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#it makes me happy knowing that witches practice magic that isn’t a part of their tracks
halcyonwrld · 2 months
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— EVERLASTING PROMISE
PAIRING. Kim Dahyun x Fem!Reader
After a persistent princess tracks you down through meetings with a few of the local village’s herbalists, she has the gall to request your presence, in search of some of your more… magical pursuits. You set up a place and time just so she’ll leave you be, but find yourself waiting for her there out of pure curiosity. (1K)
TAGS. royal!au, fantasy!au, forced marriage, bittersweet angst, witch!reader who's just fed up with everything
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“You clean up nicer than I expected.”
With that, you set down your mug with a sour grimace, the fresh brew on your tongue going stale as your mood.
Muffled thunder rages overhead, nearly drowned out by a bout of laughter around you. You open your eyes. Take in the sight of dripping lashes, a neat collar around the throat, and squared shoulders— all fine until you notice a flash of silver rings as pale hands rise to adjust the neckline of a shoddy cloak.
“And you hardly know a thing about subtlety,” you snap in retort.
She was practically asking to get caught.
Dahyun gawps, stammering on her words, “Hey- if you must know, subtlety is practically my middle name! It just.. slipped my mind that it was meant to rain tonight, is all…” Her explanation goes flat under your unamused glare, her last sentence coming to a quiet, embarrassed drawl. You imagine her with feathers, all of them fluffing up as she tries to recover, leaning towards you to hiss, “I might’ve fared better if I didn’t have to abandon my horse to travel on foot. This terror hole is nearly impossible to find, it could’ve taken—”
You hold up your hand, stopping the princess dead in her tracks.
“Spare me the even bigger headache and make this quick, please.” You stifle a wince as the chatter in the tavern swells once more, rubbing at your temples. “There are things I have to tend to.”
“Fine. I need a love potion.”
You scowl. “No.”
“I knew you would-” her face drops, “wait, w- what do you mean no?”
You pick up your mug again to drown your laughter in ale. “It means it’s not happening, princess.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Or what? You’ll tell on me?”
Dahyun reaches her hand into her jacket, fear visibly seizing her into motionlessness as a subtle blue aura begins to dance around your fingertips. Your voice lowers considerably. “This isn’t your pretty little castle, sweetheart, no one’ll be answering your cries of distress if you try anything stupid.”
Under the faint haze of torchlight, Dahyun swallows.
Still, she pulls the object out of her coat pocket.
It’s just a scroll.
You ignore her trembling hands as she flattens the page onto the rickety oak in front of you. It's a lengthy thing. Written neatly in inks darker than nights like these. Your eyes skim back and forth.
These… these are papers for her marriage. If she wants them, this means—
Your heart plummets.
The silence on your end must make her anxious, her body practically vibrates as she blurts out, “I know- I know they’re illegal. But I need this.”
You swallow. “For you, or him?”
“Myself.”
You don’t know if that makes it better or worse.
“...Why would you marry someone you don’t love?” you ask, keeping your voice carefully measured. Not overconcerned, but not too careless either.
“If it’ll aid in my favor, I’ll have you know this wasn’t my decision either.”
The way she breaks your stare betrays her casualty about it all, but that doesn’t stop her from shrugging. Her lips purse. Brows furrow.
Like a flash of lightning, the moment is over as quick as it happened. Those dark eyes are back on you again. Her stare resolute. “But… everyone has a part to play.”
Everyone has a part to play.
Where have you heard that from before?
Shaking your head, you stand swiftly, taking your lantern in hand. “I’m sorry, but I’m not risking everything just so that you can live out your happy ending.”
And you leave.
Princess or not, it was silly for her to come to you. Everyone knew love potions were forbidden. Folktales and parables told countless stories about them. How they quickly turned love into obsession. Turned the simplest of men into something cruel. Nearly unfeeling.
Part of you couldn’t deny her courage, you supposed, but another part of you abhorred her presumptuousness. Immediately assuming you’d say yes. Approaching you in the first place. Saying she had an offer you couldn’t refuse. Like hell you couldn’t.
You’re a few feet from the backdoor when you hear her call.
Ignoring her, you step into the rain, letting the door shut behind you. Serves her right for wasting your time on a night like this, where the moon is full and the opportunity for harvest yields higher than usual.
“Wait!”
You're pulled back by your wrist.
“Please, I’ll give you anything you long for! Access back into the town, jewels, herbs, a spot in the castle, however much money it takes-”
You yank your arm away, glaring at her from underneath your hood. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”
“I know I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in misery!”
“Don’t we all,” you snark.
“Look, I know that my parents exiled you. But you should know better than anyone that not everyone happens to align with the likes of them or their ideals!” she yells over the rain. “I- I seriously want to change the way things are. But I need it to be perfect, anything but and you can bet someone just as bad as them will be sitting up on that throne! And they might do worse than banish and imprison.”
You stare at her with wide eyes, so shocked you speak before your brain even has time to catch up, “They teach you that in princess school?”
Dahyun crosses her arms with a pout, muttering, “That’s not a thing.”
You turn to hide your smile, “If you say so.”
You only get a few paces away to reenter the woods when you realize you don’t hear any movement behind you. Turning around, you find Dahyun still standing there. Her posture reeks of defeat. Shoulders slumped. Lantern dangling to the ground. Head low. All of the rain like a vicious fog, only adding to her somber image.
“You coming or not, princess?” you call.
Dahyun looks up with wide eyes, as if not having heard you the first time. Unable to take a win, it seems. You roll your eyes, lifting your lantern and gesturing with your head as if to say come on. The way her face lights up is a magic of its very own.
You turn back forward.
“We still have a lot to discuss, privately,” you say once she reaches your side, making sure your tone leaves no room for discussion. Not out here. Even the woods have ears.
“You won’t regret this, I promise,” she breathes out.
That makes you clench your jaw. The last time a royal promised you something, it’d ended in disaster.
After all, you would know best, since you were the first Kim Dahyun ever promised to marry.
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lfzyxf · 2 years
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Little witch part 2
The originals x reader
Word count: 1300
Part 1
Masterlist
"What are you talking about?” You squint your eyes. “A witch, like a person who can do actual magic?" Klaus sighs, his hands moving as he speaks. "Yes, you're a witch; a person who can do magic."
You lean back against the chair, there's nothing that made you wonder if you had magic. "How do you know?" you ask him. "A witch that powerful? someone's bound to notice my dear” he answers, a smirk forming on his lips.
You look up at his words, "powerful?" He smiles at your confused face "There are a few powerful witches’ bloodlines, your friend Bonnie belongs to one of them"
"Bonnie is a witch?" the vampire nods before continuing "your bloodline originated in Norway, the place my family was born. My mother was close friends with one of your ancestors, an incredible witch."
Klaus bends down, his finger tapping your nose "Because of that I need your help." You flinch away from him, looking at him incredulously “is that why you took me? You could’ve just asked.”
“Your friends won’t appreciate you helping me, they are the ones who got me in this mess in the first place” he explains. Smiling lightly, you ask “How about you untie me first and explain what happened?”
Klaus stares at you, seemingly trying to figure you out. A few moments pass before he sighs “fine” and begins to untie you. Slowly you bring your wrists to the front rubbing them carefully as you wait for him to explain.
He holds his hand out to you, reminding you of when you first met at the ball. How differently he appeared to you then versus now.
You let him pull you up, leading you to a spacious room. A sofa and a fireplace occupy most of the space. The man sits you at the couch before joining you, “My mother has recently returned to the land of the living.”
“She used a spell to bind me and my siblings together with the help of Elena Gilbert.” You stare at the fire as you think, his words sinking in. “Why did your mother bind you all together? What does she gain from doing so?”
“So, she can kill us.”
.
“What?” you squeaked. “My oldest brother is going to sacrifice himself, so we all die” he explains. “What you’re saying is your mother wants to kill you and your eldest brother is going to let her kill him so you all die?”
Klaus smiles at you “Exactly! So, you need to help me undo the spell so we can all live happily ever after.”
“Right… and how do I do this? I have no idea how to practice magic” you sigh. Standing up Klaus explains “Lucky for us we have a very powerful witch who is happy to help us!”
As soon as he finishes his sentence a man walks into the room, holding Bonnie by her hands as she struggles against his grip. “Y/n?” the girl looks at you surprised, “What are you doing with her, let her go!” she demands.
“Now Bonnie calm down, y/n is here to help. Isn’t that right” Klaus asks looking at you. “Yes,” you say holding his gaze “as long as you don’t hurt her.”
“No one is going to hurt anyone as long as everyone does exactly what I say,” he tells you, hands holding Bonnie’s shoulder making it obvious he’s talking about her. “Fine,” The witch sighs “how do we do this?”
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“So, you’re basically borrowing my powers?” You ask Bonnie. “Yes,” she takes your hands “witches can channel each other’s energy when doing a spell” she explains.
“And you need to channel my power why?” Bonnie points at the spell book in front of the two of you. “The spell I need to perform to unlink the bond demands a lot of power. You come from a powerful bloodline which should be enough to unlink Klaus from his siblings.”
“Come on girls, we don’t have all day” Klaus nags. Bonnie rolls her eyes before focusing on the spell book again. Holding your hands tightly she begins chanting. The blood laid out on the table moving away from each other, separating into 5 different puddles.
You feel drained when Bonnie lets go of you. Klaus’ hand rests on the small of your back, supporting you. Looking at the girl next to you, you notice the torn look on her face. She almost looks ashamed of herself for helping Klaus, undoing the work of Elena and Klaus’ mother.
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“Aw leaving so soon?” Rebekah says, cleaning her hands with a towel. ‘Sister, be nice” Klaus smiles as he walks up to her, hands on both your and Bonnie’s back.
“Thank you, Bonnie,” she smiles “see you in Physics class.” Before you can see what’s inside the room behind her, Rebekah leads you away. Her arm in yours as she brings you to a bedroom.
“You’re welcome to stay here, with your friends trying to kill us it might be dangerous being alone.” You sigh as you move to sit on the edge of the bed, “Not my friends,” you point at her “I only talk to Bonnie and Caroline.”
“Right, the blonde girl who seems to have taken a liking to my brother.” A look of disgust forms on Rebekah’s face. “I much prefer you, you know” she winks at you, walking towards the closet.
“There are some clothes in here, I’m sure some will fit you. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” Her hand comes up to smoothen your hair before she leaves the room.
It takes you a while to look around the room, your mind a mess after everything that happened today. You slowly stand up before moving towards the wardrobe Rebekah spoke of earlier. Opening the doors, you are met with a wide range of different clothes in different sizes. Grabbing the most comfortable outfit you see; you lock the door before getting changed.
After having freshened up, you walk downstairs hoping to talk to either of the Mikaelson’s siblings.
“I can’t believe Finn is dead” you hear Rebekah say. “Good riddance,” Klaus sighs “he was an embarrassment, Rebekah.” You move towards the entrance of the room, still unnoticed by both siblings.
“He was still your brother. Mind your tongue.” Not looking up Klaus continues “Fine. Let’s all say a prayer for Finn who slept longer in a box than he lived as a man.” He looks at his sister, continuing “he was a lovesick fool. He’s better off in death.”
Walking up to him, Rebekah asked “Is that how you would speak of me if I died”
“Well, you let the Salvatore’s loose with two stakes that can kill us. So, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” He continues, “and since when did you have a soft spot for them?”
“The Salvatore’s may fight like dogs, but in the end, they would die for each other.” She explains, “at least they know what family means. You destroyed ours.”
“I wanted a family,” Klaus says. “They just didn’t want me. And now we’re unlinked. We’re no longer responsible for each other.”
“So, are you leaving?” Rebekah sighs. “As soon as I get the stakes I’m gone. I’m going to take Elena and use her blood to create a new family of hybrids” Klaus answered.
“And if I choose to stay?” Rebekah croaked.
“Then you’re just as pathetic as Finn.”
Klaus turns to walk away before he sees you. He walks toward you, grabbing your hand, taking you with him.
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girl4music · 8 months
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Something else I want to note about Willow and Tara’s confrontation in ‘Tabula Rasa’ is that Tara tells Willow - rightly so - that what Willow did to her was akin to what Glory did to her as far as violation levels go. Accurate somewhat because the emotional and/or mental state is still being altered and therefore mental and bodily autonomy is taken away with both.
But I would rather say (and this is why it’s so bloody horrific for me) that what Willow did to her was actually more akin to what Tara’s “family” did to her. See - Tara’s father made up a lie based on a family legend of the women in their family being witches that Tara was part-demon or would turn part-demon at the turn of 20 years old. He says that the magic Tara has or can do is rooted in that fact. It obviously was a form of gaslighting to try to convince Tara that she was or would be an evil demon because it wasn’t the reality and wouldn’t be. Tara spent her whole life up until the climax of the episode ‘Family’ believing that she was something other than human and something more than just a witch (which isn’t necessarily non-human). Glory never attempts to gaslight Tara to believe anything. The act of “brain-sucking” her gives her the gaslighting effect anyway because Tara was made to believe that she was bad for feeling the way she does. Which - at that point - was crazy, i.e. mentally ill. Not able to distinguish between what was reality and imaginary or at least could no longer really understand the difference as if she was a 2 year old. But the intention in itself was not to gaslight. It was just to harm psychologically because Glory is an actual evil demoness. That of which Tara was terrified of not just because Glory is able to brain-suck people, but also because she represents something Tara has spent practically her whole life believing she would be.
See Tara is so terrified of and is effected the way she is by Glory brain-sucking her because she’s already essentially lived what that would do to her emotionally. Cut her off from the relative safety and security of being aware of herself and her abilities. This is what her “family” originally did to her. Gaslight her into thinking she wasn’t what or who she really was. First of all, human. Second of all, a witch. And what Willow does in making Tara forget their fights about her using too much magic by using magic… is essentially gaslighting Tara to believe they’re all good. That nothing bad is happening between them. That there is no conflict, no issues to sort out, no worries, and certainly no abuse - either of her or of magic. In Willow’s head, she considers a magic mind-trip a fix for their relationship breaking down over their unresolved differences. A reconciliation in a sense. Even though Tara has not come to that decision on her own. Even though Tara is not aware that there needs to be one. It’s not stated but Tara is essentially mentally forced to believe that everything is completely a-okay. They’re happy, they’re in love, they’re on equal terms. In what we see as Willow erasing Tara’s memories of one fight actually has much more serious implications because there is emotional stimulus being altered and mental and bodily autonomy being disregarded or taken away.
Essentially, Tara is experiencing the Glory situation and the ‘Family’ situation all at the same time. Tara is lied to about her relationship status with Willow not by Willow simply telling her it’s all good. But by Willow mentally forcing Tara to believe that it is through mental inebriation. And this all occurs simply by saying the word “forget” and waving her hand over a bramble flower. Most, if not all, of the following chaos for the couple are the consequences to just enacting a memory erasure spell one time - of that we know of because it’s not just about missing a memory. It’s about altering the mentality and emotions of the individual that has already made it pretty damn clear what they think and how they feel about a conflict that you have obstructed that individual from accessing.
