bear.

"What's the matter, love?" Emily asked, immediately standing up.

"I had a nightmare," Mel's soft voice replied.

"Probably from all the food you had," The woman sighed. "I told you not to eat all those cookies..."

"I'll take her to bed," Remus stood up.

Emily turned to look at him and tried to refuse, but he shook his head.

"You've had a long day, I can take her."

Without replying, Mel stretched out her arms towards Remus, silently asking him to carry her. Remus chuckled and obliged, once she was safely on his arms, he looked at his friend.

"It's okay," He assured her, "go to sleep."

Emily stared at them lovingly for a moment before nodding. Remus walked back to the room where Mel usually stay whenever they were visiting, and put her to bed.

"D'you want me to wait for you to fall asleep again?"

Mel nodded and yawned, already half-gone. She reached out and blindly looked for something until she came in contact with his hand. The little girl wrapped her chubby, little fingers around his thumb and squeezed, a small smile spreading across her face.

Remus missed his friends dearly, he would constantly think of them, and he would constantly feel miserable about it, still, whenever Mel was around, he couldn't help but feel somehow lucky.

Taglist.

@dee123ksha​ @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere​ @t-rexs-world

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #hp hidden moments #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

[undead-notunreasonable]

So I remember you mentioned that you were bullied at school? So was I and I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently. What is it that happened to you then? Just curious- dw if you don’t wanna say

This is gonna be long... I’m pretty open with what happened to me when I was at school! So, I guess I was dealt the worst hand: ginger, skinny, Deaf. The problem is growing up, I always had a group of friends & would lose them, and honestly that happened to me recently, so I thought it was because of me when in reality it’s because people don’t get that if you’re deaf, your needs & worldview are SO much more different to that of an abled person & abled bodied people just don’t get it.

Primary school: I was part of the ‘popular’ crowd for quite some time & I never felt any different & I thought these group of girls were going to be my best friends forever. As we go older, things started to change, I was being included less & not being invited to much. Parents would tell their kids to not hang around the disabled kid. Literal grown adults. They even would constantly ask my Mum if she was feeding me or if I was ill because I was so small. My poor Mum. One time I stayed round a friends house for a sleepover & bare in mind we’re little kids we’re like 7? I had a teddy bear that I wouldn’t go ANYWHERE without so of course I brought it to the party. One girl spat her gum into my hair. Another hid my hearing aids. Another hid my teddy bear. They didn’t get in trouble but the Mum whose home it was, told me that I hid it & was playing up. Following morning, it was hot as hell so we had a water fight before our parents came to pick us up, but I couldn’t join it because I couldn’t get my hearing aids wet. Though, I did aim the running hose that everyone was using at one of the girls & she burst into tears, I stopped but the others continued. The Mum yet again blamed me. She told my Mum & my Mum was like “No, she wouldn’t have done that if someone said to stop. And she wouldn’t have put gum in her hair, hidden her bear, or hid her hearing aids.” Eventually they got older & they just outed me. Until I met another new girl who was SO tall & people were mean to her about her height, so I became her friend, and we became great friends! Until another new girl came in who was my friend but she didn’t like me much even though I didn’t do anything wrong. She convinced the tall one to abandon me just as we moved onto secondary school. Secondary school: We had like an introductory week at this school where we met all the other kids so we could at least know someone to hang out with. I was lucky, there was a girl I attended gymnastics with & so I spent the day with her but this one teacher put me with another girl who is a little person & the reason she kept putting me & her together was because “Well you both look similar & you’re disabled, so you’ll get on great.” which is SO fucking wrong. We tried to get on with each other but we just didn’t gel. We exchanged hi’s every so often but we later drifted. I managed to get back with the girl from gymnastics but she wasn’t in my class. I didn’t mind, I was looking forward to studying at a big school & I had friends in another class so it’s fine. Eventually the tall girl from primary & I became friends because the girl she went off with kicked her out of their friendship group & we stayed friends for 7 years. But, this was when Harry Potter movies were slowly coming towards their end (I think they’d released their 4th movie?) and so.. of course... being ginger... meant all the boys started calling me Weasley & Ginger Nut. One boy, used to pass me notes & honestly, I didn’t think it was bullying because I thought I’d actually made a friend in class because I get on well with guys, so I would pass insults back. It only later became bullying when that guy told his friends what he’d call me, they’d start throwing stuff at me when the teacher wasn’t looking. I tried to report it but the teacher didn’t care, told me to ignore it. Boys kept harassing me & so I took it to the vice principal. It happened SO often, literally every day for MONTHS no matter how many letters of apologies or detentions etc, that one day I went to her again for help & she just went “Holly, I’m too busy, deal with it yourself.” A new drama teacher came in and she saw that our class was pretty wild and she couldn’t figure out who was causing it. She asked me to take note in classes of everyone who got listed on detention boards & bring it back to her. Deaf people take things LITERALLY and so I LITERALLY wrote down their names as their names went on board. People started to notice & started cornering me & yelling in my face asking me why I was writing their names down. The teacher at the time in that building caught wind of it & asked me calmly why I was doing it. “Mrs Edwards asked me to.” was all I could stay & then later the Drama teacher explained that she meant mentally take note & that she was so sorry for any harm she’d caused. But this didn’t make me a popular person at all. Valentines were always filled with fake ones & pranks. People fake asking me out, even a friend gave me a card that was meant to be from my crush but it was made up. What didn’t help was that I was a big fan of the Twilight movies. Someone spread a rumour near prom that I was the head of Prom committee & that I was making it Twilight themed & this spread like wildfire. People would yell at me on the way to classes & spit at me “No one’s gonna fucking go to Prom if it’s TWILIGHT fucking themed!! You piece of fucking shit!!!” and I’d get messaged on my Facebook & MSM all night about how I’ve ruined everyones prom. I’d yell “Look at the fucking planners list that’s literally everywhere. I’m not even on it. I’m not even going.” and I really didn’t want to go, I wanted to stay in, in my pyjamas because I was so upset. One bully even cornered me before science class & got into my face, just screaming “You fucking ginger emo cunt! No one will ever fucking love you because you’re ginger & deaf!” and tried to shut us all out. I was in a rage & I managed to push open the door enough to kick him so hard in the shin & keep kicking. He never said a bad word to me again. But all my friends were going to prom & I wanted to go with them. So, I did. (And I wowed everyone there, all the bullies couldn’t believe it was me. I had my hair in a curled low bun, smoky eyeshadow, a black velvet bodiced dress, red jewelled choker round my throat, red silk skirt & arrived in an vintage car. It was vampy, it was gothy, but I looked good for the time. I even kissed my crush that night!) but a year down the line & all my girl friends said they didn’t want to be friends with me anymore because I just didn’t do anything. I was a tomboy, I wasn’t into shopping & getting nails done or clubbing. But they started doing things without me & stopped inviting me, stopped even considering me, so I plucked up the courage to ask why, they said I didn’t do anything, I said “Yeah, not the girly stuff but I would’ve loved to have gone to the movies & gone for dinner with you” and my best friend of 7 years said “I never even liked you anyway.” So I had no friends once more. College: I wasn’t so much bullied in college, other than you had you popular people & your dorky people but the friends I’d made of friends invited me to house parties & eventually down the years (what...5?) I found out between that time that they’d had a group chat on Whatsapp that I wasn’t a part of because it was a sex bet group. They would plot & wager who would convince me into bed first because I was the hot friend. I’m.. not hot. I’m okay. But still. They’d had a big bet on me. I found out & I was livid. I yelled at them & they told me I was being childish about it. So I broke away. I kept a few that I knew weren’t on the chat close. I introduced an old school friend to them & well... he was dating four of them, sleeping with them, then telling them he had to be somewhere else but was sleeping with someone else of the quartet. This all got out & EVERYONE fell apart. I felt so guilty because I’d introduced him but someone assured it wasn’t my fault. Adulthood: Then this year, I lost them all because I yelled at one guy who kept treating me like SHIT & I’d told him to back off. Everyone yelled at me, called me childish, and took his side. People who love calling out toxic & abusive behaviour, telling each other to not talk to someone because of this or that. That’s childish. He and I are working things about but it’ll never be the same. The only friend I had left really upset me when we both discussed about going to this little holiday hut I’d found & I got all excited. She knew I’d fallen out with my group of friends so I said “I don’t have anyone I can invite that can join us” and then she said “I know a few from uni who can come” and then booked it but... didn’t book it for me at all. She said “I can’t wait to go next year with my best friends, it’s gonna be so nice to spend a weekend with them” so I broke things off with her. Like, I found the place, we agreed to go together, we got excited, and then... you just dropped me.  So all in all, yeah I’ve been bullied. I don’t have any physical friends anymore, I just have internet friends & I suppose I’m not built for people. I have a few internet friends though, so I’m not entirely alone. But I don’t date for the same reasons, also because of what that one bully said & all the fake Valentines. I’m sorry what happened to you is playing on your mind but honestly, it’s really for the best for you to try & move forward, yes, the memories will be there, but its YOU who decides how you go about your life, how YOU look after yourself, not the past. You are who you are, and you’re wonderful, I’m sure. Except if you’re a terf or a racist but that’s something else.

[maraudersandlily20]

This prompt is oddly specific and also not, but it's a brain-worm I haven't been able to get rid of--Tonks giving Harry a tattoo.

Teddy really liked playing airplanes. When Harry was over, it was all Teddy would talk about. He watched tv shows, he read muggle books, and he colored pictures that his grandmother had printed out. Harry would watch him in the yard, pretending to be different airplanes for hours. He knew the names, their speed abilities, and even their recognizable emblems. It was rather endearing.

On a hot summers day, while Teddy imitated airplane noises, Harry was sitting against a tree, his eyes partly closed. It was a lovely day and Andy had been desperate for Teddy to get his wiggles out, as she called them. So, Draco and Andy stayed and made dinner and Harry was left with the young one. 

He was six now, growing taller by the day. Harry would always tell him that he wasn’t allowed to grow anymore, which made Teddy squeal with laughter. He looked a lot like Remus when he smiled. It made Harry nostalgic.

Teddy would ask about his parents on occasion. He didn’t have any memory of them, other than feelings. So, when he got curious, he asked. They were always silly, ridiculous things, like what did Remus eat on his sandwich or did Tonks know how to whistle. But Harry tried to answer seriously for every question. He remembered how he had been so curious about his parents and their lives but hadn’t been given access to that until he was much older. 