I know I go on and on about this situation and you’re all probably like “Geez change your tune already. It’s not like Willow is the only one that uses magic to get her way”… It’s true. She’s not. But there’s a distinct difference in that the others that do only do it the once and never attempt anything like it again OR are bad guys - who you would expect it from anyway. We are lumping in Jonathan and Amy and Faith in predominantly the “bad guy” category right? I know they’re also several shades of morally grey as well but for the most part - they’re bad people doing bad things. They’re not our main protagonists/heroes like Buffy and Willow and Xander and Giles is. They’re not necessarily expected to have any character development as far as differences in morality although they all do - which again, makes the BUFFYVERSE leagues better than most TV shows of the current visual art/entertainment paradigm which don’t give recurring characters much development, if any at all.
Willow is, for the most part, someone you would expect to grow in morality the more you see her, the more you interact and engage with her on the screen. Someone you would expect would learn from their mistakes and would have some awareness of their flaws enough to make changes. Someone who would possess emotional maturity and intelligence as well as the vast academic and mental intelligence she starts off with. There is much more cause for concern with her than there ever is for the recurring characters. Especially when it seems that the people Willow hurts the most are the people that she claims to love the most and she doesn’t have a “soulless” excuse for it. And don’t get me wrong - I love talking about all of this and debating and deconstructing her very compelling character arc. But at the same time it is very concerning and I do wonder how she even stayed alive in the end because aside from written plot armor, she was primed for death as potentially the one core Scooby that would never make endgame. It was either going to be her or Xander but for opposite reasons.
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skyalent · 4 months
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Witches Can Be Good | Supernatural x Scarlet Witch! Reader - Part 3
Warning: Angst
Happy New Year everyone… although kinda late. I’m not gonna lie I totally forgot about this until I finally logged into Quotev and got notifications on people commenting for part 3. I’m so sorry TwT RisaIceCreamPudding and Arabella from Quotev… but also thank you for reminding me <3
Also do you guys want me to make a masterlist? I don't expect this series to be too long, but if you'd like it, I can make it. Or a taglist. Just let me know with a comment!
Part 1 *~* Part 2 *~* Part 3 (You are here) *~* Part 4???
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Part 3: ...Goodbye?
The brothers were acting strange and Y/n knew it. She didn’t know why because she didn’t want to pry into their minds, but she did make subtle attempts to make them open up to her. Nothing was working so far. 
Meanwhile the brothers were full of all kinds of thoughts. After Sam deemed the DVDs safe and normal they watched the movies together while they sent Y/n out on a solo ghost hunt. 
Dean’s mind was blown over and over again. One, Y/n’s real name was Wanda and was part of the avengers!? Which was pretty damn cool especially with how hot she looked back then (and she only got hotter as she got older). But then both him and Sam found out about Y/n lover. Vision, a robot, but he reminded them of Castiel, as both were learning how to act human. 
While watching they felt like they were intruding in that moment. The way the two confided to each other… Dean wasn’t one for chick flick moments but he could tell that these two were utterly in love with each other. 
But then they witnessed the pain Y/n went through, practically losing everything. She lost her brother, her twin- a mute scream emphasizing her pain. Dean and Sam could relate, having lost each other more times than they could count.
She lost Vision to Thanos, the ugly wrinkled grape that both brothers just wanted to beat up in order to never see Y/n look that upset again. 
Then she herself died, her face oddly calm as she dusted away. But Sam understood. At that point, Y/n thought she had lost everything and had nothing left to live for. Her thoughts were probably along the lines of, at least I’ll be with my brother and Vision.
Coming back to life 5 years later, Y/n was understandably angry as she unleashed her anger on Thanos. But after that Y/n was lost. 
Her brother, gone. Her lover, gone. And as she came back to life she learned that her sister figure, Natasha, was gone too. 
Maybe that’s why they could only sympathize and understand as they watched WandaVision that for once in her life Y/n just wanted to be normal and happy. 
It was quite weird to watch Y/n magically give birth to two twin boys, but they couldn’t deny the amount of love Y/n had for her family. 
And then… 
“Dean isn’t that the witch that gave us the DVDs?” 
Agatha Harkness. Now the brothers knew that the witch could not be trusted based on the way she treated Y/n. 
The next time they see her, Dean isn’t going to hesitate in shooting his gun. 
But then onto Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness… 
“LIKE DUDE WHAT THE F*CK!?” 
First off, Y/n was hot. As in, slay b!tch, get it kinda hot. And she was kinda evil. 
“But think about it.” Sam pointed out, “She just lost her children, who she had for like, a couple days, she lost her husband- although I can see that she’s accepted his death by now. At this point Y/n is just desperate for her family, for love, for normality.” 
Sam wasn’t ashamed to say he was balling tears by the end of the movie. Obviously, Y/n wasn’t dead, but she had gone through so much that it left one question in their minds. 
Does Y/n… still want that normality? 
Because even if the Winchester brothers hated the thought of getting rid of Y/n from their lives, Y/n would never get to live a normal life while being friends with them. She would be stuck in a hunter’s life.  
“We should let her go…” Dean said blankly after a few minutes of silence. 
“Dean-”
“No, I’ve thought this through. That life she wanted. Sam, she’ll never be able to get that with us. Didn’t you see how happy she was with her family? I admit it was kinda f*cked up, but now she has another chance at it again. We can give her that chance again.”
Sam contemplated it, though Dean could see his resolve breaking. 
The Winchester brothers were going to let Y/n go.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The brothers had driven Y/n far from the bunker after telling her they were going on a trip. After parking into a driveway, they stepped out, a confused Y/n following after.
“Wait, what’s going on? Why-” 
“Y/n what we do is extremely dangerous, and it’s only going to get more dangerous from here on out.”
“Dean, I know that already. Why do you think I’m here? To protect you guys because-” Y/n attempted to explain but was cut off by Sam. 
“We can’t be associated with witches Y/n. All the hunters know who we are. Once they figure out what you are, even more people will be out to kill us, on top of the supernatural.” 
“Alright I’m calling BS-”
“Sorry, Y/n. But please, this will be so much better for you. We even paid for this house and everything. Don’t worry about it, please.” Dean opened the trunk and took out Y/n’s suitcase, rolling it to the door and passing the house keys to Y/n.
“But guys you’d be even safer if-”
“If you stayed here.” Dean sternly said to Y/n, looking directly into her eyes. She swallowed, her mouth feeling dry. “We don’t need a witch helping us.” 
Frozen, Y/n could only watch as the brothers got back into the Impala and drove away into the distance. Heart broken, tears uncontrollably ran down her face as she wept.
“...but you guys are my family…”
So... Part 4???
< Previous *~* Next >
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o-a-crutchfeild · 1 year
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Tale of the Witch Bourgeois
@mlsecretsanta fic for @hpeveryonelives! Merry Christmas!
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Stories were never written fairly. At least, that was what Chloe’s mother had always told her, and what she told the trail of frogs and gargoyles and beasts she left in her wake. Everyone liked to pretend that fairytales all had happy endings, but the truth was a much less pleasant creature. The truth was that, at the end of Aurora’s fairytale, all the servants lost their families outside the castle walls, a hundred years parting them forever, so that the Princess wouldn’t have to bear the same pain. The truth was that while Cinderella’s stepsisters were disfigured after their cruelty towards her, the stepmother who raised them to be as such walked away with the money and home, all the same. The truth was that fortune favored the same people as royalty. If those were pretty, pure-of-heart damsels, or spoilt princesses who had the world stopped to spare them heartbreak, it was all the same. Someone won, someone lost, and the witch was only punished if she was caught. 
As a witch herself, Chloe had been careful to learn the ways of stories, and stay on the good side of King Gabriel and his son. As long as she didn’t interfere with their affairs, she would be considered a fairy by most people. Her golden hair helped with that image, of course, long blond curls that cascaded over her shoulders when it wasn’t tied back for her spellcasting. Most people thought of witches as old, ugly hags with bent shoulders and crooked noses. Still, the magic in her blood was fed just as readily as any other witch’s, boldened by suffering and stolen life and humanity. 
It was not part of her plan to be called on by a heroine. 
The knock at the door came on a beautiful night. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and in the forest where she made her home, you could see every star. None, however, shone as brightly as the blue eyes of the girl who called upon her. 
“I need your help, please,” the girl said. Not so much as a “How are you?” or even a “Nice night, isn’t it?” before the demands started. How naive. Even if one was dealing with a fairy, manners were tantamount. 
She stepped closer to the girl. “What have you brought me, in exchange for my trouble?” 
The girl seemed a bit surprised by this question. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t know I was supposed to bring something…” 
“Well, then, why don’t you come in?” Chloe asked, a smile crossing her face. “I’m sure we can work something out. I could always take a service, rather than an object, if that would be agreeable to you.” This girl was young, beautiful, and absolutely radiating purity. To trap her into a familiar contract… Chloe’s mouth watered at the idea of how much power she could drain from her. “We can discuss details later.” 
The girl looked relieved, and stepped into her home. “Oh, thank you! Adrien said you were a friend, but I didn’t know if I believed him.” 
Chloe froze at the name. Adrien. The King’s son, the crown Prince. A chill ran down her spine, as she began altering the plan in her mind. In her greed for power, she’d just tripped right into the middle of a story. 
Not noticing the shift in Chloe’s demeanor, the girl continued on with her story. “We’re in love, you see. We met at a masquerade ball, but his father says he can only marry a Princess. My father is a baker, not a King.”
“That does pose a conundrum,” Chloe said flatly. Oh, perfect, another Cinderella. If she screwed this girl over, that would set her up as the villain, and if she knew Adrien, he was the type to come after her with a flaming sword to protect his beloved. She hadn’t planned to play fairy godmother–or godsister, because really this girl was practically the same age as she was–to a starry-eyed heroine, but if it kept her far away from any hot iron shoes or eyeball-eating birds… “What do you expect me to do about it?” 
The girl looked up at her, a little confused. “Well… make me a Princess. Right? That’s what Adrien said you would do.” 
Chloe stared at the girl for a long moment, before bursting into laughter. How ridiculous! Just… utterly ridiculous! Make her a Princess? “What exactly am I supposed to do?” she demanded. “Just magic up a whole new country and citizens and insert you as ruler? On what land? Or perhaps you want me to create a whole island for you too?” She shook her head. “Or no, we could send your baker father to war with another King, have him take over and install martial law! Yes, that will certainly go over well, a man with no military experience up against a full army. Or perhaps you thought I could turn mice into soldiers for more than a few hours? Come back when you’ve thought your request through properly and come up with something I can actually do.” She tossed her hand, and a wind blew the front door open. 
“But that boy in Arabia…”
“That was a genie. Significant power difference.” Chloe smirked, relaxing into her favorite chair, crossing her legs. A way out! She could be unhelpful, she figured. That was allowed. If she truly couldn’t do what this girl asked–and really, she doubted she could–then the story was unlikely to punish her for it. Or more accurately, Adrien was unlikely to punish her for it. She could close the door after this girl, pretend this had never happened, and be back to turning people into frogs by dawn. 
The only issue was that the girl did not appear to be leaving. 
“There has to be something you can do to help me. I don’t have to be a real Princess, I just have to convince King Gabriel that I am for long enough for Adrien and me to be married,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Please, good fairy! Help us!” 
Chloe sighed, rubbing her forehead. “And Adrien’s signed off on this deception?” she asked. “I don’t know if it would be prudent for me to involve myself in a clash between royalty…” 
The girl knelt on the ground, looking up at Chloe with the sweetest puppy-dog eyes that she’d ever seen. “Please, good fairy. He loves me, truly, and I love him. Can’t you take pity on us? I’ll do anything you ask.” 
Chloe paused at that. Anything, hmm? A smile began to spread across her lips. Well, that did change things. A vow of “anything” from a woman who might someday be Queen. That was truly valuable. In fact… if she played this right… perhaps, one day, she would see her own blood on the throne. “Anything, you say? Very well. I can provide you the deception you seek. Someday, though, I will call in the favor. Is that agreeable to you?” 
The girl lept to her feet, and threw her arms around Chloe, delighted. “Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!” 
“Come to me when you have need of an alter ego. I will dress you in starlight and shadow, make you a carriage of the forest leaves and attendants of the beetles and bees,” Chloe promised. “But these spells will not last past the dawn, when all the woods must return to their daylight selves.” 
“I’ll come to you tomorrow evening,” the girl vowed. 
“One last thing, before you leave,” Chole said, frowning. “What is your name?” 
The girl smiled, ever so sweetly. “It’s Marinette.” 
“No. For every night that you’re spelled, you will be Princess Ladybug.”
… 
That day, as Chloe rested, her mind was racing as she made plans. The false Princess being installed on the throne was risky. Then again, this whole plan was risky. She couldn’t just demand that their child be betrothed to hers. That would cast her as the villain for certain, and the marriage would never go through. Even if the bargain was made willingly now, she’d learned from Rumplestiltskin that royals had a way of wriggling out of their deals, if they didn’t like them very much. No, this would need a deft touch. Perhaps asking for the children to be raised in tandem, with the plan being that a romance would bloom naturally? Of course, that was trusting much of it to luck, something that, in stories, rarely showed up when it ought to. Still, it was too great an opportunity to pass up. If she could become a royal, then the story would bend to her… and her child, of course. 
She would find a way. First, though, she had to figure out the best way to trick the King into believing in Princess Ladybug. 
As the witch gave herself over to sleep, she did not dream about starry eyes, or bright smiles. She dreamed of nothing at all, except the power that awaited her at the end of the story she’d found herself launched into.
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i watched the new episode of the owl house . i am not okay (spoilers under the cut)
-opening scene broke me just as much as it did at the end of season 2
-CAMILA SOBBING WHILE HOLIDING LUZ WAHHHH
-gus using magic to help with chores slay
-luz and hunter my traumatized babies :(
-“who knows if we will ever figure that out” luz ur such a bad liar
-camila just taking them all in and saying they’re safe 😭😭😭
-GUS FREAKING OUT OVER HUMAN STUFF AS WE DESERVE
-AMITY AND WILLOW BREAKING THE ALARM CLOCK LMAO PLS
-this intro is so cute that has to be noted
-i’m excited for willow’s photographer era i need her to be a vsco girl
-THEYRE PRACTICING SPANISH 🥺
-camila is a milf idc she has style
-making fun of duolingo pls
-“i never expected to be a mother of six”
-their new fits SLAYYYY
-amity being worried that “camila can’t take care of them forever” makes me so :(((
-they’re all besties they’re found family i’m crying
-luz’s main character moment in class is kinda making me giggle ngl why is she standing on a desk <- it’s because she’s traumatized
-camila wishing she could make them “demon food” wahhhh
-the deer that wasn’t a deer…
-hunter sewing and loving wolves and being happy and having a real smile and gus saying it’s good to see you happy and “one of us might as well be” and i’m gonna die
-“humans like spreading their junk everywhere” LMAO SO TRUE GUS
-gus’ nerd shrine <3
-the fact they basically added two beds to luz’s room for the girls 😭 wahhhh 😭
-camila dreaming about all the times she had to defend luz and the reality check camp…… :(
-mom why aren’t you mad at me” 🥺
-luz sleeping in camila’s bed and the bi “love” bracelet and also camila in pajamas makes her more of a milf idc
-okay once again their outfits slay
-hunter being a nerd with gus pls
-“hunter i don’t think the world is ready for the brave fashion choices of the year 2008” “DON’T listen to her”
-hunter’s blush when willow winks 😭
-HUNTER IS SOOO 🥺🥺🥺🥺
-aw the way they all cover their ears
-LMAO WILLOW SWEETIE THAT ISNT HUMAN MONEY
-i love how they hate giraffes so much
-vee has a crushhhhh… hehe
-masha’s pronouns on their name tag <333
-SLAY WILLOW WITH YOUR SCRAPBOOK
-the hooty and king masks i luv them
-luz and hunter why would you go down there ALONEEEEE
-let it all out hunter my special lil baby i love you :(
-AW IT WAS CAMILA’S NERD SHRINE LOL
-luz’s video diary is breaking my heart
-omg their costumes are so good wtf i wish i was that good at costumes 🙄✋🏼
-not that crazy middle aged asshole again
-BELOS WHY ARE YOU EVERYWHERE WBAT DO YOU MEAN HES PART OF THE HISTORY IN THIS TOWN
-the way masha definitely thinks this is a fake silly story and all the kids are ready to shit themselves bc none of it is fake
-hunter yelling at flapjack nooooo :(
-camila finding luz’s video diary
-OHHHH LUZ’S DAD LEFT HER GOOD WITCH AZURA 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
-okay luz slay that magic
-this isn’t hunter i can tell this isn’t hunter this isn’t him oh my god it’s belos it’s belos i can TELL
-FUCK FUCK FUCK THIS SCENE
-these poor kids :((((((
-HE HURT FLAPJACK WHAT THE FUCK BELOS
-hunter is coming out to fight omg omg omg
-CAMILA JUMPING IN AFTER HUNTER JESUS CHRIST IM LOSING MY SHIT RN
-SHE GOT BELOS OUT OF HIM BLESS
-flapjack sacrificed himself for hunter i’m cwying :(
-camila calling hunter baby :(
-OH MY GOD WHEN LUZ WAS ABOUT TO SAY SHE HAD TO STAY AND CAMILA JUMPED IN AND SAID “TAKE YOUR MAMA TO THE DEMON REALM” I LOVE HER WORLDS BEST MOM AND I MEAN THAT
-THEYRE GOING INTO THE PORTAL SCREAM
-willow: thanks for the memories
me: fall out boy reference 😩
-vee’s gonna cover for camila that’s so cute to me
-i literally wanna sob camila is the best parent ever i love this show so much im CRYING
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A Dying Fire - Chapter 1
Bella x Jacob | AU - Post-Apocalypse, AU - Fantasy, witch!Bella, BPOV Chapter Word Count: 2,824 | Rating: M/18+ Chapter Content Warning: none Story Content Warning: Violence, sexually explicit scenes, kidnapping Summary: Growing up in a dangerous, ruined world, the only things Bella Swan has ever trusted are her life with her mother and the meager bits of magic she can perform around their house. The confines of her life hurt her sometimes, but she realized long ago that there's nothing she can do about it. How could she ever find someone to mentor her in magic when that would mean sacrificing her domestic responsibilities? How could she allow herself to truly fall for the only man she's ever loved if it meant leaving home forever? When Bella is hit with a sudden chance to see the world and use her magic for good, what lengths will she go to to prove herself? When she is pushed to her limit, what kind of witch will Bella become? A/N: Well... what started out as a one-shot with a little too much lore to explain has now become a duology of several thousand words. I've been very excited to share this story after a few weeks of planning and drafting. I'll post chapter two on Wednesday and a new chapter will be posted every other Wednesday after that until all eight chapters are up. If you enjoy this first chapter, please please please let me know! It really means a lot when I get feedback from readers. Happy reading! 💘🔥
Read on AO3
‧₊˚✧┈. *₊˚
Excerpt below
If I know anything about magic, it is that it requires true, singular focus. I press my hands into the dirt of my garden, my fingertips digging in until my nails disappear, and I cast my touch beneath the earth. I search for the maple tree’s roots. It recently left its adolescent phase, winter-bare like the other deciduous trees surrounding it, but I don’t think it’s growing anymore. I stare hard at its smooth, gray-brown trunk as I focus, willing my touch to reach those tender subterranean veins. I imagine it will be like checking a pulse. I hope it’s exactly like that, for my sake. I need to practice my stronger spells on something, but I refuse to harm a living tree. This world can’t afford it.
Tendrils of my magic snake through the soil, and like always they go in any direction they choose. I can feel the root systems of my lettuce and potatoes, growing strong in neat, modest rows behind me. I feel each plant sucking up water and nutrients in their fragile capillaries.
I stare harder at the tree, my unwitting adversary, and dig my fingers deeper, forward. Nothing. Just soil.
Maybe I’m too far back from the tree. It has to be more than twenty feet tall, and when I picture bringing it down, I can only imagine pulling toward myself, so I want to give it enough room to land at my feet. Maybe I just need to get closer.
And yet, I thought maples had wide root systems. Maybe I was wrong.
‘Maybe’ is starting to become a very unpleasant word for me.
This would be easier if I had a mentor, I think ruefully, and a familiar ache blooms in my chest. But now isn’t the time to berate myself.
I unearth my heads, clapping the dirt off of them, and get a few paces toward the tree. Then I dig in again, the short grass irritating my palms.
This time, the tendrils brush against something new, something stringy. I eagerly push my hands deeper. I even curl my index finger as if to wrap it around the thing. It is one of the maple’s farthest roots, closer to the tree than I expected it to be. As I cradle it, I can’t feel it draw in the sustenance around it. No movement. No life.
“Okay, okay, okay,” I mumble to myself, a grin growing on my face. Now it’s time to do some real magic.
I stumble back a couple of steps, getting into position. I kick off my shoes and take a sturdy stance — I don’t know if feeling the dirt is necessary for this part, but I know staying upright will be.
A gentle breeze rustles the woods around me. Birdcalls make the air feel alive. Though I know home is only a few yards away, concealed by some trees and ferns, I feel alone in the world. It’s a peaceful feeling, as if the earth is cradling me. As if I grew from it. In many ways, I have.
With renewed confidence, I stare the maple down. If it’s not dead yet, it will die soon enough. It stands in a suspended life-state now, a twilight existence.
“I have you,” I whisper as I raise my dirt-covered hands.
Read the rest on AO3
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mimi-croissant · 2 years
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I adore Edric now he is wonderful I love the twins
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thefreakishmuffin · 3 years
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Let’s examine the dynamic between Hunter and Luz, Part 2
Whoop this is gonna be a long one as well...
Note that some of this may drift a little bit away from analyzing solely Hunter and Luz’s dynamic, but I promise I’ll always circle back to it.
Link to part 1 is right here
Last we left off, Luz and Hunter have decided to join forces in a truce to thwart Kikimora’s plans to give Emperor Belos the palismen herself. On a wall, Luz draws a fire glyph and an ice glyph and connects them together. Intrigued, Hunter states that he’s never seen a spell like this before, and asks what it will do. Luz begins explaining how it’ll work, only for Hunter to pick up on what she’s doing halfway through and finish the explanation for her. Luz looks at him, thoroughly surprised that he has such knowledge.
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Hunter apologizes for interrupting and states that he read about a similar spell in a book about Wild Magic, which happens to be a book Luz has read as well. Hunter seems surprised in turn when realizing him and Luz share a common interest in Wild Magic. He starts to have what I call a “nerd moment”, where he’s starting to get really excited about what he’s talking about. He mentions that these glyphs look very similar to magic that was once practiced back in the Savage Ages. He seems almost thrilled to be talking to someone else who’s interested in Wild Magic, which is something he can’t talk freely about in the Emperors Coven, lest he receive abuse from Belos. 
However, his smile fades and he cuts himself off, saying that information on Wild Magic is restricted for a reason, and that Luz ought to stop messing around with it before she gets hurt. 
And here is something that strikes me as interesting; Hunter’s family is supposedly gone because of Wild Magic. So if that’s the case, then why is he so fascinated with Wild Magic himself, to the point where it’s something he even greatly enjoys studying and talking about? I can’t really think of any other good reason for this, other than the idea that when Belos mentioned their family, he was really talking about his own family, since it’s alluded that Hunter was likely “adopted” to Belos’ family in a way.
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After Hunter tells Luz to stop messing with Wild Magic, Luz tells him that, outside of Lilith, she’s never talked to anyone from the Emperors Coven before. And asks what made him want to join? Hunter looks genuinely surprised. It doesn’t seem like he’s ever been asked this question before. Looking away from Luz, perhaps in a sense of shame, he admits that he’s a powerless witch, and that most of his ancestors were. He never felt like he’d ever have a future in their world. That is until Belos found him and took him in, and gave him a staff with artificial magic, telling Hunter that the Titan had “big plans” for him. 
Let’s go over a little analysis here. Hunter says that Belos found him. This is the statement that leads many of us to believe that the two of them aren’t actually blood-related. However, to me it still seems odd that Hunter would call Belos his uncle. Perhaps Belos wanted Hunter to call him uncle? Maybe, but it still seems odd to me for Belos to take in this random young boy as his family. Especially when Belos refers to their family as being the same thing. Part of me believes that perhaps Belos is his biological uncle, but he was estranged from the family. Either way, it’s an interesting bit. 
And we also have a better understanding as to why Hunter stays in the Emperor’s Coven (besides everything I went over in my post analyzing his dynamic with Emperor Belos). The Emperor gave him a purpose in his life, giving him magic when he never had any. Giving him a title, and making him important. This all likely seemed wonderful to Hunter at first, but as we see later on it comes with a definite price. 
Alright back to Hunter’s dynamic with Luz...
Luz listens to what Hunter has to say, and she sits beside him saying, “It must be nice to have your future planned out for you.” To which Hunter responds, “At least you get to plan your own.” It’s this exchange right here that really shows how Hunter feels about his situation. He wants to be free to decide what he wants to do with his life, but he’s now found himself bound to the Emperor’s Cult Coven, tied to a future he’s not sure he even wants. More than anything, Hunter wants to be free. This is the deepest desire of his heart.
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And how do I know this? Because right after he speaks right here, Little Rascal, the red cardinal palisman, shows up and comes right to him. Palisman are drawn toward like-minded souls, and the palisman at Hexside chose someone after they shared their deepest wish. This palisman wants freedom, just like Hunter, and this is why he chooses to become his palisman at the end of the episode. (Not to mention Rascal was trying to run away and ‘be free’ at the beginning of the episode).
Okay, again, back to Hunter and Luz’s dynamic...
After their little conversation, Luz and Hunter team up and Luz prepares to cast the spell. Tough hesitant at first, gives Hunter his staff. He asks if she’s sure, and she puts her trust in him. He takes back his staff and Luz activates the glyphs. The plan goes well and Kikimora’s hand dragon falls from the sky, both with her and the palismen as well. But as soon as Luz goes to make sure the palismen are okay, Hunter is ready to betray her, activating his staff and pointing it right at her. 
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Luz, however, isn’t angry with him. She’s clearly not happy with him here, but she’s not angry. But rather hurt and disappointed. She asks Hunter if he’s really willing to give up innocents to Belos. Luz then delivers this important and impactful line to Hunter: “I thought that maybe you were a good guy. But I guess I was wrong. You’re not my friend. You’re just the Golden Guard.”
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That last comment seems to deeply hurt him. The idea of just being the Golden Guard and losing himself to that false identity is a scary thing for him to think about. So, in that moment, he lowers his staff, removes his mask, and finally reveals his true name to Luz. Hunter did this because he finally got to connect with someone for probably the first time in his life. And I mean really connect with someone. He was starting to feel like someone saw him for him, and not the Golden Guard. So when Luz said that he’s just the Golden Guard, he was hurt, and immediately decided to try and change that. he didn’t want the one person he’s been able to connect with to know him as a title. He wanted her to know him as a person. And what better way to do that than start by telling someone your name?
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Luz gasps when Hunter reveals to her his real name. But why? Was it because she saw the good in him, and maybe thought he was having a change of heart? Or was it because he was suddenly sharing such a personal piece of himself? I’m not quite sure on that part. 
But this moment is cut short when a very disoriented Kikimora tries to attack Luz and Hunter. Hunter is quick to defend Luz, once again showing great fighting skill, and allows a now conflicted and troubled Luz to get away. Both of them are now not sure what to make of the other. Are they friends now? Are they still enemies? Neither one of them seems entirely sure. 
And the last bit I want to touch upon here is how at the end of the episode where Kikimora asks Hunter how he survived the ship crash. He simply tells her he was helped by local travelers. Notice how he consciously chooses not to rat out Luz. Just a few hours ago he was ready to arrest her and even threatened her life, but now he’s making an effort to defend and keep her safe. 
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These two characters are some of the most interesting in the entire series so far, and the dynamic between these two is only going to get more and more interesting the more time goes on, and the more often they are able to meet.
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free-pool-trash · 3 years
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x of swords - george weasley
part one of three
Summary: Growing up as Harry’s neighbor, you always believed that you were completely regular. In an attempt to feel closer to Harry (your best friend) you begin to dabble in the art of divination and, in the process, you uncover magic that you didn’t know you had. (i hate doing summaries this does not sum it up but you get the jist)
Relationships: George Weasley x Reader, platonic!Harry Potter x Reader, platonic!OC x Reader, platonic!Sirius Black x Reader, platonic!Remus Lupin x Reader, platonic!Fred Weasley x Reader, platonic!Nymphadora Tonks x Reader, platonic!Molly Weasley x Reader, platonic!Hermoine Granger x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin
Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, fluff, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of death (let me know if I missed anything!)
Word count: 22.9k 
so here it is 😏 i was going to wait until i was completely finished with this to post it but i didn’t wanna rush it and oh my god it’s already so long  😫 I’m moving to Edinburgh in 2 weeks so i won’t be able to write as i have so much to pack so i hope this keeps some of you happy for a while <3 obviously i put a lot of effort into this and spent a lot of time on it so i really hope yall like it and i will personally kiss everyone who comments. likes or reblogs <3
mastelist
Life on Privet Drive was definitely something- something being incredibly boring. Nothing even remotely exciting happened on the street and the company was, to put it simply, miserable.
You’d lived in 5 Privet Drive since birth which, unfortunately for you, meant that your family are extremely close with the Dursleys who live next door. The Dursleys are a family of bigoted, pig-headed bullies. Made up of Petunia, Vernon, Dudley and, in your opinion the only tolerable one, Harry.
From the age of five, Harry had been your only friend on the street and vice versa. Initially, the both of you had bonded over your dislike of Dudley but as the years rolled on Harry and yourself had become virtually inseparable.
It was certainly strange- how close your parents were with Petunia and Vernon. Your mother and father are actually quite lovely, they are the complete opposite of the Dursleys, they’re open minded, kind and extremely friendly. But, you supposed, their friendliness didn’t discriminate from person to person, even if said person forced their orphaned nephew to sleep in the cupboard underneath the stairs.
There was no denying that Harry had been miserable with the Dursleys, who were unfortunately his only remaining family and you supposed you should’ve been happy when your best friend finally got away from them after his 11th birthday.
You’d missed him for the entire school year and you only got a chance to ask where he’d actually gone off to when he’d arrived home for the summer. (You didn’t believe the story Vernon had spun about Harry attending a boarding school for juvenile trouble makers).
“It’s incredible, (Y/n), honestly! I wish you could be there too.” He’d told you when you finally saw him again, after he’d finished his first year in his mysterious boarding school.