However, in an odd way, Teddy didn’t really consider Remus and Tonks his parents. He didn’t call them mum or dad, and no one else spoke of them with those titles. He had grandma Andy, uncle Harry and uncle Draco, and a plethora of other adults who acted as makeshift guardians. He knew that his parents were his parents, but naming them by their titles of parenting never seemed to stick to Teddy. So, he called them Remus and Tonks, like everyone else. 

Teddy raced over to Harry and collapsed onto his lap, laughing. Harry gathered him into his arms and covered his face with kisses, proclaiming that he had finally shot down the mighty plane in the sky. They settled quietly, Teddy playing gently with Harry’s fingers, flicking them up and down.

“Harry?” He said, his voice bright.

“Yes love?”

“Did Remus like airplanes?’

Harry thought for a moment. “You know, I’m sure he did. He never got to ride in one though.”

“Did Tonks?”

“Maybe, you’ll have to ask grandma Andy.”

Teddy hummed in acknowledgement before starting anew with questions. “Did Remus like painting? Because I like painting a lot.”

“No, he wasn’t very good at art. But he was good at reading. He read almost every book you could ever think of! He was very smart. Your uncle Sirius was good at painting. He liked painting a lot.”

Teddy knew about Sirius, a bit, but his experience with the older Black man was limited. He knew he was Remus’ special friend, but that he had died before Teddy was born. Teddy liked looking at pictures of him, saying he thought he looked nice. 

“Maybe uncle Sirius gave me the ability to paint,” Teddy said, as if coming to a solid conclusion.

Harry laughed. “Yeah, maybe. What else do you want to know? About Remus and Tonks?”

“Did Tonks like soda?”

“They did. They loved sweets of all kinds. Sometimes, grandma Andy would get so mad at them because of all the sweets they hid under their bed.”

Teddy squealed. “I do that!”

“You do?” Harry exclaimed. “Well, then you must be punished.” His tickled his godson, laughing as Teddy tried to squirm away from him. He finally broke free, but he was smiling widely. 

Teddy stood before him, moving between his legs and squishing Harry’s cheeks between his chubby little hands. “Did Tonks like being able to change into a boy?”

It was a question that Harry always approached with caution. He knew that Tonks’ preference on gender was fluid at times, liking to change pronouns on occasion. Teddy had been understanding of the whole thing, but Harry never wanted to say anything wrong.

“I think they did. Tonks sometimes felt like their body didn’t fit them right. And when that happened, they presented as a boy, like you.” He poked Teddy’s stomach. “But sometimes, they liked looking like a girl. Or, on occasion, they didn’t like being either. They were lucky to get to choose, huh?”

Teddy patted Harry’s cheeks, eyes squinted in concentration. “Do you think Tonks would be mad at me because I only like being a boy?”

Harry felt the surprise on his face. “Uh... Well, no. You know, Tonks never really got mad at anyone, except for Remus. Tonks always said that everyone should feel free to be who they are, whatever they are. So, I don’t think Tonks would be mad that you only liked being a boy. If being a boy makes you happy, then that’s all they would want.”

The little boy nodded, as if the question had been worrying him for some time. “That’s good. I want Tonks to like me.”

“Tonks loved you a lot, little man. No matter what you looked like, they loved you. Okay?”

Teddy nodded. 

“Did Remus give good hugs, like you and uncle Draco?”

Harry smiled at the sudden turn. “He did. He gave big bear hugs, and sometimes he would squeeze so hard that if felt like you couldn’t breathe.”

“Did he give good presents? Grandma Andy said that Tonks was always really happy with the presents he gave them.”

Harry laughed. The questions that children came up with always surprised him. “He did. He and uncle Sirius gave me some of my favorite books that I own. He liked giving people chocolate, just like Grandma Andy did. And he often gave Tonks flowers or sweaters. Tonks loved it. So yeah, he did give good presents.”

“Did Tonks ever give you presents?” Teddy pressed, squishing Harry’s cheeks hard together.

“They did. Do you want to see?”

The boy nodded emphatically as Harry gently pushed him back. With swift fingers, he pulled his shirt from where it was tucked to reveal a small tattoo. It was a picture of a Willow Tree and it waved back and forth on his skin, as if moved by some breeze. There were moments when little birds would fly about the branches before settling. It was beautiful.

He remembered Tonk’s laughter as they pressed the needle against his skin. “You know, when I gave Remus his tattoo, he cried like a baby.” Harry snorted. 

“In my defense,” Remus piped up from the corner where he sat reading a massive novel. “it wasn’t my idea to get the tattoo. I never understand muggles’ incessant need to inflict pain upon themselves. 

“You have a tattoo?” Harry asked. 

“A moon,” Tonks chirped.

“Tonks thinks they’re very funny. It moves through the entire lunar cycle, and is in fact beautiful. It’s on my right shoulder, and it hurt almost as bad as shifting.”

“Come now, ripping your body apart must hurt worse,” Tonks countered, to which Remus just raised his eyebrow. 

“Why tattoos?” Harry asked them, drawing their attention back.

Tonks shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think I like the idea of adding something permanent to yourself. I was able to shift and contort my features however I wanted. But tattoos are something that you can’t shift away. They stay no matter what I look like. To have that feeling of permanence on my skin makes me feel a little more connected to myself.”

Harry understood that. It was partly why he had decided to get a tattoo in the first place. He wanted a reminded to himself that he was alive. He would spend countless hours trapped in his own head, but if he had something on his skin, something to look at and rely on that wouldn’t ever change, maybe he’d feel a little bit less lost.

“Why a willow tree?” The question came from Remus, but he was still looking down at his book. 

Harry shrugged, drumming his fingers against his bare chest. “I feel like the whomping willow at Hogwarts has seen, first hand, much of my growing up experiences. I figured it was a good homage to everything I’ve learned.”

Tonk smiled, wiping some of the excess ink away. “And, anyway, I didn’t tat the actual willow on you. I tweaked it a bit, made it more... whimsical. You don’t need the spikiness of the willow.”

“I don’t mind,” Harry said. “I like the feeling of permanence, especially something like a tree. It’ll refuse to die until it’s forced. Like me.” They laughed and Harry couldn’t help the light feeling that spread over his chest. “Besides, next time I’ll probably get something cheesy, like a snitch or a lighting bolt.”

“Or a dragon,” Tonks offered.

“Or a pair of antlers?”

They spent the remainder of time imagining new tattoos and where they would go. They laughed until their stomachs hurt and the willow tree was finished. Harry felt it was a symbol of peace and promise. He loved it.

Teddy’s fingers traced the branches of the tree, eyes wide in mesmerization. “Tonks gave you this?” he asked, his voice soft.

“They did.”

“They were good at drawing. But on skin.” Harry nodded as Teddy looked up for confirmation. “I want to be good at drawing like that.”

“If you practice, maybe you can.”

“Grandma Andy would let me?”

This made Harry pause. “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe. If you really wanted to. Grandma Andy wants you to be happy.”

Teddy returned to his seat on Harry’s lap, pulling his godfathers arms around him. “I can’t wait to get pictures on my skin,” he stated, sighing in contentment at the idea.

“Oh yeah?” said Harry with a laugh. “What picture on your skin would you get first?”

The little boy grinned up at Harry, looking so much like his father that it almost hurt, and said proudly, “An airplane!” A bark of laughter left Harry’s mouth at the answer and he held the little boy even closer. 

#prompt #prompts #my writing #remus lupin #harry potter #andromeda tonks #tonks

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #332

i’m even more tired than before to try and think up song lyrics, i’m pasting from Word and then fucking off to bed lmao.

What was the last video message you received on your phone? I think it was a clip of Doris (Sara's beardie) eating and just being her perfect self? Was your last birthday cake homemade or store bought? Store-bought. One thing you miss about middle school? Shit, nothing. Middle school was the worst. Do you have any shirts signed by famous people? No. Have you ever entered an art competition? Yes. Would you ever pierce yourself? No. I am very much about having a professional do your body mods/art. Plus, I have tremors in my hands. Do you live in a safe neighbourhood? Supposedly. We haven't lived here nearly long enough to know. What is the last thing you did that shocked someone? /shrug Do you often find yourself questioning your future? Only always. Have you ever been for a ride in the back of a truck? Yeah. Do you like your license photo? I hate my permit picture. Are you into superheroes? Who’s your favorite? Not very, but I like 'em enough. I always say my favorite is Deadpool, but I know he's technically an anti-hero, but whatever. If you don't include him, uhhhh... maybe Spiderman. Have you started watching any new TV shows recently? No. Have you ever been able pet a normally wild animal, like a tiger or dolphin? No. :( At least, not to my recollection. Have you ever eaten snow? Yeah. There's actually a winter treat 'round here that you make with snow and sugar called snow cream. Good stuff. What is the messiest area in your home? Right now, the spare room/my wanna-be "office." What’s your favorite computer game genre? Still horror, like video games. Do you have any exes your parents never liked? No. Have you received financial help from your parents in the past 5 years? I'm completely financially dependent on them still. Are you a fast or a slow eater? I eat like, stupid fast, but without being messy. People *cough*Mom*cough* will absolutely point it out, but I seriously can't help it. Making a conscious effort to eat slow feels way too weird. What was the last thing you purchased from a small local business? I don't know. Is there anyone in your family/household whom you frequently argue with? No. Have you ever used chewing tobacco? Ew, no. Tell me what's on your mind? I've been considering yet again reaching out to some tattoo parlors and asking if they're open to hiring someone to handle the front desk and take care of business besides actually performing piercing and tattooing, given my tremors. My group therapy has kinda been encouraging me to use the possibility for social exposure, and besides, I'm very comfortable in the environment and just general aura of tat parlors. I'm sure I'd have to answer the phone, handle money, and obviously talk to costumers, but I know and accept that. I've been at such a stagnant point with my social anxiety in particular that I have to start pushing back harder, and doing this I feel would be one of the most relaxed, social job positions I can hopefully handle. I don't dare to even try this though until I get vaccinated to protect my immunocompromised mom. Writing this all out has actually been pretty encouraging about this idea... Do you wish you never dated someone you dated? Yeah, Tyler. It was such a "I'm lonely and he was nice in high school, so we'll try it" situation. I got nothing from it. Are you scared of growing old alone? Pretty badly. What are you listening to right now? I'm listening to/semi-watching John Wolfe play the remaster of Resident Evil 2. What breed was the last dog you saw? He was a German shepherd. Would you ever go swimming during a thunderstorm? No. Any time a thunderstorm was brewing and I was in the pool, I'd always get out. What is the next concert you will attend? Mom and I plan to see Ozzy when/if he reschedules his tour after he had to cancel with his Parkinson's diagnosis. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy. :/ What's the highest science class you have taken? I don't know, actually. What makes you squeal like a school girl? No shame, seeing Mark and Amy do something cute together actually does this, lmao. What’s your favorite symbol? (i.e. the pentagram, the cross, etc.) Do fictional ones count? Because in that case, the Halo of the Sun from the Silent Hill franchise. I'm getting it tattooed somewhere at some point, I'm thinking the left side of my neck. I'm either gonna fashion it in a way where it looks branded on or carved into me. Have you ever been on anti depressants? For all of my pre-teen, teen, and some of my adult life. Apparently, I've only had one truly educated psychiatrist out of no less than a dozen I'd seen, because he fixed me right up. He taught me that those who suffer from bipolarity should avoid anti-depressants; they ramp up your bipolar symptoms. Instead, mood stabilizers are favorable. And what do you know, after I was prescribed a stabilizer and a catalyst for that medication, my depression decreased dramatically and became handleable. Have you ever starved yourself? Kinda. What’s the stupidest name you’ve ever given a pet? I had a guinea pig named Harry Potter. For no particular reason lmao. I'm not even a Harry Potter fan. Do you have nice legs? God no. Do you like fedoras? Okay so I know I am in the strong minority, but I actually do, haha. What is your favorite food group? Carbs. @_@ Have you ever got told that you should be a model? No, but one of the most flattering indirect compliments I've ever gotten was being mistaken for one. Jason's phone wallpaper was one of my favorite pictures of myself with my first snake, and someone asked him if I was a model. ;v;' What song is in a language you don’t speak, but you love it anyway? "Donaukinder" by Rammstein is one of my faves. Who’s a villain you sympathize with and why? SOBS Darkiplier bc his origins are so damn tragic and unfair. What book do you think should be directed as a film? Was The Giver ever made into one? I don't remember that book well, but I do recall it being absolutely beautiful. Have you ever found a stranger’s note somewhere? If so, what did it say? No. Have you ever edited Wikipedia? No. Have you ever edited any other wiki? Yeah. I have thousands on the Silent Hill wiki, where I'm one of the admins. I'm also a content moderator at the Team Ico (Shadow of the Colossus devs) one. Every now and again I used to go on the meerkats wiki as well, where I mainly fixed the fucking nightmarish grammar. Very briefly, I edited at the Dragons of Atlantis wiki as well. Do you get scared when you know some virus or sickness is being passed? Not very, but of course I still acknowledge the risk and am more conscious of hand washing and stuff. What popular social media platforms AREN’T you on? Snapchat, I don't actually use my Twitter, I don't have a personal Instagram... There may be more, idk. Is TikTok a "social media platform?" Because I don't have that, either. What was the name of the first porcelien doll you got? Never had one, given I was afraid of dolls as a kid. What’s your favorite Paramore song? "Decode." Would you be happy with a life without romance? To be entirely honest, I'd feel like I was missing something. Was your childhood happy? Mostly. What fundamentally matters do you? Love, kindness, peace, all that gooey stuff. Is true world peace ever possible? As much as I hate to admit it, I don't think so. The human population is far too big to come to a unanimous agreement on anything. Do you hold yourself to higher standards than you hold others? Yeah. Would you ever own a pet black widow spider? No. I'm getting more into the idea of owning invertebrates (I jabber enough about wanting tarantulas, and there are others, like mantises, I'm interested in as pets), but black widows, I'm not into the idea of having. Too venomous for me to be comfortable risking. If you have a job, what is the longest shift that you've worked? N/A Do you know all of the words to "Bohemian Rhapsody?" FUCK YES I DO. ^ Do you sing it with all of the different voices? sho nuff Do you own more than one copy of a certain book? No. Do you like interpreting poetry or just reading it for fun? Both. I love symbolism, so I get joy out of digging for subtle meanings in poems. Do you have a favorite Dr. Suess book? Yeah, it was always Green Eggs and Ham. Do you watch The Walking Dead? If so, favorite character? Not the show, but I've watched let's plays of the games, haha. In which case Clementine is inarguably one of the best female characters in a video game universe. Who has/had the most mature romantic relationship you’ve seen with your own eyes? Uhhh. I mean I never saw them much, but probably my late grandmother and her last husband. He was fucking incredible to her, and Grammy adored him as well. They helped each other so much and just obviously had the purest love between them. When was the last time you got something for free (legally)? What was it & have you enjoyed it so far? Lmao do balls in Pokemon GO count? Their occasional free boxes are the reason I can play the game because PokeStops are essentially non-existent here, so yes. What is the one fruit you can’t stand to eat? How about vegetable? The first one that came to me were oranges. I enjoy orange juice, but I just caaaaannot with the white veiny shit that you can't totally get off when peeling it. Without that, I might actually enjoy them, but idk. As for vegetable, asparagus is absolutely abhorrent. When’s the last time you actually recited the pledge? If you aren’t American, do/did you have anything similar in your country that you do during a time at school? Probably not since high school. Last person you shared food with? Ummm I have no idea. It's really just Mom and me here and we eat our own stuff. What was the last song you heard for the first time and enjoyed? I believe it waaas... "Down In The Park" by Marilyn Manson, maybe. If your life was a TV show, what would be the theme song? My inner high school emo just screamed "All Signs Point to Lauderdale" by AD2R. Who are some of your favorite female fictional characters, and why? Gahdamn, there's a lot. I don't feel like going through a mental list in my head and then describing why. A character (in anything) you wish hadn’t been killed off? Vol'jin; I think the entire WoW fanbase will forever be pissed about it. It was THE most "lul we dunno what 2 do w/ him anymore, let's let a totally random, unnamed, unimportant demon kill him" like what the fuck, Blizz. Most of his "oomph" was in the book, and I just really wish they'd done so much more with him in the game. Has anything “cute” happened in the past week? Off the top of me noggin, no. When did you last say “I love you”? Did you mean it? Yesterday to Sara. OF course I did. Is there someone who pops into your mind at random times? Hi, PTSD, how are ya. Have you ever slept all day? Essentially. When I was on a larger dose of my anxiety med, I physically couldn't stay up for barely even five minutes, and when I'd lie back down, boom, I was OUT. I stayed on that dosage for I think just that one day, it was so bad. Can you have kids? Well, I have a functioning menstrual cycle, so I would assume so. Doesn't mean I will, though. What colors of mascara have you worn on your lashes? Only black. Do you like eating sour things? Hell yeah, I love sour stuff, candy in particular. Do you like pickles? fuuuuck yeah Did you ever have a really close friend move away? Yeah, in elementary school. I feel bad I can't remember her name at the moment... What's the most creative thing you've ever done? I mean, I guess the things I've written in RP. What's the most creative thing someone has done for you? For me? I don't really know. Do you like to watch ghost-hunting shows? Sure, they're some of my favorites. What’s something you’d like to be better at? Social interaction. Have you ever stayed up to talk to someone who was sad? Yeah. Do you think you would make a good parent? No. I know I wouldn't. The only time I ever wanted kids was with Jason, and honestly, I really hope I don't end up with a man because I never want to deal with that urge again and make a mistake. I'm just in no way emotionally fit to be a mother. How many best friends do you have? Just one. What do you cry over the most? My PTSD, honestly. I never sob about it anymore, just shed some tears. What language did/do you take in high school? Latin for one semester, then all four available for German. Which sports do you follow? None. Who was the last person you talked about marriage or having kids with? About marriage, Sara. Kids, the subject was lightly touched upon with Girt, though "with" was never a part of it, but obviously implied seeing as we were dating with long-term in mind. Have you ever been in a house fire? No, thankfully. Have you ever made out for one straight hour? them is rookie numbers Are you any good at remembering phone numbers? No. I literally don't even know my own, nor my mother's. I need to fix that. Who is your best friend of the opposite sex? Girt. Do you have a bookshelf? If so, just one or how many? No. If I gave you twenty bucks what would you do with it? Save it to go towards Venus' terrarium. Is there a movie from your childhood that you still watch today? Well of course! I'm unashamed to watch any "kids" movie I enjoy, like Disney ones. Most "kids" movies tend to be better than those intended for adults, it seems... Are you afraid of mice? Oh no, I adore mice and I think had a pair as pets before I got rats. What type of souvenir do you usually purchase when on vacation? I can't really answer this; I haven't gone on nearly enough vacations to develop a theme. I can say confidently though it'd probably be something small. If you could see any musical on Broadway right now, what would it be? I don't enjoy musicals. Have you ever watched Doctor Who? One or two with Sara, yes. I know we at least watched the weeping angels episode. If you read, which book or series did you enjoy most as a child? Warriors by S.E. Hinton. Sometimes I wanna get back into them, but I am YEARS behind and more into Wings of Fire anyway, so. I don't read nearly enough for both. How do you get rid of your hiccups? Literally no trick seems to work for me. I just suffer lmao.

#survey #surveys #questions

[alindakb]

Silent Tears - Chapter 3.3 - by Alinda

Teddy sits in front of the coffee table. His crayons spread out over the entire surface, a blank piece of parchment in front of him. Two finished drawings lay next to Draco on the sofa. The first one is a dragon, the one Harry had defeated when he was still in school. The second one is the one Draco wants to tear apart. Teddy had drawn a house that looks just like the one they are in now. In front of it are Harry and Draco. Harry, with a massive lightning bolt on his forehead and Draco, with white hair. Teddy is in it too, holding Draco’s hand. And that is all fine. Draco has seen many drawings that feature him and Harry. But this one is different. In the background sits a large dog. When Draco asked about it, Teddy shook his head and said it was a wolf, just like daddy. The wolf has a puppy on his back. Teddy said it was his baby brother that is now in heaven. And ever since Teddy spoke those words, Draco hasn’t been able to take his eyes off the drawing and the representation of his unborn baby. The baby Draco lost. The little brother he stole away from Teddy.