“That’s great, Haz, but where exactly is it?” You wondered and Harry only gave you his signature grin.
“Scotland.”
With a heavy sigh you let the subject go, he was clearly happy wherever he was going to school so it didn’t matter where or what it was. As long as he was happy.
By the time his 12th birthday rolled around you’d found the perfect gift for him. You’d made your parents buy you a polaroid camera for him to take away to school, he’d told you so many amazing stories about his school, you wanted to see some of it for yourself so you figured a camera would be the best course of action.
The morning of his birthday, Harry was woken up by the sound of pebbles tapping against his barred up window. The boy looked out to see you waving at him, an excited smile on your face and a neatly wrapped present in your other hand. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face as you beckoned him down with your hand. It was barely dawn but you knew better than to give a present for Harry to either his aunt or uncle because they’d only give it to Dudley, so it was best to get it to him before the rest of his supposed family woke up.
Hogwarts was amazing and Harry was over the moon to have discovered he was a wizard and make so many new friends, but he had missed you- his only friend in the muggle world. Your birthday was only a few weeks after his and he hoped that maybe you’d get a hogwarts letter of your own, obviously that hadn’t happened. Nonetheless he was happy to see you in the summer, he couldn’t shake the thought that Ron and Hermione would have loved to meet you though.
Slowly and quietly, Harry snook down the stairs and out the front door to meet you.
“Happy birthday, Haz!” You whisper-shouted excitedly, pulling the green-eyed boy into your house so he wouldn’t get caught outside when he wasn’t even allowed out of his bedroom.
Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, “I hope you know that you’re still the only person who calls me that.”
“Good,” you said happily, closing the front door behind you. “Anyway, I got you something that you can bring away to school with you!” He rose an eyebrow at you as you pushed the carefully wrapped box into his hands, “Open it,” you instructed. And so he did.
It was very possibly the most expensive gift he’d ever gotten, you (or your parents) usually got Harry presents that couldn’t be stolen by Dudley. For example, your mother had taken to buying Harry his own clothes, seeing as your best friend was a lot taller and thinner than his horrid cousin.
You, on the other hand, would usually make him gifts with sentimental value, something Dudley had absolutely zero interest in. The camera though, you knew would be safe as Harry would be leaving for school again soon enough.
Harry stared dumbfounded at the cardboard box that held the rather large polaroid camera, judging by the image on the box it was a good quality thing, probably expensive. “This is… really nice, (Y/n).”
A bright smile found your lips as you rushed into an animated explanation about why you’d picked a camera as his birthday present this year.
“So you can take lots of pictures of you and your new friends in your new fancy private school and when you come back here you can show them to me!” Harry chuckled and nodded his head, hoping he’d be able to find time to take pictures like you wanted.
“I’ll take pictures of everything. Promise.” He told you, holding out his pinky with a cheeky grin. You linked your pinky with his and nodded gratefully.
“We should christen it,” Harry announced, tearing into the box and he quickly set the camera up before he pointed it at you expectantly. “Well, come on then. I’ve told my school friends all about you, they’re going to want to see what you look like too. So, smile-“ with a disbelieving laugh, you crossed your legs underneath yourself from where you were sitting on the floor across from Harry, and tucked your hair behind your ears before you looked directly at the lense of the camera and gave it the brightest smile you could muster. The camera flashed and the picture slowly revealed itself, it seemed to be good enough to satisfy Harry’s twelve year old self.
He’d shown the polaroid to Hermione first, the bushy haired girl had smiled softly as she held the polaroid gently, “She seems lovely, Harry.”
Harry had nodded his head in agreement, you were lovely. He just hoped Dudley wasn’t terrorising you too much while he was away. His cousin always had somewhat of a crush on you, which Harry knew was ridiculous considering you all but loathed Dudley.
True to his word, Harry had taken plenty of pictures, many were of (non-magic) areas of the Hogwarts campus, many were of his friends; Ron, Hermione, Fred and George Weasley (who had an absolute field day with the muggle contraption), one or two of Hagrid and he even managed to capture a nice one of the owlery. Although you were one of his best friends, sometimes thinking about you while he was in Hogwarts brought his mood down. It reminded him of how much he wished you could’ve shared in his adventures and not to mention how much he missed you, you could hardly send him an owl, what with being a muggle and all, so he only got to spend time with you during the summer months.
Things had changed during his third year, though. When he received a rather shocking, albeit very welcome, letter.
Dear Harry,
I’d like to start by saying: hi, how are you? How’s school? Good? Great. Now that that’s out of the way… when you come home I’m going to KILL you!!! I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you are a wizard! Well, I understand why you didn’t but anyway.
You’re probably wondering how I found all of this out. Long story short, I saw Vernon’s sister floating around your sitting room and then I saw you running out swinging a wand around. I put two and two together. You would not believe how long it took me to figure out how to get in contact with you. I practically had to beg Dudley to tell me how to get this package to you, he eventually told me how in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. It was as horrifying as it sounds, the things I do for you, Haz, honestly. Don’t worry though, you can make it up to me over the summer.
I bought an owl by the way. I’m guessing she found you okay? Look after her for a little while before sending her back will you? She’s just a baby so she can’t do too much long distance travel just yet.The lady I got her from is a witch, she was very kind and knew exactly what I was looking to use an owl for. Her name is Astra (the owl’s not the lady’s)! Isn’t she lovely?
Moving on from that, I felt bad forcing you to send me pictures and getting nothing in return so I have decided to very kindly grace you with my exhilaratingly normal life. You will also find I sent you some of those sweets you like.
Tell Ron and Hermione that I said hi! Oh and Fred and George too! Get into lots of trouble for me ;) I suppose I better stop rambling now, sorry about that I’m just excited (and i might be missing you… just a tiny bit!)
Write back to me soon, if you can! Tell Astra I’m proud of her for making her first delivery! (give her plenty of treats for me yeah?)
I’ll let you get back to your wizardy stuff now, Haz.
Lots of love,
(Y/n) xoxo
P.s. your magical secret is safe with me. promise.
Harry looked up from your letter with a dazed smile, your new little owl was looking at him expectantly, no doubt awaiting her treat, “Good job, Astra. Your owner says she’s very proud of you,” he informed her, handing her a piece of bacon from his breakfast plate and laughed when she hooted happily.
Astra is a gorgeous little tawny, she has brown and white feathers that were fluffy to the touch. Harry could already tell she was well suited to you though, she was friendly as anything with the most curious eyes he’d ever seen.
“Whose it from?” Ron grunted from beside him, munching happily on his huge breakfast.
Harry let out a short laugh, digging into the envelope to pull out the photos and sweets you’d sent, “(Y/n).”
“I thought she didn’t know about you?” Hermione asked from beside Ron, Harry only shrugged.
“She figured it out. She’s quite clever, I think you’d like her Hermione. She says hi by the way.” He answered somewhat distantly, distracted by the pictures you’d sent, all of which had writing on the backs. He paused on one photo, he guessed one of your parents had taken it, you were stood in the woods, surrounded by trees with a huge smile on your face, your eyes were closed and your nose was scrunched up as a very tiny Astra seemed to be nibbling at your ear affectionately.
“I’m sure we’d get along, I admire her determination, really. And she even bought an owl?” The girl questioned, reaching over and petting Astra gently.
Harry’s smile was gentle as Astra hopped onto his shoulder, “Yeah, suppose she did.”
“Alright! I’m gonna say it!” George Weasley exclaimed, plucking the photo of you from Harry’s grasp, he held it between himself and Fred, the older twin had somehow swiped the letter you’d written. “Harry’s girlfriend back home is quite cute, don’t you think, Freddie?” Fred nodded resolutely, pushing the letter into George’s face as he pointed towards a specific line.
“I have to agree and look, Georgie, she told Harry to tell us that she says hi! Ugh, such a darling,” Fred fake swooned and Harry felt his face heat up while George made kissy faces.
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Yeah, you had opened Harry up to a whole new world of teasing yet somehow he didn’t mind.
“Oi, do you think she’d like some of our Weasley products?” George asked genuinely, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry shuddered at the thought of you getting a hold of anything that Fred and George had created, because yes, you would like some magical pranking products. You had quite a talent for mischief, only in Harry’s worst nightmares would the Weasley twins ever get their hands on you.
Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Dunno.”
“She single?” Fred asked jokingly and Harry scrunched his face up. He supposed you were single, though, he’d never really pictured you with anyone. He felt quite protective over you, but he supposed he'd like to see you happy with someone he approved of- or alternatively; anyone but Dudley.
“Think so,” Harry told him with another shrug before a cheeky grin spread across his lips, as he focused his attention on the twins who were nudging each other in mock victory, “Why? Should I write home and tell her the esteemed Weasley twins have a crush on her?”
George was the first the speak, he nodded, completely serious and Harry found himself worrying that perhaps one of the Weasley twins would get his hands on you.
“Yes. Absolutely,” Fred snorted and said no more, allowing his younger twin to continue the girl based antics seeing as Fred’s actual crush, Angelina, had started to glare. “In fact, give her my name. Tell her to write to me next time, eh?”
Harry’s eyes widened, oh Merlin, George was serious.
“Oh sod off, would you? The poor girl is a muggle, she’d throw herself off the astronomy tower if she got stuck with either of you prats.” Ron said through a laugh, none of them could deny it was quite funny, even Hermione had to bite back a smile at the chaos your simple letter had caused.
Around two weeks had passed until Astra returned to you, two letters attached to her leg this time.
You greeted her with a warm smile as she landed on the inside of you window, “Welcome home, pretty lady! Did you have a nice trip?” You cooed, patting her feathers and giggling when she nuzzled her head against your fingers. Having a magical owl as a pet was weird, but still, you seemed to be managing her okay.
Astra hooted happily, as if informing you that she did, in fact, have a nice trip. “That’s good! Let me take these letters off and you can have a well deserved rest, I’ve made a nice nest up for you,” you rambled softly as you untied the string that was holding the letters to her leg.
Astra hooted, hopping onto your arm and allowing you to place her on the plush pile of pillows and blankets which she immediately made herself comfortable upon, once again hooting in content when you placed a handful of treats in front of her.
You assumed that both letters were from Harry until you noticed the messy handwriting that covered one of the envelopes, handwriting that definitely didn’t belong to Harry. Besides, never, even in the furthest reaches of your imagination, would your best friend ever refer to you as; “Harry’s Pretty Neighbour”. You set that one to the side for the time being and focused on the letter you knew to actually be from Harry.
Dear (Y/n),
Hi. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a wizard. If it makes you feel better I was actually planning on telling you this summer, but thank you for saving me from that conversation. I miss you too (only a tad). I hope you’re having a good school year so far, it’s been pretty chaotic here but I promise I’ll tell you every single tiny detail when we see each other at the end of May!
Did Astra get home okay? She’s a really lovely owl, she took quite a liking to George who (terrifyingly) has taken quite a liking to you. He’s been badgering me all week for “permission” to write to you, in his words, “just to say hello.” I think you’d actually get along but he and the rest of his family are very magic oriented, I’d be surprised if he didn’t scare you away… the pair of you together would be my worst nightmare. Don’t even get me started on how I’d feel if Fred was in the mix too. I’m tired just thinking about it.
Thank you for the sweets they were lovely, I put a chocolate frog in the envelope for you, it’s a really popular sweet in the wizarding world- don’t freak out when it hops, it’s just a charm the frog isn’t really alive.
I enjoyed the pictures too, I put a few in this letter for you too, the polaroid is running out of film but it should be enough to keep me going until the end of term.
Write to me again soon, I like hearing from you.
Take care,
Harry.
P.S. I’m really sorry you had to kiss Dudley, I’ll do something to make it up to you. Promise.
P.P.S. If George OR Fred manage to write to you PLEASE don’t eat anything they give you.
With a laugh you set the letter down beside you. Curiously, you reached a hand into the ivory envelope and pulled out the peculiarly shaped chocolate box as well as the polaroids. You viewed the photos with a fond smile, Harry always looked so happy, even with whatever chaos was happening around him. Wizard school definitely made your best friend the happiest he’d ever been.
Opening the next letter, which you now guessed judging by Harry’s letter, came from George Weasley, Harry’s friend Ron’s older brother. That was all you knew about him. You let out a gasp once you opened the seal, a small show of tiny fireworks shot out, exploding in balls of reds and oranges across your bedroom before they disappeared as if they’d never been there in the first place.
Slightly frazzled, yet amazed, you cautiously plucked the letter from the envelope and began reading.
Hello, Harry’s Pretty Neighbour.
I hope you enjoyed the show, hopefully it didn’t startle you too much… I’m not exactly sure what muggles are used to… if it did scare you I’m sorry.
Anyway, just wanted to say hi. Promised Harry I wouldn’t spook you, he’s quite protective of you, you know. It’s very sweet.
I don’t blame him, though. If I had a friend as pretty as you I’d be protective too ;)
Don’t break my heart, write back?
Yours truly,
George Weasley x
And that had been the start of it. Two years had passed since you’d discovered the wizarding world and it seemed as though things had simultaneously gotten worse and better. As it turns out, your lifelong best friend was some sort of prophetic hero in the wizard community and on top of that it seemed that there was a war brewing that he would be expected to lead.
Of course, you were completely useless as you don’t possess the ability to perform magic which also means you're at risk of being hate crimed by some classist, wizard, blood supremacists? You weren’t sure. But Harry was worried.
You’d been writing back and forth to a few of Harry’s Hogwarts friends (your friends now too) for a long while now, you’d even gotten a chance to finally meet them when you’d gone with the Dursleys to collect Harry from King’s Cross Station.
You got along best with Hermione seeing as she was raised similarly to yourself and Harry. However, of all of Harry’s school mates, you liked George the most. Everyone could have predicted it really, you’d been writing to each other constantly and the second you’d clapped eyes on each other in the flesh he’d broken out in a run to crush you in a hug. Harry had groaned at the sight of the pair of you, smiling widely at each other, seeming to slot together perfectly. He had to laugh about it now though, if things went well with Ginny he supposed you’d probably end up being his sister-in-law, assuming his predictions of George falling completely in love with you were correct (they were, he knew).
All air of laughter or wizard/muggle romances was gone at the moment however. You and Harry sat alongside each other, your hand holding his loosely between the swings you were sat on, he’d be going into his 5th year at Hogwarts soon, he’d yet to recover from the last. He’d made a friend only for that friend to be killed right in front of him. He’d almost been murdered himself for God’s sake.
“If you don’t feel safe, Haz… maybe, I don’t know? Don’t go back?” You suggested weakly, knowing he’d never do such a thing. As you expected, Harry shook his head and looked at you solemnly.
“Can’t. Not now that he’s back.” With a sigh you squeezed his hand.
“They should be paying you for this, you know,” Harry chuckled then, squeezing your hand in return.
“I’m doing this for you too. To keep you safe.” He admitted and you sighed miserably.
“I wish I could be of more help.” Harry scoffed, his green eyes shining with pure disbelief as he stared at you.
“More help? (Y/n) you must be joking…” he trailed off as you shook your head, you weren’t joking, you hated that you couldn’t help Harry through this, for once you knew there was nothing you could do to improve the situation in any way that would make an impact, “Oi. Look at me,” Harry demanded, no trace of the usual awkward sarcasm to be heard when he spoke.