“How long before Harry comes home?” Teddy asks. It snaps Draco out of his thoughts. He looks up and hopes he doesn’t have tears in his eyes. The last thing he wants to do is upset Teddy.

“Not long. He said he would be back around six with dinner,” Draco says.

“And what time is it now?” Teddy asks.

Draco cast a Tempus to find out. “It’s ten for six,” he tells Teddy.

Teddy bites his lip and looks at his empty parchment “Do you think I can draw grandma’s house in ten minutes?” he asks.

“It’s a small home. You might be able to,” Draco answers. Teddy nods in conformation and picks up a bright green crayon. He starts outlining a house with his tongue stuck between his lips. Draco looks away, out of the window. The neighbour's house has a garland in front of the window. Draco spotted it this morning, just before he was supposed to go to work. He ended up staying at home. He called in sick and cried half the day away. The garland is still there now, the words a sting into Draco’s heart. It’s a girl, is all it says. And Draco knows it’s insane, but he wants to grab a rock from the garden and smash the window and destroy the garland.

The front door opens, and Teddy jumps up from the floor. “Harry is home,” he yells before he runs into the hallway. Draco startles from the words. He wipes his hand over his eyes in the hope Harry won’t notice he’s been crying again. He will try to comfort Draco, tell him their time will come. But Draco can’t stand it anymore. Harry has no reason to be nice to Draco when it comes to this. It’s Draco’s fault they lost their baby and haven’t been able to conceive again. Draco has done horrible things, worse than most in the war, and now he gets what he deserves. And that will never change.  

“I brought Chinese,” Harry says when he walks into the room, a white plastic bag in his hand, a smile on his face and an excited Teddy right behind him. Draco gets up from the sofa without returning the smile. He doesn’t say a word when he walks towards the kitchen, unsure if he can keep his composure. Harry stops him with a soft hand on his shoulder. He leans in and places a peck on Draco’s cheek. “Are you okay?” Harry asks.

“I’m fine,” Draco snaps. “Just hungry. It’s been a long day.”

“Okay,” Harry says. The smile on his face wavers, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Dinner is a silent affair. Teddy looks between Draco and Harry and hardly eats any of his food. Just like Draco and Harry. Most of the food containers end up in the fridge for another day. Harry takes Teddy upstairs to get him ready for bed. Draco lets him. It’s easier that way. Draco shouldn’t be allowed to look after the boy at all. He should be in jail, locked away for life for his crimes. But no, the Saviour had given a good word for him during his trial, and Draco was let off with a year's probation at Hogwarts. And that was hardly a punishment, as it was the year he and Harry had fallen in love and Draco had started to believe that he could be happy.

Draco closes his eyes and lets his hands rest on the counter. He can’t stop the thoughts from taking over. The hateful remarks people make, the howlers that still come sometimes, to remind him of the scum he is and that Harry deserves better. Like Draco doesn’t know this. He is the reason their saviour is unhappy, still childless, and all Harry ever wanted was to have a big family.

“Teddy is in bed. He asks me if we are going to split up,” Harry's voice comes from the doorway. “I told him not to be silly, that sometimes adults are a bit cranky too, that nothing is wrong. And then he told me you cried this afternoon.”

Draco shakes his head. He knows what comes now, the sweet words, the pity and worry. He hates that he does this to Harry. That he makes him worry, that he ruins his good day.

“Is it because of the banner at the neighbours?” Harry asks. His voice closer now, just behind Draco.

Draco nods in confirmation. Harry’s arms slide around Draco’s waist, and he rests his head on Draco’s back. “It’s okay to be sad,” Harry says.

“I’m not sad,” Draco answers. “I’m jealous. Of them, of Hermione, of Pansy.” He shakes Harry off him and storms away.

“Draco, please don’t walk away. I get it, I feel it too. You don’t have to hide this from me,” Harry says.

The desperation in Harry’s voice stops Draco in his tracks. “I want it so badly,” Draco chokes out. He turns and looks at Harry. “I’m a horrible person. I’ve upset Teddy, and you. This is not what you need when you come home from work. Bloody hell, I’m a mess. I’m supposed to be happy for our friends. But I’m not, Harry. I’m angry, and I hate them for having what we can’t have.”

Harry takes Draco’s hand in his. “Don’t give up hope, Draco. Our time will come.” Harry looks up at Draco, his green eyes still filled with hope. Draco can’t take it. Harry should hate him. But the man in front of him loves him. Draco doesn’t understand. After all, Draco has done, after the massive price Harry paid for Draco’s actions. Sirius would still be here, for one. Draco is sure of it. And now Draco is the reason why Harry is going to be childless for the rest of his life. How is it that Harry can just let all that slide and still love him?

“And what if it doesn’t?” Draco asks. He closes his eyes. He can’t stand the thought of looking into the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen when they break his heart.

Harry’s hand cups Draco’s face. His finger strokes over the skin like it’s made of porcelain. “Then there are other options we can look into. Dean said they might adopt in the future, and Hermione showed me some leaflets about surrogates.”

“It won’t be ours then,” Draco whispers. The options don’t sound like solutions, like other things they could look into. They just show how much Draco failed Harry.

“Draco, Teddy isn’t ours either. Doesn’t mean I don’t see him as my own. He’s our boy. I know you feel that way too. There isn’t a thing in the world you won’t do for him. And all I want is to extend our little family. I don’t care how, as long as I can do it with you” Harry says.

Tears fall from Draco’s eyes. His hand trembles in Harry’s, who squeezes it lightly. “I love you, Draco. And I hate seeing you in pain.”

“I love you too,” Draco answers. He lets his weight drop against Harry’s body, rests his head on his shoulder. Harry places his arms around Draco and hugs him. It helps a little with chasing away the demons in Draco’s head. But they won’t disappear, they keep nagging at the edge of his mind.

“Does Draco need Teddy-bear?” Teddy asks. Draco hasn’t heard him come down and into the room. He hopes the boy hasn’t seen much of what just happened. It’s already bad enough that Draco cried in front of him this afternoon without even realising it.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Harry asks Teddy.

“I wanted to say goodnight to Draco. Tell him not to be sad, that my mom and dad will look after my little brother.”

Draco turns so he can look at Teddy. The boy is in his dragon pyjamas and holds Teddy-bear in his small hand. Draco kneels in front of him, and Teddy falls into his arms. “I love you, Draco. Don’t be sad.”

“I love you too, Teddy,” Draco tells him. “I’ll take Teddy-bear tonight. And then I’ll feel better tomorrow, I promise. Now let us get you back into bed.”

Teddy agrees and takes Draco’s hand. Together they walk back to Teddy’s bedroom where Draco tucks the boy into bed. He kisses him on the forehead before he leaves the room. Harry is right about one thing, Teddy is their boy, no matter who his birth parents are, and Draco would do anything in his power to make sure he knows he’s loved and safe.

#silent tears #drarry #fanfiction #draco malfoy #harry potter #mpreg #fertility problems #depression #teddy lupin

[solarishashernoseinabook]

New Drarry Fic!

That’s right, I finally posted my fic! Find it here or read below the cut! 

(btw sorry if I’ve over-tagged things - this is my first fic posted to AO3 or Tumblr so be gentle!) 

Title: Harry Potter’s Robes for All Occasions 

Rating: General Audiences 

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Angelina Johnson/George Weasley

Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Scorpius Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Rose Weasley, Hugo Weasley, Teddy Lupin, Andromeda Black Tonks, Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, George Weasley, Angelina Johnson, Fred Weasley II, Bill Weasley, Fleur Delacour, Victoire Weasley, Dominique Weasley, Viktor Krum, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Charlie Weasley, Madame Malkin

Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Fluff, Domestic Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Established Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Parents Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Married Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Minor Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Minor George Weasley/Angelina Johnson, Minor Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Knitting, Auror Harry Potter Language: English Stats: Published:2019-07-25 Words: 1928 Chapters: 1/1

It started with a gift for Scorpius.

Actually, it had started with Draco’s violet dress robes. Draco had always stuck to black or green robes, but Harry had noticed Draco’s eyes were brought out particularly well by violet when they were having their fifth anniversary dinner at Madam Puddifoot’s, which had set purple flowers on the table. The next day he bought Draco a pair of dress robes in the same colour, and though Draco had protested furiously that they weren’t his thing, he wore them without hesitation to the Yuletide Ministry Ball.

Harry remembered coming home to Scorpius that night, fighting to stay awake to greet them despite Narcissa’s attempts to get him to bed. He remembered Scorpius’s final burst of energy to run to them, how he threw himself on Draco, and fell asleep as soon as Draco picked him up. He also remembered what had happened the next morning.

‘Papa,’ Scorpius said, chewing on a bit of egg, ‘Daddy wore purple last night.’

‘Yes, he did,’ Harry said.

‘I never saw Daddy in purple before!’

Harry grinned. ‘Me neither. But he liked the purple robes, so I’m happy.’

‘I want purple robes!’ Scorpius said, and Harry promised to get him some.

It turned out to be very difficult. It was the norm for wizarding children to wear Muggle clothes until they reached Hogwarts, and Harry could find nothing for Scorpius’s size in the colour he wanted. As a last resort, feeling rather embarrassed, he went to The Burrow, where Mrs Weasley was knitting wool boots for her newest grandchild. She set her knitting aside when Harry came in and hugged him tightly. ‘Harry dear, what do you need?’

‘I…’ Harry swallowed. ‘I need to learn how to knit.’

*

Harry worked on the robes whenever Scorpius wasn’t watching. This often meant staying up late – for Scorpius was always the first one awake – or working on it at Auror Headquarters, a pair of enchanted knitting needles clicking away as he moved through the endless paperwork, his coworkers snickering behind their teetering stacks of reports and forms.

And then, finally, it was ready.

*

Scorpius’s birthday dawned with a clear sky and bright sun sparkling off freshly-fallen snow. Harry didn’t have time to take it in, because before the alarm clock by his bedside could go off Scorpius jumped onto the bed, still in his pyjamas and his blond hair sticking up in every direction. ‘Papa! Daddy! Wake up!’