You let your eyes meet his again and watched how they seemed to soften when he took in how utterly defenceless you looked, “If it hadn’t been for you, the first ten years of my life would’ve been an even worse hell than they already were. You were the only good thing and you’re still the only good thing about being back in this place.”
He watched sadly as your eyes fell to the floor again, “Besides, the sooner we get this mess with Voldemort sorted out, the sooner you and George Weasley can navigate the whole muggle/wizard romance thing.”
At his statement you barked out a laugh and Harry let himself smile too, “Shut up, Potter. S’not like that.”
Harry laughed then too, “Oh it is so like that, (N/n).”
“It so isn’t.” You grumbled, but your little smile confirmed to Harry that it absolutely was like that.
“Okay. Fine, please then do tell, what is going on between you and the infamous George Weasley?” Harry challenged, revelling in the way your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He let out a low chuckle when you shrugged shyly and kicked the stones beneath your feet.
“I don’t know… We write to each other a lot, and I think he’s really interesting and funny and sweet and of course I think he’s fit. But, I don’t know,” you bit your lip as Harry listened to you, he found it quite endearing. “I just don’t see how it would work. I like him, yeah, but…” Harry scoffed again as you trailed off. He hated seeing you feeling so insecure, Harry was clueless about a lot of things, but he knew exactly how much his best friend was worth- more than all the gold in Gringott’s.
“Ok as your best mate, and as someone who is very close with the Weasley family, I’m telling you that he’s mad about you. All he ever does is ask me about you, Fred is completely sick of him. He’s even told Molly about you, which is truly a commitment believe me,” Harry started, growing more content with the more bashful you became, “And didn’t he write to you just before the Yule Ball to tell you that he was going with Katie Bell as a friend but he wanted to tell you just incase you heard it from someone else and he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea?” Finally, you were back to fighting a smile.
“Yeah he did.”
“Well there you go. But seriously he hasn’t dated or even so much as looked at anyone else since he met you. Which I’ll be honest is super annoying for me but you deserve someone who thinks you hung the stars in the sky.”
A mock gasp left your lips and you released his hand to place it over your chest in faux hurt, “You mean to tell me you don’t think I hung the stars in the sky? I’m hurt, Harry. I think I’ll have to rat you out to Mrs. Weasley.”
Harry laughed but the lighthearted atmosphere didn’t last long before Dudley had shown up with his little gang of bullies, all of whom made fun of Harry’s nightmares.
It was then things had taken a turn for the worst, the sky turned black and storm clouds completely blocked out the previously scorching sun. You looked to Harry for answers but he seemed to be seeing something that you couldn’t, all you knew was that it had become unbearably cold, a feeling of misery making a home in your bones as Harry rushed to pull you to your feet.
“Run! Come on!” He shouted, clutching your hand tightly in his and sprinting through the neighbourhood until you, Harry and Dudley found yourselves struggling to catch a breath in a graffiti covered tunnel.
A terrified yelp left your throat as what you’d been running from revealed itself to you.
Several floating, cloaked shadowy figures swooped into the tunnel on both sides, their hands decaying and boney, their presence leaving you with the feeling that you’d never know positively ever again.
Harry had effectively used his body to cage you against the wall of the tunnel, his back pressed firmly against your chest, your own back pressed to the cold concrete wall, his wand was at the ready as the creatures approached rapidly.
“Don’t look at them.” Harry instructed, protecting you first as you watched in horror as one of the creatures seemed to be ripping Dudley’s essence straight out of his body.
It only took Harry a few painfully long seconds to take care of the creature in front of the pair of you, you’d wished you’d taken his advice and buried your head in his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the monstrous creatures before you, yet, you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Dudley.
The rest happened in a blur, Harry had yet to let go of your hand as it (and your entire body) shook violently. Demontors broke even the strongest of wizards, Harry knew that as a muggle who’d never seen a magical creature, other than an owl, you’d react negatively.
“If it makes you feel any better, I used to faint every time I saw a dementor.” You nodded numbly, giving Dudley a side glance of concern while he mumbled incoherently to himself.
“Is he alright?” You questioned meekly, voice shaking. You were still freezing and the all too familiar feeling of uselessness didn’t do anything to help you regain your inner warmth.
Harry nodded, “He will be.”
“The ministry will be after my head for using magic outside of school,” he told you after a few minutes, squeezing your hand lightly for the umpteenth time, “So I’m gonna have to go away for a while. Probably tonight. Eat some chocolate, it should stop the shaking.” He told you, you hadn’t even noticed you’d reached Privet Drive.
“And they won’t-“ your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes filled with fear, “The dementors. They won’t come back, will they?”
Harry shook his head, “No. But come on, we should get you inside before the ministry shows up and tries to obliviate you.” His final words came out as more of a mumble than an actual sentence as he passed a bumbling Dudley over to Petunia and Vernon before steering you down your own driveway.
“You better not have broken her too, boy!” You vaguely registered Vernon’s voice shouting in your and Harry’s direction.
Your parents were away on holiday at the moment, in Spain. They’d wanted you to come but you hadn’t wanted to miss Harry’s visit, so when you shakily managed to open the door the house was completely dark, you weren’t sure at what point night had fallen.
Harry closed the door behind himself and made his way into your kitchen, the boy rifled through your sweet press before his hand finally settled on what he was looking for. A triumphant sort of yell left his lips as he pulled a bar of chocolate out of the cupboard.
While Harry tossed the bar onto the counter and busied himself with boiling the kettle, you stood in the hallway still, completely rigid.
“Come on, (Y/n). Sit down.” He urged gently, not turning around. Wordlessly, you fully entered the kitchen and slid into a chair facing Harry.
“Don’t you have better things to be doing than making me tea?” You wondered, setting your hands on the table and fidgeting with your icy fingers. Obviously, you appreciated Harry’s fussing but with the way he was talking about the ministry earlier you were sure he had more important things to worry about.
Harry only faced you once he was finished making your tea. He carried the hot cup and the previously discarded bar of chocolate over to you, he placed them both on the table before giving you a hard look, “I’m looking after you first. I’ll deal with everything else later.”
“I used to be the one who took care of you.” You said through a sigh, taking a sip of the hot tea and slumping against your seat as you began to heat up on the inside again.
Harry let out a low chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”
“I liked it better the other way.” You complained, munching on a square of chocolate.
“Trust me, so did I,” Harry groaned, standing up and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry though, (N/n). Have a sneaking feeling that you’ll be looking after me again soon enough.”
You patted the hand he had clamped on your shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you, though, for looking after me.”
“Course. I better go. I don’t want you getting roped into anything else tonight,” he said with a sad smile and you nodded in understanding, “We probably won’t see each other for a while but I’ll write. Is Astra back from Cecilia's yet?” Celillia is the witch you’d gotten Astra from in the first place, the pair of you had kept in touch and she’d recently offered to try and teach you some basic divination skills, she claimed that, “Being a wizard isn’t exactly a requirement” and you desperately needed something, anything, to make you feel more connected to your friends in the wizarding world. You supposed you’d need to plan a trip to her cottage soon, after tonight you definitely needed some of her wisdom.
“No, not yet. She flew straight there from the burrow so I suppose she’s probably resting,” you informed him distantly, still clutching his hand, “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”
Harry squeezed your shoulder and let out a deep breath, “I’ll try my best. Promise,” with that he lifted his hand from your shoulder and extended his pinky to you, you gladly linked it with your own. Harry noted, very gratefully, that the warmth had now returned to your hands and you’d stopped shaking so violently.
“Send me a letter once Astra gets back, alright? I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on over on my side.” You agreed before walking Harry to the door, hugging him tightly and watching as he approached the Dursley’s front door.
As predicted, Harry, George, Hermione and Cecillia had let you know that the wizarding world was crumbling fast. Admittedly you were worried about your wizard friends, but Cecillia had done a great job of keeping you distracted by keeping you buried under heaps of divination books, tarot cards and crystal guidebooks. As it turns out, though, you had quite the talent for making accurate detailed predictions.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were descended from a powerful seer,” she’d written to you in awe after you’d managed to predict exactly how a date of hers would go without missing a single detail.
Reading tarot cards quickly became one of your favourite hobbies to indulge in when you weren’t in school. You’d made the mistake of telling George about it in a recent letter, Harry already knew and he also knew that there was no point telling you that he didn’t have a heap of faith in divination. George however was having a field day with the new information.
The older boy teased you at every chance he got, but it was all in good fun as in every letter he sent, you’d find a page that he’d ripped out of his own divination book, the pages would be crinkled and have messy notes scribbled along the margins, with explanations over words that he knew you wouldn’t understand as a muggle. They were actually really helpful. Aside from all the teasing he found it quite endearing that you were trying to get familiar with some form of magic. Even if it was a form of magic wizards tended to ridicule.
He’d been quite worried about you, Harry told him about the dementors and how you’d been quite shaken up after your encounter with them. He’d written to you on a weekly basis, constantly checking in on you, making absolutely sure that no more dementors paid you a visit. He and Harry both kept you up to date with the constant and seemingly never ending rules being imposed upon them by their new headmaster, or headmistress; Delores Umbridge. George also disclosed to you all about his and Fred’s plan to leave Hogwarts and pursue their lifelong dream of opening a joke shop. You had nothing but faith in the twins, really. Your complete faith in them hadn’t stopped you from sending George a handful of crystals that you believed would help his and his shop’s success. He’d teased you relentlessly in each letter since he’d received your package containing citrine, tiger’s eye, amazonite, aventurine and smokey quartz. What he hadn’t mentioned since receiving your little gifts, is that he’d been carrying the five crystals around in their little orange mesh drawstring bag in his pocket everywhere he went. He had to give credit where credit is due and, to be fair to you and your holistic ways, he hadn’t run into any serious obstacles since he started carrying the gems around.
November through June had brought forth a plethora of unfortunate events. You were practically swimming in school work which left you with no time to write to Harry, or even practice tarot. As well as that, you’d been having nightmares, although Cecillia had warned that these dreams could hold some sort of prophesies within them, you highly doubted that though, you weren’t a wizard, only a muggle. Whether prophetic or not, the nightmares plagued you, keeping you up at night or waking you at all hours of the morning.
On one particular morning, you’d awoken with a gasp. Sweat coated your face, soaked your pillow cases and caused your legs to stick to your blankets in a way not even the June heat could've caused. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, tears welled in your eyes, and your body shook as violently as it had the night you’d come face to face with the dementors of Azkaban. The unadulterated fear coursing through your bloodstream suggested that perhaps this bad dream had been something more than simply that.
As fast as you could manage in your panicked state, you dragged your body out of bed and stumbled towards your light switch, flicking it on before haphazardly ripping a sheet out of the refill pad on your desk, grabbing a pen and beginning to scribble down the dream that you could only describe as a warning.
Your laboured breaths stirred Astra from her slumber, the tawny hooted tiredly, hopping out of her cage and fluttering over to your shoulder, settling there as you wrote.
Harry,
I hope this letter reaches you in time. I might sound completely mad but something terrible may be about to happen. I’ve been having these horrific dreams over the last few months, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry but Cecillia suspects they’re premonitions and I’m terrified she may be right. I’ve just woken up, it’s around 2am and if I’m lucky, Astra should get this letter to you before 6am…
Onto the dream, you were there and you were asleep, I was standing by your bed, it was a four-poster sort of thing, the room was decorated in mostly red and gold. You woke up panicked, you looked completely overwhelmed and you began shouting about your Godfather Sirius, about how he was in trouble… From then on I watched the day play out. You, Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, a boy with brown hair I’ve never met, I think you called him Neville in my dream, and a blonde girl- Luna I think you called her, you all went to the ministry to rescue Sirius and find some kind of prophecy. Harry you have to listen to me, you mustn’t go, it’s a trick, Voldemort planted it in your head and if you go you’ll only put Sirius in harm’s way. But, knowing you, you’re gonna go anyway… so here’s my advice: keep your eyes open for the witch Bellatrix. Keep Sirius away from the veil and please please please, be careful.
I’m heading to Cecillia’s cottage for the day and maybe even the next couple of days, send Astra there when you find time to write back.
I hope I’m wrong but if I’m not; good luck, Harry. I love you and if you don’t look after yourself the dark lord will be the least of your worries.
Lots of love,
Y/n.
Folding up the letter and placing it in a stray envelope, you addressed it and gently tied it to your loyal owl’s leg. “I’m gonna need you to go as fast as you can to get this to Harry, okay Astra?” She hooted with what you guessed to be determination before she set off, out into the night. Thankfully for you, now that your owl was occupied, you knew Cecillia owned a telephone so you’d have no problems contacting her. While writing to Harry, you’d left out a few details about the dream. You conveniently forget to mention that you’d watched his only remaining family member killed at the hand’s of Bellatrix, it had looked so terrifyingly real that your mind couldn’t have possibly conjured it up all by itself. You also failed to mention hearing Harry’s agonising scream as Sirius fell, the noise was nearly deafening. Seeing Sirius, a man you’d only seen in pictures, die and watching your best friend mourn for him was, well, traumatising. There was no way you’d get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night, so, you quietly tiptoed downstairs and made a call.
The line rang three times before Cecillia’s voice sounded, chirpy as ever despite the late hour, “Hello?”
“Sorry to call so late,” was all you managed, your voice although shaky was immediately identified by the much older witch.
You could nearly see the soft smile on her youthful face as she spoke, “Ah, Y/n my darling, no worries at all! How is my favourite student doing at half two in the morning?”
“Not well, I’ve had another vision. I think you might’ve been right about the dreams being prophetic,” you told her, willing your voice not to crack as the image of your bad dreams crept into your mind once again.
Cecillia let out a gentle hum, “Shall I apparate over? You don’t sound in the highest of spirits, darling.”
“Yes please,” you answered simply and within seconds Cecillia was standing before you, a worried furrow in her brow and her ashy brown hair disheveled from apparating to you in such a hurry. How could she not? You were, after all, her protégé.
“Oh, darling. You look terribly shaken up, come, come, let’s get you some water,” she fretted, guiding you to your kitchen, magically flicking on the light with her wand and filling up a glass of water, with a few flicks of her wrist the glass had floated over to your usual seat at the table, meanwhile Cecillia had stirred you into the wooden chair adjacent the glass.
Wordlessly, the witch peeled your damp hair away from your face and secured it back with a crocodile clip shaped like a huge golden bumble bee, it’s wings adorned with glittering gems. The bee sat comfortably in your hair as Cecillia finally sat down beside you, she made herself comfortable on the kitchen chair, crossing one leg over the other, resting her elbow on the table and using it to prop her cheek up. Her wide green eyes stared at you sympathetically, watching intently as you sipped your water.
“I’m assuming your loyal familiar is sleeping soundly?” She wondered, referring to Astra. You shook your head, simultaneously swallowing a gulp of water before responding verbally.
“I sent her with a letter to Harry, it was more of a warning really,” Cecillia nodded her head, signalling you to go on, “I dreamt of Harry and his friends going to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius Black, but it was a trap. When they got there they were ambushed by dark wizards and Sirius well he…” you trailed off, eyes growing distant and unfocused when the sight of the man being murdered reentered your mind’s eye. A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present.
“This one was far worse than the others then?”
You nodded, “It didn’t feel like a dream, cecillia. It was like I was actually standing there but I couldn’t do anything to help though… as per usual,” you muttered bitterly, receiving a harsh squeeze to your shoulder in response.
Cecillia fixed you with a maternal glare, “None of that! You potentially saved a life tonight. And, as I effortlessly predicted since the moment I met you, you’ve got the magical gift of sight,” her hard look melted into something more forgiving as she spoke, “You’re much more than just a muggle. You may have been an extremely late bloomer, but, you’re a witch and a seer at that. A peculiar case indeed, although in the wizarding world stranger things have happened,” the old witch told you proudly, eyes shining with glee as your own filled with confusion.
“How do we know the dream will even come true?” You questioned.
Cecillia simply shrugged and offered you a cheeky grin, “I trust your feelings, darling.”
True to your initial feeling, you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you found out whether or not your dream had come to fruition. Cecillia remained by your side throughout the night, eventually the sun had risen and your parents descended down the stairs, neither of them were surprised to see Cecillia sitting at the kitchen table. They saw her as an odd woman, very kind and perfectly lovely, but odd. You’d told them that she owned an animal sanctuary and that you’d been volunteering with her, it wasn’t too far fetched really, she had given you an owl after all, not to mention the amount of cats that hung around her cottage.
She explained to your parents that she needed your help at ‘the sanctuary’ for the next few days and that she’d drop you home once the work was finished. It hadn’t been a problem, so you traveled to Cecillia’s cottage after getting dressed and packing an overnight bag (full to the brim with tarot decks and only some clothes).
It was nearly 8 in the evening when Cecillia sauntered into her living room, where you were sitting, sporting a knowing grin, she held a piece of parchment in one hand and an unopened envelope in the other.
Jovially, she plopped herself down beside you, obviously doing her very best to contain a huge grin from forming on her face. Wordlessly, she placed the envelope on your lap with a mere, “For you.”
On the envelope you could tell by the handwriting that it had come from Harry. This was definitely a make or break moment for you. The contents of this letter would either confirm that you did in fact have magic, or, they would be responsible for causing you to experience a seismic amount of embarrassment. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tore the envelope open, freeing the letter and daring to read what was inside.
Dear Y/n,
Your dream was right. And that advice you gave about keeping an eye on Sirius? It saved his life. I suppose I’m mostly writing to say thank you. I’ve got some updates for you too: firstly, it’s finally been confirmed that Voldemort is back so my name is cleared. Secondly, it turns out that Remus and Cecillia are old friends, she contacted him earlier today about your vision and he and Sirius haven’t shut up about how impressive it is. I have a feeling you might be hearing from them soon, The Order now more than ever is in need of a secret weapon and genuine seers are hard to come by. I hate to involve you in this, it’ll probably be dangerous and you know I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. But having said that, I’m glad we’re in this together now.
Astra got here in good time, by the way, she landed on my window just after I woke up from my vision of Sirius, it was actually quite freaky. I’m taking good care of her so don’t worry, she should be back to you at some point tomorrow.
Hermoine and Ron say hi too. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from George soon, seeing as he and Fred are in the Order… On that note I better get going.
Thank you again for the warning.
See you soon,
Love, Harry.
A bemused smile spread across your lips as you scanned the page, thankful to have finally made a significant difference in Harry’s life. Cecillia was grinning like a cheshire cat beside you, pride shimmering in her emerald eyes. She bumped her arm against yours playfully when you let the letter fall to your lap, “An old friend of mine will be stopping by in a short while. It seems he’d like to get you trained up in some defence against the dark arts.” She told you, still grinning.
“Defence against the dark arts?” You wondered out loud, you were sure you’d heard Harry mention those words to you before, however, the memories were fuzzy.
“Magic to keep you safe from darker magic, the likes of which the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters rely,” she explained darkly. Just then, a loud bang erupted from her open stone fireplace, a bubble of green dissipated as two men stepped less than gracefully onto Cecillia’s faux-fur rug. You recognised them both from your vision. They were Sirius Black and, if you were to take an educated guess, Remus Lupin.
Cecillia wasted no time before she was giddily jumping from her seat to greet the pair who had just appeared in her sitting room.
“Remus! Oh, how wonderful to see you!” She all but squealed, pulling the tall man into a hug and ruffling his already messy hair.
He reciprocated the hug with a gentle chuckle, “It’s nice to see you again, Cece. It’s been far too long,” he pulled away and the pair of them shared a fond smile before simultaneously looking to Sirius. “I trust you remember Sirius?” Lupin asked, almost rhetorically.
Sirius let out a booming laugh at that, “She could never forget me, now could you, Cece?” Cecillia rolled her eyes, and with a look of endearment nearly tackled Sirius into an embrace.
Seeing the woman who was essentially your magical mentor so overjoyed was lovely, Cecillia was jolly at the best of times but you’d never seen her quite like this. Her happiness added to your sense of helpfulness, Sirius Black was obviously important to more than just Harry, if the smile on the free-spirited witches face was anything to go by. Although you were ecstatic for the three witches and wizards before you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were imposing on an intimate reunion.
Awkwardly you cleared your throat, successfully bringing the trio’s attention onto you as you stood by the sofa, smiling unsurely. If it was even possible, all three of their smiles broadened when their gazes landed on you.
“Am I right in assuming that this is my guardian angel?” Sirius asked, separating from Cecillia.
Cecillia nodded, filled with pride, “And isn’t she just the loveliest guardian angel you’ve ever seen?” She gushed, half seriously.
You offered Sirius a bashful smile, along with a nod of greeting, “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” you told him.
His grin stayed fixed in place but he raised a single eyebrow in confusion, “Glad? And yet you’ve never met me before now…” his tone was laced with inquisition, as if he wanted to figure out what ulterior motive you could possibly have for caring about a stranger you’d only ever seen in a dream.
It didn’t take a seer or a psychic to see what Sirius was after, so you simply answered him truthfully, “No, we’ve never met, but you’re still a person, I watched that woman kill you, it was horrible, nobody deserves that. As well as that; I know how much you mean to Harry and what sort of best friend would I be if I didn’t try to help him keep his last family member safe?” Sirius nodded approvingly at your reply, looking between Remus and Cecillia.
“She remind you of anyone?” The black haired man asked in a low chuckle, Remus snickered and Cecillia bit back a grin.
The witch made her way back to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, jostling you ever so slightly when she noticed your vaguely worried expression, “Don’t worry, darling, you just remind us of one of our most treasured school friends, I promise I will tell you all about it later. But for now, I believe Sirius was about to thank you for saving his life?” She prompted, waiting expectantly.
Sirius cleared his throat and straightened his posture before outstretching his arm, offering you his hand which you took firmly in your own. His voice was steady, strong and genuine when he spoke, “I am truly thankful for what you did for not only me but Harry today. I’m extremely proud of my godson for aligning himself with such a strong, powerful and wonderfully loyal young lady.”
“How sweet,” Cecillia cooed, before guiding you to the kitchen, “Come now, boys, kettles on- we have a lot to discuss!” She called over her shoulder.
There certainly had been a lot to discuss. The Order of the Phoenix thought having a seer at their disposal would be extremely beneficial in the upcoming war, the issue was; you are not yet of age and some members of the group didn’t wish to involve a child in their battle. Sirius, Remus and Cecillia made it abundantly clear that if you desired to join the Order, you were more than welcome but you would be welcomed under certain conditions. Those conditions being that your membership be kept under wraps and not disclosed to any muggles, meaning your parents.
“To keep them safe and to give you an escape route if things get too messy, even with the level of magic you’ll have gained by the time the war is in full swing, as a muggle born you’ll most likely need to flee quickly,” Remus explained, though it didn’t make much sense.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to run if my parents knew what we were running from? They’re open minded people, I’m sure they’d understand,” you attempted to reason, the trio but exchanged yet another loaded look with each other.
Cecillia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “We have a contingency plan in place, darling. Nothing you need to worry about for right now,” she reassured, easing your nerves a tad. “You trust me don’t you?” She followed up, her tone slightly stonier, more serious. You nodded your head certainly in response, there was no doubt about it; you trusted the witch with your life. “Then,” she began again, a somewhat chastising look on her face, “Trust that I will not allow a single hair on your head to be harmed.” This rule also extended to wizards not in the Order, which meant that when in the magical world, you were to air on the side of extreme caution.
Relating to that, another condition was that, at all times in the magical world, you were to be accompanied by an of age member of the Order. According to Sirius, who your were growing to like more by the second, he was going to arrange for a member of the Order to bring you to Diagon Alley in the morning to get you a wand. The prospect of having a wand of your own was terribly exciting, once again though, you found yourself wondering if you had it in you to properly wield one, or wield one at all for that matter. You were too exhausted to fret for too long, so the thoughts about magic levels and your own capabilities were only fleeting. Once all of the serious chat dissipated into friendly chatter, you managed to slip away from the table at which you were all sat. Making your way back to the sitting room, you tucked yourself into the corner seat of Cecillia’s old and very comfortable sofa, pulled your knees against your chest, wrapped your arms around them and rested your cheek against your knee. Slowly and deeply, you began to breathe in and out, fiddling with the amazonite bracelet that adorned your wrist in order to quell your ever growing anxiety. For a few sweet minutes you indulged in the calm silence, meditating peacefully in your comfy seat until a soft knock sounded from the doorway. When your eyes fluttered open they were met with the image of Sirius Black, leaning casually against the frame of the door, a hand plunged deep into his trouser pocket and another flipping a stray tarot card between his fingers. His eyes were focused on yours as he spoke, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
You shook your head and patted the seat beside you, “‘Course not, come sit.”
The man chuckled but obliged, settling in the spot beside you and offering you the card he’d previously been fiddling with.
“The ten of swords,” you identified easily, “I assume you’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed if this card found its way to you.”
Sirius hummed, “CeCe tells me that you’ve a penchant for card reading. I was rubbish at divination back at Hogwarts, only took it because I thought it’d be easy but I could never get my head around it,” he reminisced, an airy laugh slipping from his lips.
“If you don’t mind me asking, who were you all talking about earlier when you asked if I reminded Cecilia and Remus of anyone?” He let out a deep sigh before fixing you with a soft smile.
“An old school friend of ours, she was more than a friend to me, but that’s a story for another time,” he started, staring out into the empty space before him a melancholy grin on his lips, “She was fiercely loyal to her friends, if she wanted to help there was absolutely nothing that would stop her from doing so. I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I heard today and the way in which you’ve been described to me by Harry; I can see her in you,” he finished, bumping his shoulder with yours and forcing a happy smile onto your lips which mirrored Sirius’.
“What’s her name?” You asked.
“Her name was Marlene,” Sirius answered.
Your heart dropped with his use of past tense, “Was?”
Sirius bowed his head slightly and began to twist the rings that adorned his slender fingers, “She was killed during the first war,” he told you, making eye contact once again, a grave expression on his face as he continued, “I saw your apprehension earlier when we brought up the topic of secrecy, but you must understand that during the first war we lost so many who were dear to us, keeping you in our back pocket will ensure that you aren’t harmed in the face of this war, if any dark wizards hear so much of a whisper of a muggleborn seer they will stop at nothing to eliminate you,” he paused for a brief second, never breaking eye contact, the gravity of the situation heavy on your chest your fingers absentmindedly found your amazonite bracelet once again. Your movements were halted when Sirius placed his large hand over yours, squeezing it warmly while staring at you determinedly, “You saved my life today, Y/n. So believe me when I tell you that I will stop at nothing to keep you safe,” he promised and you squeezed his hand in return.
“I know,” he smiled as he watched your eyes return to the ten of swords and your grin broadened with the sort of mischief he’d only ever seen in four people; James Potter, Marlene McKinnon and Fred and George Weasley. “I have a prediction for you.”
Sirius entertained you fondly, a mischievous air that reminded him of when he was your age surrounding the pair of you, “By all means, do tell.”
“I predict,” you paused for emphasis, “that we are going to be very good friends.”
Sirius let out a booming laugh of which the volume he couldn’t control, “That is a prediction I truly hope will come to fruition.”
“Oh no, this is a duo that spells trouble,” Cecillia giggled to Remus as they entered the sitting room.
Remus looked between you and Sirius with a grin, “With a mentor like you, Cece, I’m not surprised Y/n has a taste for mischief,” the ruffled wizard teased, receiving a gentle elbow to the ribs from your mentor.
“Oi, if you’re going to blame my beloved girl’s mischief on anyone you better blame it on a certain Weasley twin,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and causing the boys to smile giddily like teenagers.
Sirius bumped your shoulder again, this time with a faux-scandalised smile, “A Weasley twin, eh? Come on then, which one?” You blushed heavily and cleared your throat in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassment filling your being.
“He’s just a friend!”
“Mhm. A friend that sends her annotated pages from his divination text book,” Cecillia sang and Sirius snickered.
“Whichever one it is must be quite taken with you if you made him actually crack open a textbook.”
“Annotations are quite intimate,” Remus half teased although you could see he believed what he’d just said, “I bet it’s George,” he directed the bet at Sirius who carefully observed the way you bit your lip and bashfully looked towards the wooden floor.
“I think you’re right, moony. Now!” He stood suddenly and pointed a finger at Remus expectantly, “We best get going and arrange Y/n’s accomplice for tomorrow’s field trip,” he wiggled his eyebrows before turning his head to face you again, he shot you a wink and you couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left your mouth at his lighthearted antics.
Remus gave Cecillia a one armed hug, “we’ll be seeing you both tomorrow then, it was lovely to meet you, Y/n, perhaps next time Sirius will allow me to get a word in,” he chuckled and Sirius responded by throwing his arm around your shoulder.
“I better get off, this husband of mine is growing jealous,” he told you in a teasingly hushed whisper.
Your eyes widened and you looked between the two men, “You two are married?”
A love struck smile took over both of their faces which immediately gave you your answer. “We’re engaged,” Sirius clarified before pulling you into a proper hug, “Get a good night's sleep, we’ll be sending an order member to collect you early tomorrow morning so you can be in and out of Olivander’s before a crowd can build,” he told you while giving you an affectionate squeeze, you could’ve laughed when you realised that it felt like you’d known Sirius forever but you also could’ve cried when you relived the image of him losing his life and realised that just because it was over and prevented didn't mean it hadn’t still transpired in your mind’s eye, you didn’t let that show on your face though.
“I’ll make sure I’m well rested,” you promised.
With that, Sirius bid Cecillia goodbye, and he and Remus left the way they’d came.
The rest of the night had been spent with Cecillia telling you story after story about her school days and the trouble she’d caused with Sirius, Remus, James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents, and another boy who she only referred to as “the rat”. Though the tone of the stories were completely lighthearted, they weighed on your chest with a sense of such tragedy. A huge majority of their friends were killed young because of the war, a war that was now waging once again. It led you to wonder who’d be lost to this one, if perhaps you’d be on the list of names that Harry or Cecillia or George would speak about fondly with a dense undertone of sorrow in the years after the second war had long since been won. It was a risk you were willing to take though, the notion of fighting for a deserving cause filled you with a sense of purpose, a purpose you’d been searching for for years. More than that, you felt important. You were needed. An asset. You would actually be of some help.
True to your word, you’d been getting a good night’s rest. The bed in Cecillia’s spare room was the comfiest thing you’d ever come across, though, as you began to stir from your deep slumber you couldn’t recall the empty side of the double bed being quite so dipped.