‘We’re awake,’ Draco grumbled, pulling a pillow over his eyes. ‘It’s too early, Scorp. You can go back to sleep.’

Harry put on his glasses and looked at the clock through bleary eyes. ‘It’s 8 am.’

‘Quiet, Potter,’ Draco grumbled.

‘You’re only saying that because I’m right, Potter-Malfoy,’ Harry said with a grin. Draco slapped at him blindly from under the pillow, landing a glancing blow on his arm.

‘C’mon, c’mon, it’s my birthday!’ Scorpius said. ‘You gotta get up!’

‘And it’ll still be your birthday in ten minutes, so you can wait,’ Harry said, but he swung his legs off the bed anyway and reached for his robes, and though he grumbled, Draco got up as well and took Scorpius to get him dressed. Harry could hear Scorpius’s chatter even as he went to the kitchen and poured pancake mix into a bowl.

*

Teddy was the first guest to arrive when the party started, jumping out of the fireplace ahead of his grandmother, and moments later the fireplace lit up again as Ron, Hermione, Rose, and Hugo appeared. Mr and Mrs Weasley, George, Angelina, and Fred Jr came through the door and nearly ran into Ginny and Luna, who apparated in front of them. Bill arrived last with Victoire, apologising for his lateness and explaining that baby Dominique had kept Fleur up all night.

Scorpius greeted them all and was happy to play with them, but his eyes kept straying to the pile of gifts in front of the couch, and he kept craning his neck during lunch and while having cake to see them. As soon as Draco cleared away the dishes Scorpius jumped out of his seat and ran to the gifts, the other kids scrambling behind him.

Only when Scorpius was surrounded by a pile of wrapping paper and toys did Harry pull out the gift he had made and hand it over, and Scorpius tore the paper off in excitement. He pulled out the folded robes, which tumbled open. ‘Purple robes!’

Harry grinned. ‘Yeah. Want me to help you put them on?’

Scorpius nodded excitedly and Harry helped put them over his clothes. They weren’t up to the standard of Mrs Weasley's sweaters, even with her diligent teaching, but the spells she had taught him made it look even all over and had minimised the dropped stitches. The robes fit over Scorpius’s clothes like his school robes would one day, and the thick, violet wool had been waterproofed so it would keep him warm even in snow. As soon as it was on him he ran to the hall mirror and looked at himself.

Harry's breath was tight in his chest.

Scorpius ran back in and his face split into a radiant smile. ‘I look like Daddy!’

Harry’s tension released all at once and he gave Scorpius a grin. Scorpius hugged him, then ran to Draco and jumped into his lap, already talking a mile a minute about their matching robes. Draco put his arm around him and smiled, but Harry caught Draco glancing up at him every so often.

The kids ran out to play in the snow, Scorpius wearing his new robes and some mittens courtesy of Mrs Weasley, and Draco made tea for the adults. They exchanged gratitude and pleasantries as the tea was handed out, and then came a few moments of silence until they spoke again.

‘The robes turned out very nice, Harry, dear,’ Mrs Weasley said.

‘Yeah, did you make those yourself?’ Ginny said.

Harry blushed. ‘Yeah, I did.’

‘They look cozy,’ Ginny said.

‘If you put corks near it while you knit, it’ll keep away the nargles,’ Luna said.

‘Er, right,’ Harry said.

‘Victoire was really admiring it,’ Bill said. ‘She’s going to be jealous when she gets home.’

‘Teddy was asking me if he could have one,’ Andromeda said with a grin.

‘Well if Teddy wants one Victoire definitely will.’ Bill grinned.

‘But, er…’ Harry said.

‘You should make them,’ Luna said.

‘I’ve still got my spare knitting needles from Hogwarts,’ Hermione said.

Harry looked over the grinning faces of his extended family. After a moment he grinned as well. ‘Okay, okay. Just give me a bit to get all the wool I’ll need.’

*

Even with five pairs of knitting needles working constantly, Harry found it took a while to get all the new robes finished. Mrs Weasley gave him additional tutoring on his spells, but he still found himself wondering how she managed to knit sweaters for over a dozen people every year. Eventually he had the knitting needles clicking after him wherever he went, their constant noise becoming a background rhythm for his daily life. He noticed himself humming to the tune of them, or timing his tasks based on the clicks of the needles, and noticing when things took too long or too slow based on that.

It was very strange when he was finally done.

*

A few months later, Harry got an owl from a witch living near Shell Cottage. She didn’t have kids, but she’d seen Victoire wearing her wool robes and thought they looked quite nice, and could she have some in pink? She included her measurements and had used some pink ink to indicate the exact colour she wanted, and on a separate sheet had included the number of her Gringott’s account so he could take payment.

When Draco came in, Harry was already knitting. He looked in. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Someone else wants some robes,’ Harry said, using magic to fix some wonky stitching.

‘Who?’

‘Uh…’ Harry checked the letter. ‘Doris Deggle.’

‘You’re making robes for strangers now?’

Harry shrugged. ‘She’s paying.’

Draco looked at him a moment longer, then went off.

*

Two weeks after Doris Deggle got her robes, three more people sent owls asking for robes of their own. Four days later Harry got six more requests for robes. A month later Madame Malkin came to Grimmauld Place to personally ask him to sell his robes in her shop, sharing the profits. Harry protested that they were getting into spring and it would soon be too warm to wear wool robes, but Madame Malkin brushed his objections away. ‘They’ll be all the rage, Mr Potter,’ she said. ‘Especially for northern communities. And having the year to make them will give you time to make enough to meet demand.’

Harry was quiet for a long time. He thought of Scorpius, who still ran around outside in his wool robes, and he thought of Draco, who Scorpius had convinced to put on his dress robes so they would match when they went to Dominique’s first birthday. ‘I’ll think about it,’ he said slowly, and when Madame Malkin was gone he picked up his needles.

*

Spring was finally upon them and all Scorpius would talk about was their upcoming holiday. Viktor Krum had invited everyone to Bulgaria where he lived in a wizarding town in the mountains, and they were set to leave in under a week.

‘D’ya think Uncle Viktor can teach me Quidditch?’ Scorpius asked.

‘Scorp, I taught you Quidditch. Daddy taught you Quidditch. Auntie Ginny taught you Quidditch. So did Uncle George, Aunt Angelina, Uncle Charlie and Uncle Ron. You already know Quidditch.’

‘But Uncle Viktor’s famous!’

‘So’s Auntie Ginny.’

��But I don’t see Uncle Viktor very much!’

Harry sighed, but he was hiding a grin. ‘Yes, I’m sure he’ll teach you Quidditch. Now pack warm clothes, it’s still winter in Bulgaria.’

‘I’m gonna pack my robes!’ Scorpius said, darting off and nearly running into Draco, who was coming in. ‘Excited, isn’t he?’

Harry grinned. ‘Uncle Viktor’s gonna teach him about Quidditch.’

A small smirk curled on Draco’s lips. ‘That kid’s gonna be the best Quidditch player on the planet when this family’s done with him.’

Harry laughed. ‘The rest of the family tutored him, but he got the talent from me.’

‘Pratt.’ Draco swatted him and turned away. He went to the wardrobe and started pulling clothes out of it. ‘Malkin floo’d earlier, by the way. She wants to know if you’ve made a decision.’

‘Actually, I have.’

When he didn’t go on, Draco turned to him. Harry was holding a plain package wrapped in brown paper. ‘I’ve decided to make robes,’ Harry said. ‘Sort of. I’m not going to quit being an auror. But the robes make people happy. All I really have to do is supervise, anyway. Mrs Weasley said she’d help, and Fleur. And if I get more people on board it won’t be a problem. I can do both.’

Draco smirked again. ‘Still playing the hero, Harry,’ he said softly. ‘Always wanting to make everyone happy.’

‘That’s right. Including my husband.’ Harry handed the package to him.

Draco took it and unwrapped it, and his eyes widened. He picked up a set of knitted robes in Slytherin green. His eyes flickered up to meet Harry’s. ‘You’ve been admiring Scorp’s robes for months,’ Harry said softly. ‘And I decided if I was going to make robes for everyone, I’d start with my family first.’

Draco dropped the robes and pulled Harry into a kiss.

#drarry #harry potter x draco malfoy #harry potter #draco malfoy #scorpius malfoy #domestic drarry #drarry fluff #married drarry #parents drarry #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3

[writeawayharry]

The Nanny (Daddy Harry)

“Seriously, Y/N, I think you’d be stupid not to give this job a chance.”

Phone tucked between your shoulder and ear, you rolled your eyes as you continued chopping carrots for your dinner.

“I don’t know, Melissa. Child care? It’s so far from anything I’ve ever done before.”

“That’s why I think this will be perfect for you,” your cousin said earnestly. “Maybe it’s what you need; a little change of scenery. Take the company downsizing as a sign.”

You bit your lip. “I guess,” you said unenthusiastically.

“Y/N, I can hear it in your voice, you’re not convinced. But you’ve always been looking for an adventure. You’ve been stuck in a rut lately and you know it.”

You didn’t even bother to argue—she was right. You heard her shuffling in the background.

“My dad’s friend works with the man who needs the nanny. He’s a single dad with a young girl. How bad could it be?”

You leaned against the countertop, abandoning your cooking for a moment. This really was an opportunity.

“Fine. Send me the details.”

…

You emailed the address Melissa texted you and got an almost-immediate reply. He was interested in interviewing you, and wanted you to come in. You spent the next half hour Google mapping the interview location. It was a music studio? How odd. Maybe he worked there and wanted to interview you during his work time.

You arrived at the interview a few minutes early. Taking a deep breath, you smoothed your white t-shirt and straightened out your denim skirt. You walked through the large double doors of the studio and were met with a dark-skinned woman behind the desk.

“May I help you today?” she asked sweetly.

“I’m here for an interview with Scott Ryan. About the nanny position.”

“Ah. Right this way, Ms. He’s right here.”

With a kind smile, she gestured for you to enter a room that had the door propped slightly open.

“Mr. Ryan, this young lady is here for an interview.”

“Wonderful, thank you Andrea.”

Mr. Ryan shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “Please, take a seat right here. I promise we won’t be too long.”

You sat down and clumsily adjusted yourself. The nerves were starting to show.