Slowly and begrudgingly, you cracked your eyes open to see Cecillia smiling tiredly at you in the light of dawn, “Morning, darling. Sorry about the early start, I’ve made you some tea,” she greeted quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the early morning. She held two ceramic mugs, one in each hand and passed you the steaming cup that was hand painted green, keeping the brown one for herself. Tiredly, you patted the spot beside you and pulled the quilt to the side, inviting the witch into the warm bed. She happily slid in, pulling the quilt over her and chuckling quietly when you dropped your head onto her robed shoulder and began to sip the tea she’d made. Cecillia rested her head against yours and sipped on her own tea.
“Are you excited for today?” She asked and you hummed.
“I’m having mixed emotions,” you stated, “I’m excited to see everything, but I’m sort of nervous that I won’t have enough magic to even get a wand,” Comfort spread through your chest when Cecillia pressed her lips to the crown of your head.
“The wonderful thing about wands, lovely, is that the wand picks the wizard,” she began, “so whatever wand you end up with will accentuate the level of magic inside you. Its power will grow as yours does and you’ll soon come to realise that you couldn’t imagine wielding anything else,” her voice was wistful and her eyes shined with wonder as she recalled how it felt to bond to a wand.
“What do you think mine will be like?” You wondered, excitement awakening in you thanks to Cecillia’s encouraging words.
The witch took an exaggerated slurp of her tea before answering, “Something curious,” was all she said.
“Insightful,” you murmured and she shrugged unapologetically, her chaotic energy exuding now that she’d started to wake up fully. “What time is it anyway?”
“Half six, your chaperone should be arriving at seven and Olivander’s opens at eight,” she told you before shimmying out of bed, you whined in the absence of your head rest. “You better get dressed. Wear something nice, rumour has it that your tag along is quite the eligible bachelor,” she wiggled her eyebrows and all but floated out of the spare room. It was practically your room by now though, over the years since you’d gotten Astra and met Cecillia you’d stayed in the room on countless occasions. Cecillia embodied something that was something between a second mother, a spiritual mentor, a teasing older sister and a slightly kooky aunt.
“Oh? So do you reckon I should brush my hair then?” You jokingly called out after her only to receive a harsh scoff.
“Absolutely not! Don’t be desperate!” You barked out a laugh at her response, shaking your head and getting ready for the day ahead.
You were just about finished getting ready when a familiar bang sounded from the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself one last look over in the mirror, happy with the outfit you’d chosen, you made your way towards the sitting room to come face to face with your surprise chaperone for the day.
When you shuffled into the sitting room, a smile immediately stretched across your lips upon seeing who had been appointed to stick by your side for the day, “George!” His name left your mouth in a squeal that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so excited to see him. It’d been upwards of a year since the last time you’d seen George in the flesh and although you’d seen each other in photos and written to each other at a rate that was almost excessive, the prospect of spending time together in person was, for lack of a better word; magical.
George drew his attention away from the framed pictures that lined Cecillia’s fireplace to see you standing in the doorway, looking as bright as the newly risen sun and sporting a smile that he couldn’t quite put into words how it made him feel. It only took a second before his own cheek splitting smile grew on his face, and with it left his hopes of impressing you with his cool and collected attitude. You hadn’t given him too much time to dwell on his ruined cool guy facade as you all but threw yourself into his arms. The red head let out an endearing laugh, catching you in his toned arms, wrapping them tightly around your torso. A scarlet blush rising on his ears when he felt your smile against his neck. “Hello to you too,” he chuckled against your ear and you pulled back enough to look at him, your arms still secure around his shoulders.
“Sorry,” you started, the smile that still adorned your lips telling him that you weren’t all that sorry at all, “Hi,” you greeted, bashfully pulling your arms away from him.
The sitting room was quiet for a moment as the pair of you only stared at each other, would it be too much to tell him that you’ve missed him? You didn’t want to come on too strong after such a long time apart, you’d already tackled him into a hug within the first five seconds, but with that came your next internal question of; did you really want to keep this boy on his toes?
George, having already discarded his notion of acting nonchalant with you, bet you to the punch. He rubbed the back of his neck and flicked his gaze to the floor before bringing it back to you, “I’ve missed you.”
A giggle left your lips before you could think about choking it down, you nodded your head, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Sorry I haven’t written, Astra is still with Harry.”
George gave you a grin, “No worries, darling. Heard you’ve been a very busy little psychic lately.”
Darling, you mused internally, the nickname echoing through your head and causing your heart to somersault in a way you’d never really felt before.
“Oh how sweet,” Cecillia sang from the doorway, a wicked grin on her face as she took in the two hopeless blushing messes, staring doe-eyed at each other in the middle of her living room. “I hate to break up the reunion, my dears, but the pair of you really should get going,” she instructed, strutting up to you and holding a cloth pouch in your direction, “Sirius left you some spending money, it’s different than the money you usually use but I’m sure George will have no problem helping you out,” Cecillia shot the boy a wink and he nodded, once again growing bashful.
“Now,” she grew serious, directing her words at George and making him slightly intimidated with her strong eye contact, “You are to be extremely careful. You are not to mention that Y/n is a seer and you are not to draw any attention to the fact that she is a muggleborn, if Mr. Olivander asks, she’s a half-blood who's been living in the states and that’s why she doesn’t have a wand,” you wore a confused expression, George nodded in complete understanding, “Did Sirius give you the list?”
George nodded once again, pulling a folded piece of parchment out of the back pocket of his slightly baggy denim jeans, “May I take a look?” Cecillia asked, already snatching the parchment from George’s long fingers and unfolding the sheet and reading it aloud, “Alright! A wand… seriously? He used a whole page of parchment just to write one thing?” She grumbled, stomping over to the nearest side table, leaning down and began to scribble on the parchment. You looked to George as she wrote, “Why do you have to say I’m from the States?” You asked quietly and George leaned down slightly to be closer to your ear.
“Witches and wizards in America don’t get wands until they’re of age, we get them here when we’re eleven,” just as he was finished offering his explanation, Cecillia walked back over, a hard look on her face that you weren’t used to seeing, though it seemed that the look was reserved for George.
Silently she handed him the parchment before looking to you, hard look dissolving back into her usual playful expression, “Have fun, lovely.” She then turned to George again, apparently having had enough of trying to intimidate the poor boy, she shot him a smile, “You’ll be taking the floo to Diagon Alley, my fireplace is big enough to take the both of you at once,” she handed George a pouch of what looked like green powder, “George knows what to do, now, not to sound like a broken record but do stay safe and have fun,” she finished, ushering the pair of you into her fireplace. You couldn’t lie, it was quite strange, you supposed you should get used to things coming across as strange, you were about to be exposed to the magical wizarding world for the first time after all. In the fireplace, you stood shoulder to shoulder with George, noticing the nervous look on your face, he slid his hand into yours gently. When you looked at him, he kept his face focused on his feet, “Ready, Y/n?” Taking a deep breath you nodded shakily.
“Ready, George.”
At your words, George slammed the green powder onto the ground and shouted, “Diagon Alley!”
You were sure you were going to be sick. Whatever the powder was, it had you spinning at a pace you didn’t know was possible, you had screwed your eyes shut and you were almost certain that you could feel yourself physically moving. It was only when George tugged on your hand that you opened your eyes to see that your surroundings had actually changed. “It’s horrible the first time, but you get used to it,” George said, pulling you by your still intertwined hands onto the cobbled street. The dizziness died down after only a few seconds out in the fresh air, the added sensation of George’s thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand seemed to do the trick in settling you completely as you took in the street ahead of you. It was dazzling, really. A long cobbled street, lined with shops that looked like they were plucked straight out of a fairytale. As planned, the streets were fairly empty in the early morning as George led you down the path towards the shop where you’d hopefully get your wand. The name “Olivanders” was written above both windows of the dark shop, the words “makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.” were to be seen just above the door. Excitement had completely overridden your nerves and you practically skipped towards the door, George followed casually behind you, his hands tucked into his pockets and a fond smile on his lips.
“I suppose you’re excited then?” He asked teasingly and you didn’t bother trying to hide your obvious childlike wonder as you waited for him to catch up with you.
“It probably seems silly to you, but this morning Cecillia told me all about when she got her wand and it sounded so wonderful,” you told him, smiling when he bumped his shoulder against yours.
“I don’t think it’s silly, I still get giddy thinking about the time Fred and I got wands of our own,” he pushed the door open and motioned for you to step inside, slowly you walked into the empty shop. It was dark and somewhat dingy but there was something very mystically inclining about it, you could feel the energy and it was utterly exhilarating.
“Wow,” you breathed out, spinning where you stood, gazing at the boxes upon boxes that lined the shelves.
Only a minute passed before an old man stumbled to the front of the shop, smiling at the pair of you from behind the counter, “Ah, Mr. Weasley, it’s good to see you, it’s been some time. What can I do for you this morning? I see you’ve brought a friend,” the older wizard greeted and you smiled in response.
“I’m looking for a wand. I’ve been living in the states for the past few years but I just moved home,” you lied easily, George couldn’t help but smirk, what he’d give to have had you around for some of his and Fred’s pranks at Hogwarts.
The old man nodded in understanding, his eyes scanned you, his eyes were scrutinising and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, “Interesting. One moment please,” he said, murmuring to himself as he searched the isles for what he was looking for. A small “aha” sounded from within the isles, he was back in front of you within seconds, an open rectangular box in his hand. It was absolutely gorgeous, it resembled a raw tree branch, wood spiralling up its expanse until it stopped at the top, cutting off in a jagged, dull edge. He must’ve noticed how your jaw dropped, how could he not? He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you since you’d wandered into his shop. He was an old wizard, but he wasn’t naive, he was well aware you weren’t returning from America, he could sense an energy in you that he hadn’t come in contact with in a long time. “Curious, isn’t it?” He prompted you, causing you to let out an airy laugh. Cecillia was going to tease you big time when you got back to her cabin.
“It’s lovely, what is it?” He offered you the box expectantly and you hesitantly picked up the wand with as much care as you possibly could. It was cool against your skin and was heavier than you’d imagined it would be.
“Thirteen inch, oak; cut from the base of a tree, which at the time, was almost six hundred years old,” he explained, watching happily as you ran your fingers along the wands several ridges,”With a phoenix feather core, quite a rare piece indeed. Unfortunately, this particular wand has been extremely difficult to match to a witch. But something tells me that you might be just the witch for the job,” he held your gaze and you once again got the feeling that he knew something he shouldn’t, “Go on, then. Give it a wave,” he prompted and you looked to George for further encouragement. George laughed at your lost expression, pulling his own wand out and pointing it towards the now empty box on the counter, “Like this, love,” he demonstrated, moving his wrist in a semi-circle motion, making the box levitate off the counter.
Another pet name. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach in favour of clearing your throat, squaring your shoulders and pointing your wand at the same box George had just made float, which was now settled back against the counter. Imitating the boy beside you, you moved your wrist in a swift semi-circle. Suddenly, a golden light poured from the tip of the wand and warm air surrounded you, gently blowing your hair back and forcing a laugh of disbelief to leave your lips. George stood wide eyed beside you, his lips parted slightly. He was amazed really, he went through five wands before he found the one that fit him, yet you’d found yours on the first try, and he had to admit; you looked glorious doing it.
After paying for your wand, you exited the shop, looking around George’s side at the list he was holding. From what you could make out, Cecillia had added a number of items to the originally very short list; 1) a wand, 2) a pendulum (crystal of the ladies choice), 3) crystals: labradorite, lapis lazuli & azurite, 4) mugwort, 5) new tarot deck (again, whatever she wants Sirius can afford it ;)).
“Suppose our next stop is the divination shop,” George said, mostly to himself but gave you a mischievous smile, “If we hurry up and get our shopping done fast we could probably get a butterbeer in before we rejoin the rest of the Order,” he sang, grazing his hand against yours as you walked side by side.
“Beer? You seriously want to drink beer at half eight in the morning?” You asked him, your eyebrow raised and he replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against his side and once again leaning his head down so his lips were level with your eye.
“No, you git,” he began with a laugh, “It’s not really beer, it’s pretty sweet; most wizards love it.”
You hummed in acknowledgment, “Sounds nice,” you told him absently, preoccupied with all the intriguing shops that surrounded you. George’s arm remained wrapped around your shoulder as you strolled further into Diagon Alley, seemingly uninterested in his offer for a butterbeer. The pair of you got what you needed from the shop and, since it hadn’t taken long, you decided to take George up on his drinks offer. You noticed that he seemed a little bit crestfallen since your noncommittal answer earlier.
“Hey,” you said, bumping your arm against his.
“Hello,” he replied, returning the gesture.
“So… d’you wanna go get one of those beer things that you were talking about earlier?” You asked nervously, your lip between your teeth. For all you knew, asking someone to grab a butterbeer in the wizarding world was the muggle equivalent to proposing.
George flashed you a grin that was almost childlike, it was mesmerising, so sweet and pure and you almost wished you’d brought your camera to take a picture of it. “I thought you’d never ask.”
With a giggle you let him grab your hand and lead you excitedly towards a building that had “The Leaky Cauldron” written above the door. When you got inside, George led you to a small round table with two chairs and you both sat down opposite each other. As casually as you could, you rested your elbow against the table and let your cheek rest against your fist, for a solid few minutes, while George ordered, you curiously looked around the pub until your gaze finally rested on George who was already looking at you with a soft smile, “Having fun?” He asked, genuinely curious.
You nodded your head, “Mhm, are you? I’m sure getting up at the crack of dawn to take me shopping isn’t something someone like you would usually like to do for fun,” you said, becoming slightly self conscious when you realised that he probably wasn’t enjoying the morning as much as you were. This was all normal for him, you’d nearly forgotten.
George gave you a perplexed look, “Course I’m having fun, love. But, what do you mean someone like me?”
You shrugged, once again pushing down the butterflies that arose in your stomach from the pet name, “I dunno, you’re just- you’re mischievous and fun and… I don’t know, shopping for stuff with me doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d want to do. I just hope Sirius didn’t force you into it,” you admitted shyly, smiling gratefully at the waiter when he placed the mugs of golden liquid on the table.
George chewed on his bottom lip for a second before he shook his head, “He didn’t force me. I sort of, well, I sort of forced him to let me take you. He wanted Professor Lupin to do it but I…” he let out an exaggerated sigh before giving you a smile, “I wanted to spend time with you,” he confessed sweetly, watching happily as a smile formed on your lips and you tried to hide it in the rim of your butterbeer. He laughed when your face lit up once the liquid hit your lips, “Like it?”
“This stuff is amazing,” you almost shouted, taking another large sip from the drink, “No wonder you all love it so much.”
George snickered, “Just in case it wasn’t clear; I’m having a lot of fun with you,” he said all too casually, taking a sip of his drink.
“Where to now?” You wondered, after you’d finished your drinks and set off back towards the floo network.
George shot you a cheeky look and wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m taking you back to headquarters.”
“Sounds ominous,” you commented, following him into the fireplace, nervously.