“So, Y/N, what makes you want to be a nanny? I read the resume you sent. It doesn’t look like you have a lot of experience.” He looked at you beneath his glasses.

You gave a small shrug. “I don’t, but do I need it, exactly? I mean, wouldn’t I just be taking care of one child? Darcy, you said her name was? Someone can have all the experience in the world, but if they don’t connect with that one kid, it won’t matter. I, too, read what you sent me. Darcy seems shy, inhibited. I was like that, in fact, I still am. I think I can connect with her.”

Scott looked at you with a pleased smile. “Okay, that’s that. I only have one more question for you.”

He noticed your look of shock.

“Like I said, I keep these interviews short.”

You nodded.

“Y/N, who is your celebrity crush?”

Your eyes widened. “Pardon me?”

“Who is your celebrity crush?” he repeated.

You thought for a moment.

“Oh goodness, I have no idea. I haven’t had one of those since the ninth grade. I guess the only crush I have now is on my boyfriend,” you answered sheepishly.

Scott nodded enthusiastically, like he was on to something.

“Okay, I lied. I have one last question. Do you know who Darcy’s father is?”

“Um, yes. You?” you answered nervously. Was this a joke?

Scott Ryan stood up and headed for his door quickly. “Come with me please, Y/N. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Slightly confused, you kept up with Scott’s fast pace as he led you down a long hallway. He winked at you before he opened a door. Your eyes took in a recording studio. You had never been in one, but you knew immediately what is was.

There were several people in the room, all men, but your attention was drawn to one in particular. He was leaning back in a swivel chair, feet perched on a stool in front of him. His black jeans were tight and his white button up shirt was comfortably loose. His curly brown hair curled beautifully over his ears. You recognized the man.

“Harry,” Scott began.

Holy shit. It was Harry Styles.

“Mmm?” he said, looking up, appearing stressed.

“I think I found you your nanny,” Scott smiled.

That was when Harry noticed your presence in the room. His eyes widened as he took you in. From your practically makeup free face, ponytail, and white sneakers, you felt his eyes roam. Heat flared in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah?” Harry asked rhetorically. “What’s your name?” he directed at you.

You felt your face flush. “Y/N Y/L/N,” you answered nervously.

Harry nodded and looked back at Scott. “She’s really young,” he said disapprovingly.

Scott sighed. “She answered all your questions flawlessly. Come on Harry, we’re trying to get you back on tour, Darcy needs someone.”

Harry leaned further back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. “I know that! Y/N, Scott will send you my details. Please be at my place tomorrow at 4. Consider yourself hired.”

…

You were texting your boyfriend Andrew as you took the elevator up to Harry’s floor. He lived in the penthouse of a luxury condominium downtown. Andrew knew how nervous you were, and was trying to calm your nerves. Things had been sort of rocky between the two of you lately, so you were glad he was being supportive.

You knocked on the door of 174, Harry’s apartment and waited for an answer. Within seconds, Harry opened it.

Holy Toledo.

You didn’t follow the tabloids or gossip sites, but you knew enough that Harry Styles was in his mid-thirties now. And unlike most men, he only seemed to be getting better with age. His shoulders were broader, his eyes were kinder, and his face was always covered in a shadow of facial hair.

He was wearing an outfit similar to the one you saw yesterday, and you pretty much just stared at him.

“Y/N, come in,” he said cheerily.

Already, you could tell he was in a much better mood than he was in yesterday. Clearly, there was work stress.

“Hi, Mr. Styles,” you said shyly.

“Oh, call me Harry. Or boss,” he winked.

Jesus.

“Daddy, is this her?” a little girl said quietly.

“Yes, Darcy, this is Y/N. She’s really nice,” Harry told his daughter.

“Hi, Darcy,” you said, stepping inside.

She was situated by the corner, safely away from the door.

“I’m so excited to be spending some time with you,” you said, leaning down to her eye level.

Despite her shyness, she met your gaze steadily.

“I brought you something.” You reached into your bag and pulled out a stuffed animal. “It’s a teddy bear. His name is Mr. Patches. I had one just like him when I was your age.”

Darcy appraised the teddy and reached out for him. As soon as he was in her arms, she pulled it in for a hug. “Thank you, Y/N. I love Mr. Patches. I’d like to show you my bedroom now, if you’d like to follow me.”

Darcy turned on her heels and you followed her, giving Harry a quick glance. His lips were slightly parted in awe.

…

Three hours later, Harry gently knocked on the door and called the two of you for dinner. You were wearing a boa and princess crown, having a tea party with Darcy. He failed to hide his smirk.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Darcy continued to talk like an adult and Harry made small talk with her. You mainly just observed.

Shortly after dinner, Harry tucked Darcy in to bed. When you were playing with Darcy earlier, he must have brought your suitcase to your new bedroom. One of the perks of this job: you were going to live with them.

“Your stuff is in your room,” Harry explained needlessly as he closed the door to Darcy’s room.

“Yeah, thanks,” you said quietly.

“Look, Y/N,” Harry continued. “I didn’t mean to be so rude yesterday. Finding a nanny has been literal hell. Honestly…”

“I understand,” you smiled.

More people were probably more interested in Harry than Darcy.

“Well then goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

…

It had been three weeks, and things were going very well. You and Darcy had taken a liking to each other and your friendship was growing. Harry didn’t tend to be home very often, but he was a loving and attentive father when he was. He was also incredibly hot.

So far, all of your dinners had been ordered in. Tonight, you wanted to cook and treat Harry and Darcy to a roast chicken.

But his oven was so damn fancy. You used as much common sense as you had to figure out how it worked. You didn’t want to ask Harry in fear of not looking competent.

You were flipping through a magazine on the kitchen counter when you began to smell something burn. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Harry enter the room.

“Something smells…” he began.

Just as he was speaking, you opened the oven and a flame angrily escaped.

“Careful!” Harry roared.

Within seconds, one hand was wrapped around your waist as he pulled you away from the oven. Then he slammed the oven shut.

His body was pressing yours against the island and your heavy breaths were rising and falling rapidly. Lips parted, Harry was staring heavily into your eyes. Everywhere his hands were was tingly.

“Daddy, is the chicken almost done?” Darcy asked, holding Mr. Patches.

“Um…actually,” Harry said, still looking at you, “we’re going to order pizza.”

…

“Would you like a glass?” Harry asked as he poured himself a second glass of red wine.

Darcy had just been put to sleep and the apartment had a dark, cozy, calm. Despite being the pent house and immaculate, it was relatively small. Harry had said he wanted a place that no matter where he was inside of it, he would still feel close to Darcy.

“Yes, please,” you answered. You weren’t much of a drinker but after the dinner disaster, you needed one.

Harry’s eyes were twinkling as he poured it and already seemed tipsy.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking a sip.

“You know, Y/N, Darcy really loves having you here. She’s never taken a liking to someone before. And the same goes for me.”

You hid your blush as you took another sip. “Well, I like being here.”

Harry smiled and turn on the TV. There were some reruns of the Most Extreme Elimination Challenge on, and you and Harry were laughing so hard tears were forming in your eyes. Sometime during the show, the two of you had scooted closer to each other. Suddenly, you were practically on his lap.

It was now past midnight, and you were feeling giddy and light.

You were saying something and Harry was turned toward you, listening. Then you noticed his eyes travel to the corner of your mouth.

“What?” you asked.

His thumb pressed onto your lip. “You have a drop of wine there,” he said, eyelids heavy.

Then he leaned in and pressed his lips softly into yours.

And then they were gone.

“I am so sorry,” Harry exclaimed, backing away from you immediately. “That never should have happened. It was so inappropriate and I didn’t mean to do it!”

Well that stung. Kissing you was a mistake.

“It’s fine,” you said curtly, leaving him alone.

…

The next night Andrew was over. Darcy was going to her aunt’s house and Harry had to be at the studio late. So it was just you.

The two of you weren’t doing much talking. Andrew just wanted to make out, evidently. His hands kept groping your body despite your protests. His tongue was halfway down your throat when Harry entered.

“Excuse me?” He said, voice sounding seriously ticked off.

“Harry…” you began.

“You can leave right now, young man,” Harry said.

Immediately Andrew got up and left.

Your eyes narrowed at Harry. “You didn’t have to embarrass my boyfriend like that.”

Harry walked to the kitchen. “This isn’t part of the arrangement, Y/N. You keep that boy and his wandering hands out of here!”

“Oh, only you are allowed you to kiss me?”

He froze.

“I told you, that was a mistake.”

“Yeah, I got that. Loud and clear. Maybe this entire thing was.” You felt like crying.

“Y/N…” Harry began tenderly.

“Goodnight Mr. Styles.”

…

Harry found you on the couch the next night, sad and alone. The cushions dipped as he sat beside you.

“Y/N, I’ve been as ass, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so hard about you and Andrew. Just seeing him…I just got, jealous.”

You shook your head sadly. “You don’t have to worry about Andrew anymore. We broke up this afternoon.”

“Really?” Harry asked.

You nodded.

“Good.”

Before you could form a coherent thought, Harry’s hands grabbed your face and he pressed his lips into yours for the second time.

Thanks so much for reading! x

#harry styles #harry #hs #harry styles writing #daddy harry #harry styles one shots #harry styles imagines #harry writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #one direction one shots #one direction imagines #harry one shots #harry imagines

[nextgensquad]

next gen squad writing  meme: [2/10] a canon character sorted into an unexpected House ↳   VICTOIRE WEASLEY 

Always seen as a Hufflepuff by both herself and her family, Victoire never expected to go to Hogwarts and be anything but.

In the Weasley family, it’s been tradition for generations to have a ‘congratulations you’re going to Hogwarts party’ in some incarnation the week before the new academic year. Usually on a Wednesday, the whole extended family – or at least the parts which the Weasleys choose to associate with – gathers together in the home of the newest student, keen to celebrate their life and share stories of the strangely mysterious school for Britain’s witches and wizards.

In the previous generation, the Weasleys proper hosted six such events, one for each year that a Weasley went to Hogwarts. This time, nobody knows just how many parties the Potter-Weasley clan are going to have to take turns in hosting to welcome another eleven year old into the Hogwarts fold, though the odds are that they’ll be hosting them every year for the next two decades.

This is only the second party in almost twenty years, following Teddy Lupin’s two years ago, and Victoire can feel the pressure before it’s even begun. To be called Victoire, to be born on the anniversary of a battle that she’s still not really learnt much about despite her best efforts, that’s all bad enough – but to be the first of a new generation of her family to head to the most renowned place in the Wizarding World…it’s almost too much. It’s enough to make her want to cut her hair off and dye it blonde, to change her name and pretend to be from any family other than the Weasleys, just for at least a moment’s normality.

And then there’s the matter of the last activity of the party: the guessing game. Starting with Grandpa’s Grandpa, the Weasleys decided to see whether they could beat the Sorting Hat to see which House the latest recruit would be in. Nine times out of ten they’re right, according to the legend.

“So, Vic,” James Potter, only seven years old and yet already a troublemaker, says as he takes the last piece of pizza from the buffet. “Excited to go to Hogwarts?”

She shoots him a look, curious as to what his motive could be. Last time they spoke, James used her answers to correctly guess his way into her children’s account at Gringotts via the Floo network.

“Absolutely,” she replies. “I’ve wanted to go ever since Teddy left.” Which is the truth; watching as he left, leaving her with cousins and siblings years and years younger than her, made her more desperate than ever to be with other people her age.

“Which House do you think you’ll be in?” James pushes, and Victoire can finally see why he spoke to her.

“Do you want to try and win the competition or something?” She replies, taking a bite of her final sausage roll. “No idea. Nobody knows what House they’re going to be in.”

“Yeah, but, you know really, don’t you?” Fred comes around the buffet table to join in the conversation. “Three galleons for you to tell us.”

Vic shakes her head. “Really, I don’t know. Ask your Dads, they both got Teddy’s right.” She didn’t, she bet he’d be in Gryffindor, as most of the family had done. Hedging their bets and all.

“She’s definitely a Hufflepuff,” Albus says by way of joining the conversation, his lisp causing him to make Hufflepuff into about three separate words. “Mummy said so.”

James narrows his eyes and turns to his brother. “Mum told you that? She said she wouldn’t tell me anything!”

“I can see the Hufflepuff,” Fred concurs, musing as he locks eyes with his oldest cousin. “I mean, she even looks a bit like what Dad says the Grey Lady looks like!”

Vic rolls her eyes. “Teddy doesn’t look like the Grey Lady and he’s a Hufflepuff,” she replies, wondering whether this conversation will ever end. There’s no point debating it: people have told her since she could walk that she was kind and sweet and helpful and polite – all of the traits of a Hufflepuff.

It never used to bother her, which House she was in. She thought that it was silly, just something that would happen when she finally got to Hogwarts, but that it wouldn’t really change anything. Then Teddy went and became a Hufflepuff, and she realised that he wasn’t just Teddy anymore, he was Teddy the Hufflepuff. Teddy like his Mum, Teddy who is kind and generous and everything that Vic is.

And it makes her want to be a Hufflepuff even more. So she can spend time with her best friend, the person who managed to make a cake and send it via Floo aged eight because she had fallen over on the beach and cut her leg open. The person who wrote to her every week in his first year at Hogwarts because he knew she missed him more than anything. The person who makes her put up with having a baby at home, because it’s the kind thing to do.

Meanwhile, around her, most of her cousins who are old enough to know what’s going on have gathered, with the sole exception of Teddy. He’s off with his friends, too cool to play a Sorting Hat game, or so Uncle Harry says.

“Maybe Ravenclaw?” Lucy Weasley suggests. “Vic’s so smart.”

“She’s smart because she’s older,” Dom replies, in the anti-Vic way she always manages to achieve. “Definitely a Hufflepuff. She likes looking after people too much.”

Not you, Vic thinks to herself, wishing that she had accidentally pushed Dominque off the cliff when she was a baby. Then instantly regretting it and remembering the (few) good memories she has of her little sister.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, it’s a near unanimous vote for Hufflepuff from the adults of the Potter-Weasley clan.

“I don’t know…it just seems like we’ve pigeonholed her,” George says, spinning his ‘House Predictor’ on sale in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. “I think we should all buy one of these and see what they all say. Just ten galleons each.”

Harry rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his Firewhiskey. “As a stakeholder, I think I’d like to claim my dividend in the form of a free House Predictor.”

“We don’t need to use this rubbish,” Ron interjects, raising his voice slightly. “Let’s stick to how we did it with Teddy: write our predictions down, and see who’s right come September.”

“Just because you didn’t come up with the idea doesn’t mean it’s a bad one,” George mutters under his breath, accepting his piece of parchment.

Overall, as Bill and Fleur count up the predictions at the end of the party, ninety percent of the family believe that Victoire’s going to be a Hufflepuff. Victoire included.

…

The first of September whizzes by in a blur for Victoire. She gets up and gets ready, they Floo to a café near to King’s Cross and then walk across to the platform. She gets into a train compartment and is soon joined by three girls she’s never met before: Kourtney McLaggen, Jaimie Smith and Connie Walker. They talk about their lives, and Vic’s secretly pleased to learn that two of them, being Muggleborn, haven’t heard of her family. So that’s one good thing.

Making the most of the large amount of money given to her by her parents, Vic buys them a feast from the trolley at lunchtime, sharing stories with the other girls about the legends of Nicolas Flamel and Albus Dumbledore from the Chocolate Frog cards. Once again, she’s relieved to see that they’ve not got cards of her family.

After a short snooze, they get into their school uniforms and, for the first time, Vic feels a pinch in her stomach. She’s close to finding out her House, to finding out that she’s a Hufflepuff officially. But, in the back of her mind, she thinks about the other Houses, and how it would be pretty cool to be a Gryffindor or a Slytherin. Maybe, anyway.

They take the boats across the lake, and Victoire’s mesmerised by the commanding presence of the school buildings. It’s incredible, even more so than the pictures she’s seen since she can first remember, and she’s excited but also terrified to be here.

All of the First Years enter the hall together, and Vic’s pleased to have her new friends by her side. It’s nice, too, to have Connie; as a fellow W, they’ll be one of the last to be Sorted. But at least she won’t be alone.

Her stomach plunges when the teacher, someone she hasn’t met before, calls, “Weasley, Victoire,” and she steps forwards to the manky leather hat. Gingerly, she places it onto her head, and gasps as it begins to move.

“So, a kind-hearted soul I see before me,” the Sorting Hat says inside her head. “You like to please…but you’re also ambitious…you want to be yourself, rather than your family. Admirable, truly.”

“Thank you?” Victoire whispers back inside her head, hoping that the hat can hear her. Then she takes a deep breath before adding, “but it’s up to you where I go. I promise I’ll do my best wherever that is.”

“Ah, the newest Weasley to join our ranks doesn’t disappoint!” This time, when the Hat speaks, it speaks to the whole hall, the sudden increase in volume startling her. Surely it can’t have made a decision already? “And the result is…Gryffindor!”

She’s stunned. More than stunned, actually, it’s as if she’s been petrified. Even after the hat is removed from her head, Victoire stays seated, unable to comprehend what she’s been told. For years, she’s been told she’s the kind one, the generous one, the one who says it’s okay that they don’t go to town today because one of the kids are sick, despite it being her birthday. The one who is eager to please, to do anything she can to blend into the background simply so that the spotlight can disappear for a minute, so that she can be Victoire Weasley, an eleven year old girl from Cornwall rather than the daughter of war heroes.

But as she begins to move towards the red and gold clad table, its occupants cheering and clapping its newest member, she begins to realise the shift in her mentality. The idea of Hufflepuff was safe and secure, something she’s gravitated towards almost since birth.

But her acceptance that she could go anywhere – and she’d be fine anywhere – was brave. She didn’t crave safety and comfort when she sat to experience the first major life event for a young witch. Instead, she chose the unknown, chose to leave her fate to someone else, so that she could enjoy the ride.

So she’s ended up as a Gryffindor. Brave, stubborn and reckless, apparently. But perhaps that’s just another way of saying kind, generous and willing to go the extra mile for the people she loves.

…

In the end, only Grandpa Weasley ends up winning the Sorting Hat game played by the Potter-Weasleys. He claims at Christmas, the next time the whole family is together, that it’s because he always knew that his eldest granddaughter was a lion at heart, but Grandma tells them that he writes Gryffindor, no matter what.

Being a Gryffindor is also a perfect excuse for Victoire to ‘accidentally on purpose’ push her sister into a garden gnome’s hole in the back garden of the Burrow on Christmas Morning. Not that she’ll ever admit that, of course.

#vicky #nextgenwritingmeme #next generation #i don't know if this is my canon clioverse so i'm not going to tag it as such because?? who knows anything about my vic??? #gryffindor #hufflepuff #sorting #hpmeme #hp nextgen

[beetlegoose01]

stolen whispers-chapter 2

AN: Chapter 2 is here!!  I decided to post it on here as normal, I hope you guys enjoy!

Summary: Albus discovers Scorpius is missing and must rely on the help of his family.

Time: Spring 2028

Extra info: James Sirius is married to my OC, Iris. They have two children.

~~~~

It had been a few hours since Scorpius had left. Now at nearly 2pm, Albus was starting to grow concerned. Scorpius had a tendency to dawdle and get distracted by all the wonderful things at the market, but this was a bit ridiculous. Even for Scorpius. Panicking would do him no good, so he decided to try calling him. One ring...two...three...straight to voice-mail. Well, shit. He sighed, running his hand through his dark curls. He wasn't paranoid, but he decided to send him a text too, just for good measure.

Still nothing. But it hadn't been that long. Surely Scorpius would call shortly. Everything would be fine. But there was a pit in his stomach still, a strong feeling that something was wrong.

'Paranoia be damned.' Albus thought. 'I have to make sure he's okay.'

The farmer's market had cleared out mostly, several vendors were starting to pack up. Heart pumping in his chest, he approached the nearest one.

"Ms. Beaker!" He called.

"Al, dear." The old woman smiled kindly. "What can I do for you? I'm afraid I'm packing up my fruit for today."

"Have you seen Scorpius?" He asked impatiently. "My husband."

"Oh yes." Ms. Beaker said. "He bought my strawberries, such a nice young man. But I haven't seen him since. He seemed to have vanished."

"Vanished?" Albus repeated. "Thank- thank you. I've got to go now."

He walked briskly towards the end of the market, trying not to think of worse case scenarios. Just as he was hovering his finger over his phone, about to call him again, something made him stop in his tracks.

A discarded basket lay clumsily on the ground. Several strawberries were scattered clumsily across the floor. Its handles were bent, clearly messed around with, but at the same time recognizable to him. Scorpius brought it with him on market trips. He often joked that it made him look like Red Riding Hood, a muggle fairytale. Albus had even tied a silver ribbon to the handle as a gift.

"Scorpius..." He murmured, collecting the basket. Okay, maybe panicking was a good idea.

'Draco. I have to find Draco. He'll know what to do.'

Finding a secluded area to collect his thoughts, he apparated to the infamous Malfoy Manor. He didn't waste any time admiring the gilded gates or the fountains or even the proud peacocks grazing nearby. No, he had to find his father in law. Luck was on his side, because he found the older wizard outside, admiring a flowered hedge.

"Draco!" He gasped, rushing forward. He didn't care about being sweaty or rude for intruding. "Please- I need your...sir I need your help."

Draco raised his brow, now puzzled as to why his son in law had apparted to the Manor at such an odd time. "With what? Come here, son.”

"I can't- I don’t." Albus shook his head.

"Where's Scorpius?"

"That's just it. I don't know. He's..." He looked grim. "He's missing."

"What do you mean 'missing'?" Draco said, though he looked deeply worried. As if he already knew the worst was coming.

Albus made a frustrated noise. "I mean, he's gone! He was at the farmer's market earlier today and he's been gone for hours. I’ve called him using my mobile, but still nothing at all. No response, not even a text."

"And he didn't have any work or ...?"

"No."

"We can't assume anything. Perhaps you should wait here while I think of something."

"Draco, what else can we do? We can't sit here when he could be hurt or lost or-"

"Why weren't you with him?" Draco demanded, his temper rising. The two men were face to face, both more scared than angry. “How could my son be missing again?”

"In case you didn't realize Draco, he's a grown adult and can go wherever he likes." Albus retorted, not the least bit intimidated by his father in law. He may be shorter than him, but he was stubborn as sin, and nothing mattered more than Scorpius. "That isn't the point, I didn't think this would happen. Please, can we not argue and figure out what to do?"

"You're right." He sighed. He looked so much older, exhausted. "I'm sorry, us arguing isn't going to help. I know it wasn’t your fault."

For a brief moment, their eyes met. Two men that loved Scorpius in different ways.

"I don't want to think it's a kidnap, but if it is?"

Draco hummed. "The Malfoys have many enemies. It wouldn't surprise me." He fiddled with his wedding ring. "We can't assume though, surely we can..."

A letter dropped in front of them with a thud. It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, no owl in sight.

Draco snatched it before Al could, scanning it over. He looked faint, dazed. Pale and sickly, he read it over once. Then again. His hands were trembling.

"Draco....Draco!" He waved his arm desperately. "What does it say?"

"It's Scorpius. You’re right. He...has been taken."

No. No this can't be happening. Not Scorpius. Anybody but Scorpius.

"By who?" Albus urged, growing more frantic by the second. "We can't waste time standing around or..." His eyes filled with desperate, terrified tears. "Is he alive?" He whispered. "I need to know."

"Yes, he's alive." Draco nodded gravely. "I don't know who they are, but they're Death Eater sympathizers. Read it- they want gold."

Malfoy,

If you want to see your son alive again, listen carefully.

Empty all the gold you have and bring it to us.

And, join our side to repent your sins of betraying the Dark Lord.

We will bring your son back safe and sound.

Send the money to ____ and come alone.

~~~~

L, M, S

Albus sighed in relief. "They just want money, that's easy, isn't it? We can pool in however much they want."

"That's not the issue. Think, Albus!" Draco snapped. "I would give them all the gold in the Malfoy vaults if it meant Scorpius was safe. But who's to say they won't comply once they have it?"

Albus frowned, thinking for a moment. "We have to try at least. L...M...S, who could they be?"

"And that's not all they want. They want me to join their side. To make up for my betrayal of Voldemort."

"You wouldn't." He said. "Nor would Scorpius. Let's bring the note to Jamie and Iris, see if they can decipher it. Maybe my dad can-"

"I have to."

"What?" Albus looked alarmed. His heart was pounding as he waited for Draco to explain himself.

"They don't just want money. Look at it closer," He pointed at the note. "If I refuse..."

"They won't tell us where he is?"

Draco's grey eyes were wide with fear. "Worse. They'll kill him."

~•~

Albus refused to rest until he found some sort of clue of Scorpius' whereabouts. Draco had reluctantly opted to stay at the manor, in case more ransom notes arrived.

His first instinct was to visit James and Iris. Iris was an accomplished Auror, and James...well he was good for moral support. Lily was off in Romania, so she wouldn't be much help.Then contact his parents who would help as well. His Aunt Hermione too. He'd want the entire Ministry of Magic to help rescue Scorpius.

"I'll send you a patronus if something happens." Draco vowed. He reached a hand to Albus' shoulder. "Please bring him back safely."

Albus nodded firmly. "I will."

He used Draco's fireplace, holding his breath as he traveled through the floo network. His mind flashed of Scorpius' sweet blue eyes and dimpled cheeks. Youthful but wise beyond his years. His first best friend.

Please be alright. Please.

He tumbled out of the fireplace in a heap of soot. He grunted, standing up, too determined to focus on the state of himself. Probably a mess, hair askew and clothes covered in dirt.

"Bloody hell, Al!" His sister in law; Iris exclaimed. "What are you-"

"Iris." He gasped. "I need your help."

"You better sit down then. You look a right state." She said, looking the antithesis of Albus. Neat, pristine and elegant with her dark hair down her shoulders. A book she had been reading was on the floor, no doubt thrown to the side after being startled by Al's unexpected entrance. Little Henry, still a toddler even dropped his blocks.

"Alligator!" Henry piped, pointing at Albus.

"Yes, sweetheart it's Uncle Alligator." Iris said softly. Henry seemed satisfied with that, and went back to his blocks.

"Thanks," Albus murmured, taking a seat as she gestured to him. She flicked her wand casually, and a charmed teapot started to whistle. "Where's-"

"Jim's with Jazzy, off practicing Quidditch." She explained, levitating the mug towards his shaky hands. Albus would have chuckled at the nickname, but felt too numb. "Right then, what's happened?"

He explained the entire situation, but it came out so weakly, it felt like he was vomiting. His stomach was queasy with anxiety.

"It's all my fault. I should have been with him, then it wouldn't have happened." He put his head in his hands.

"Stop it, Al. Listen to me very carefully, okay?" Iris said, after examining the letter. "It's in no way your fault. So stop moping, chin up, I'll help you out. We all will. James, Teddy, Harry, Hermione, my mum...everyone will help find Scorpius."

Albus stared at his tea, eyes watering. "I don't know." He whispered. "I don't..."

"Take a deep breath," She placed a gentle, comforting hand to his shoulder. "We will. I swear on it."

"I'm scared."

"I know. It'll be okay."

"You don't know that."

"You're right. I don't. But still I'm going to send an owl to everyone. We'll need as many people as possible to decipher this note."

"Are you sure you want to help out I mean with..." Albus gestured at her barely visible bump.

Iris narrowed her eyes sharply, summoning parchment. "Yes. I've made up the guest room by the way. You're staying here."

"I don't need to..."

"You are. I insist. You don't need to be alone tonight. And don't argue. You're no good if you're exhausted." She lifted Henry in her arms, bouncing him. "Now shoo, I've got to finish this one letter."

"Who else are you contacting?" Albus tilted his head.

"The second best Auror I know, the one who can help us find him and decipher any codes from these people."

"Don't leave me in suspense, Iris."

"You won't love it...but..."

"Iris." He pressed.

"It's Rose."

~•~

Rose. Rose Granger-Weasley was an enigma. They had gotten along as kids, played gobstones and quidditch for hours but as they grew older, things were awkward and distant. After school, they remained cordial. Still, if she was supposedly their only hope, he would (begrudgingly) comply.

"Hey there baby brother." James opened the guest room door. "Dinner's ready!"

"I'm not hungry." Albus said flatly. How could he possibly eat or rest or do anything when Scorpius was alone somewhere.

"Listen, I know you're worried about Scorpius..." James said. "But Rose is here, and she read the note. She has an idea."

"And? What is it?" He snapped.

"Hi Al." Rose poked her head from behind James.

"What do you want?"

"Nice to see you too, Albus." She said coolly. "My idea is...well, it really requires us both to work together."

Albus scowled.

"We have to give them the gold.” She said. “It’s the only way, for sure that they’ll bring Scorpius back.” 

“There’s no promise they’ll just hand him over!” Albus said. “Draco said, he said they might just be using it as a trick- to bait us.” 

“If they do turn on us, we’ll have a team of Aurors to fight against them. Iris, meanwhile since she’s-” 

Albus gestured vaguely to his midsection. “Pregnant.”

“We don’t want her going into a possible battle. I’m not putting her, or our baby at risk.” James said, his voice hoarse. 

“She’ll be doing research on these kidnappers. Find out as much information as she can.” Rose explained. “We could find out why exactly they want Scorpius. Why are they still hung up over a war that ended three decades ago.” 

“Because they’re insane?” Albus frowned. “Who cares why? They have him, and we have to get him back!”

“Think for once, Albus!” Rose said, and Albus felt his temper rising again. “Finding out the why gives us clues as to how to find him! I know you want to gallantly rescue him, but you have to think logically. We have to plan this out.” 

“While you’re planning this, he could be hurt or…” Albus gulped, refusing to say it. He knew they were all thinking it. “I’m not wasting time.” 

“While you’re both arguing,” James interrupted. “You’re wasting precious time. I think Rose is right. Draco brings the gold to them, they bring Scorpius. If they don’t, we’ve got our team to kick their arses until they cry.”  

“I wasn’t going to put it that way but…”

“Draco already wrote his response. Now all we need to do is find them.” 

Albus wasn’t too confident in this plan. It sounded deeply flawed. But, if this was the one way to get Scorpius back, he refused to argue anymore.

#fanfics #harry potter next gen #kidnapping #scorpius malfoy #Rose Granger Weasley #albus severus potter #ocs #james sirius x oc #so many ocs #angst