“D’you want a tip?” George asked out of the blue and you looked up at him expectantly, nodding. “The dizziness isn’t as bad if you keep your eyes open,” he whispered, taking your hand once again and throwing down the same green powder from earlier and shouting a new location that you hadn’t heard before. You cringed as the world began to spin, listening to George’s advice hadn’t helped much as the transportation was just as awful as it had been the first time. Unbeknownst to you, you were squeezing George’s hand like your life depended on it, George’s thumb had resumed brushing circles around your hand in response, the harsh squeezing didn’t bother him at all, not when it was you doing the squeezing. Just like earlier, George led you out of the fireplace and into the unfamiliar sitting room. Though the room was completely unfamiliar it was full of faces you immediately recognised, one face in particular standing out above all the rest.
In a second you’d dropped not only George’s hand, but all of your shopping bags to the floor carelessly and hurled yourself towards the boy who had already begun rushing towards you the second he caught sight of you appearing in the fireplace. Your bodies collided with so much force that you nearly sent each other tumbling to the ground, laughter sounded from both of you as you swayed the other, almost roughly, the way you always did when reuniting after an extended period of time.
“Glad to see you in one piece, Harry,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips, opting not to call him Haz in front of all of his wizard friends lest they tease him, not to mention you’d become quite possessive of the nickname, you wouldn’t be too pleased if anyone else started adopting it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.
“Yeah, you too,” his smile was as wide as could be when he shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”
“Do you want me to pinch you?” You teased, jokingly taking his cheek between your thumb and your pointer, giving the skin between them a gentle squeeze. Harry swatted your hand away with a low chuckle and unraveled his arms from around you.
“Alright, you two, if you’re ready we have some matters we need to discuss with our newest member,” Sirius’ voice sounded from behind you, a knowing look on his face as he watched Harry sneakily pinch your arm in retaliation. He had to fight the urge he felt to reminisce on his old school days; when he’d purposely annoy James, Remus or Peter and receive the exact same mockingly vengeful look that you’d just given Harry.
“I’ll bring your things to the kitchen,” George announced, reminding you of his presence before he walked rather quickly out of the room, bags clutched in his hands.
Harry snorted out a laugh when Sirius followed George out of the room, leaving the both of you alone. Harry wiggled his eyebrows and did his best to make his voice take on a sultry tone, “he’s bringing your things to the kitchen.”
“Shut your mouth, Potter,” you replied, pinching his cheek for the second time and tossing your arm around his shoulder, him doing the same as he led you to what you assumed was the kitchen.
“Do I have your permission to open my mouth to tell you something,” Harry asked lightly, stopping so you were both standing outside a closed wooden door.
“I’ll allow it,” you answered, smiling softly at your best friend.
Harry grinned, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Haz,” the boy groaned at the name but made no further comment, he pushed the wooden door open and walked inside.
The room held a long table where many adults were sat, chatting in hushed whispers when you entered the room, some of whom you recognised and some you didn’t. Mrs. Weasley was fluttering about the table, filling people’s tea cups before she spotted you. The woman, who you’d only ever met briefly at King’s Cross station one year, rushed over to you and greeted you warmly, “Hello, dear! Come, come sit down!” She ushered you to a vacant chair beside George and across from Fred, Harry took the seat on your other side. “I trust you got everything you needed from Diagon Alley? I hope that son of mine didn’t cause any trouble for you,” you gave her a friendly smile and shook your head.
“Yes, we were able to find what we needed and George was very helpful,” Mrs. Weasley, seemingly satisfied with your answer, offered a gentle smile to you and George. She then pushed a cup of tea towards you before sitting down herself.
Beneath the table George bumped his knee lightly against yours, but didn’t break from his conversation with his twin as he left his knee pressed against yours. You didn’t draw attention to it either, simply letting your knee relax against his as the witches and wizards at the long table grew quiet in favour of staring at you wordlessly.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard the news of the seer we’ve acquired,” Sirius’ commanding voice broke the silence as he stood up from his chair, and placed his palms against the table, “I’ve brought her here today so that we may discuss proceedings to ensure her safety.”
“Yes,” a toneless drawl, drawn out nasally from the end of the table drew your attention to a black haired man at the opposite end of the table, “and what of Mr. Potter’s presence?” He asked, almost menacingly. Right off the bat, you didn’t like the greasy haired man. He was rigid and his face sported a permanent snarl and from across the table you could already tell; he wasn’t on your side.
“She’s my best friend, I’m here to make sure she’s not going to be put in any unnecessary danger,” Harry told the man shortly, in a tone that he’d more than likely perfected after having spoken to the man previously.
“As touching as that may be,” the older man snarled, “you are not a member of the Order.”
“Oh, enough, Serverus,” Sirius scoffed, pulling his hand down his face in exasperation before he let his eyes settle on Harry, “Perhaps you should wait upstairs for now. We’ll let you know of any significant updates.”
“I’ll tell you everything later, promise,” you whispered quietly, linking his pinky with yours beneath the table before he stropily took his leave.
“As I was saying,” Sirius spared Severus a glare and continued, “As we know, Yn is an unregistered wizard with an unregistered wand, meaning she won’t be on the radar of The Ministry of Magic. On the downside of this, seeing as her power manifested late, she is also untrained.”
All gazes fell to you once more, only Remus’ eyes were staring softly, crinkled at the edges from the smile on his lips, “I’ll be tutoring her in Defence Against the Dark Arts over the summer. She’ll catch up quickly, no doubt,” you smiled gratefully at him from your spot, relaxing a bit knowing that you’d actually be learning how to defend yourself the wizard way.
“I suppose I will be tasked with teaching the art of Occlumency? A seer with an easily accessible mind is hardly an asset,” Severus drawled. You didn’t have a clue what occlumency was, in all honesty, but you kept your mouth shut in favour of asking Remus when the meeting was over.
The meeting soon drew to a close, the older Order members slinking to one end of the table to arrange the schedule for your glorified summer school while you, Fred and George snuck away to find Harry. You found him sitting against the headboard of a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, “How’d it go?”
“Take a guess, mate, Snape had a right sour look on his face the whole time,” Fred answered, sitting on the bed across from Harry’s. George sat beside him and you made your way to sit with Harry.
“Ah, so that was the infamous professor Snape?” All three boys nodded, looks of exhaustion on their faces, “I don’t trust him. Something is very off about him,” you spoke thoughtfully and the boys nodded in agreement once again.
“I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him,” George said, his brows furrowed.
Fred snorted and clapped his twin roughly on the shoulder, “Getting a bit jealous are you, Georgie?” Harry laughed along with Fred while you blushed lightly and George felt heat rising up the nape of his neck.
“Sod off,” he muttered, but made no attempt to deny that he was slightly jealous of all the alone time his old evil potions professor would be getting with the girl he was harbouring feelings for.
The afternoon quickly turned into the evening and before long you were gathering your things and preparing to return to Cecillia’s. Harry would be heading back to the Dursley’s later that night, much to his dismay. You told him you’d be back on Privet Drive at some point the next morning since Cecillia would be dropping you home, as she promised your parents, so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone for too long.
That summer came and went in a bit of a blur. Two days in each week were spent learning how to protect yourself against the dark arts with Remus. He’s an amazing teacher, that couldn’t be disputed. In the space of only two months he had you duelling like you’d been doing it since the day you were born. Of course, you were thrilled to be bonding with your wand and developing (according to Remus) a very impressive skill for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But, on top of that, the shared conversations and exchanging of stories over hefty mugs of hot chocolate with the werewolf had been a huge highlight of your summer, and had caused the two of you to grow exponentially closer.
September was nearing and with it came a stiff breeze that prompted the hair on your arms to stand alert as you waited by the bus stop, the one just down the road from your house. Today was to be an important lesson with Remus, he hadn’t told you what the lesson would entail, but he had said that it was a charm that was “of the utmost importance”.
Although June, July and August were technically your summer holidays, you’d barely had a second to rest. You were, at this point, running on fumes and sheer will power. Extensively using magic was bound to wear you out, however, getting a good night’s rest after a gruelling training session had become something of a luxury for you. Visions of the future and retellings of past torments plagued your dreams and allowed you no time to rest. One vision in particular had been reoccurring, it arrived every night for the past two weeks, taunting you. The autumn chill that dripped down your spine reminded you of the premonition, having your hairs standing due to fright, rather than cold. It was always the same, no details ever shifted or warped and, unfortunately, the experience never grew any less harrowing. The warning that the vision brought about weighed on you heavily and followed you around like a stray cat. Images of a cold, desolate, blue-hued cellar lived behind your eyes, the phantom feeling of freezing metal shackles weighed on your wrists painfully and the undiluted terror combined with the indescribable agony brought about by the unfamiliar wand shoved against your throat had you forcing yourself to stay awake until you physically couldn’t anymore, each and every night. Nobody knew about the vision, you didn’t want to worry them, though, you knew that your distress was beginning to become visible; dark bags were prominent beneath your eyes, Harry had watched you fall asleep in the middle of the day, often on his shoulder, almost everyday that week and Remus could tell by the sluggish movements of your wand that your mind was elsewhere.
A few minutes passed before your bus arrived, the journey to Grimmauld Place was quite long but you couldn’t seem to warm up to floo travel, so going on a regular bus was the better option. When the red double decker pulled up, you greeted the driver with a smile and paid for your ticket. You made your way up to the second story and sat right at the front. The bus, as it normally tended to be, was empty. Resting your head against the window, you let your eyes slip shut, the noises of tree branches brushing against the speeding windows lulling you into a, hopefully, peaceful sleep.
Thankfully when you woke up, no visions lingered. You woke up just in time too as the bus was rounding up to your stop. As usual, Remus waited for you at the bus stop, his hands shoved deep in his tattered jacket pockets and a gentle smile on his lips.
Still groggy from your nap, when you exited the bus you greeted Remus with a tired wave.
“Dare I say you haven’t been sleeping well, dear?” He said gently, walking alongside you towards the house.
You thought about it for a second, perhaps telling someone wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “I’ve just, well, I’ve been having this nightmare,” you started, growing nervous just thinking about it.
“Nightmare or vision?” He pressed as you walked into the house.
Guilt creeped into your chest upon seeing the clear worry on his face, “I think it’s a vision.”
Remus nodded quietly, placing his hand on the small of your back and pushing you in the direction of the living room. He gave you a warm smile, when you sat down on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it over your lap. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we can discuss this,” he suggested.
“I thought you had an important lesson for today?” He only shook his head, smiling lightly.
He made his way to the door wordlessly and returned within two minutes with two big, steaming mugs in his hands. Remus handed you a mug and sat down beside you on the sofa, accepting your invitation to pull the blanket over his lap too.
“Now tell me; what has been going on in that wonderful mind of yours?”
You took in a deep breath, staring into the hot chocolate and avoiding his understanding gaze, “It happened for the first time around two weeks ago. I thought that it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like a dream but I thought that if I kept telling myself it was I would start to believe it,” you started, taking a sip of your drink before going back to staring at it, “But it kept coming back. Every night for the last two weeks. I haven’t been able to sleep, I’ve been too scared to,” your voice was small as you made the confession. You hated that the feeling of helplessness was beginning to wash over you yet again.
“What happens in this vision?” At his question, you placed your cup on the floor and turned to face him fully, turning on the sofa and pulling your knees up to your chest.
“It’s always the same. I wake up and the first thing I know is that I’m absolutely freezing. I’m in this cellar-like thing. I’m chained up by my wrists and my feet are barely touching the ground… I can’t see anyone but I can feel-“ your breath hitched and you rushed the swipe the tears that were falling away from your cheeks, “I can feel a wand against my throat, it’s pressing hard. There’s a whisper, it’s quiet and ghostly and I can barely make it out but I hear them say; crucio.”
Remus’ eyes widened in horror.
“Then I feel nothing but agonising pain and then I wake up,” Remus’ eyebrows furrowed.
“You’ve had this same vision every night?” You nodded.
“I know I should have said something but I didn’t want anyone to worry,” it was then that Remus grabbed your hands and looked at you with a sense of urgency you didn’t know he could possess.
“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” his eyes were wild and his hands shook lightly as they held yours, “You-Know-Who is back. There are already reports of certain Wizards going missing and none of us have any doubt that it’s his doing. And although I- we- care for you a great deal, it would serve us all well to remember that you’re a detrimental piece in this war. If he catches wind of you, he’ll stop at nothing to take you from us,” your heart was now running at the speed of a hummingbird. “We have a plan in place to keep you safe, I fear we may have to implement it sooner than planned.”
Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Order of the Phoenix, all of whom looked grave. Cecillia sat to your right while Nymphadora Tonks occupied the seat to your left. You had the pink haired auror to thank for your duelling capabilities, as well as Remus of course. Her presence was comforting, she made it a point to shoot you a wink every time she caught your eyes looking more fearful than usual.
“Our original plan will need to be tweaked, I ran into Narcissa Malfoy in Diagon Alley and she very plainly insinuated that I was a person of interest in the death eating community,” Cecillia informed the table, a, for lack of a better word, bitchy tone laced in her voice. She’d told you many of her Hogwarts stories, you could recall her telling you that she and the woman she’d mentioned, Narcissa, had once been good friends until around their fourth year. She hadn’t told you what exactly had happened, only that it had been messy.
“What was the original plan?” You asked, growing frustrated with the Order’s lack of communication skills.
Thankfully, being one of the younger members of the group, Tonks understood your frustrations and spoke up on behalf of the group, regardless of whether they were ready for you to know or not; she understood that it was your life they were coordinating.
“We talked about relocating you to CeCe’s. We also, and far more pressingly, planned on erasing all traces of you from both the muggle and wizard world. Which would mean using a memory charm on your family and friends in the muggle world,” Tonks explained, eyes locked on yours while everyone else in the room glared daggers at the purple haired girl.
“Yes. Though we also planned on telling you this information with a far more delicate approach,” Snapped Molly Weasley from the end of the table, causing Fred, who sat to her left, to roll his eyes.
“She’s been riddled with visions of being ruthlessly tortured with an unforgivable curse for the past two weeks. I think the time for delicacy is long passed,” the older of the two twins practically scoffed. George nodded in agreement.
“Besides,” he set his gaze on you, eyes genuine and unwavering as he spoke, “she’s strong enough to handle the truth. It’s time you all stopped acting like she isn’t.”
The table fell silent. His words hung in the air as many of the adults hung their heads.
“By memory charm I’m assuming you mean obliviate?” You broke the silence, if you could you hoped to start an open conversation with the experienced witches and wizards that surrounded you.
“Yes. They’re completely reversible and once the war is over I’ll restore all of the memories.” Cecillia said.
“We know it’s a huge ask, dear, but it’s our best chance at keeping you out of that wretched creature’s hands,” Molly attempted to soothe both you and herself when she pictured what it would like to be in your shoes, how she’d feel if she had no other choice but to be forgotten by the thing she valued the most; her family. Molly Weasley had never been very good at hiding her maternal instincts, over the summer that fact had become glaringly obvious to you. You and Harry had laughed about how the children of Privet Drive had a special place in her heart.
“I understand,” you told her sadly, chewing on the inside of your lip, “I’m guessing by the atmosphere in the room that I won’t be home to say goodbye before you wipe their memories,” you shifted yours eyes from person to person, stopping when Cecillia took your hand firmly in hers.
Her lips were downturned and her eyes filled with guilt, she shook her head mournfully, “I’m afraid we can’t risk it, my darling. Even being here places you in danger at the moment.”
“Where will she go then? If CeCe’s place isn’t an option we’ll have to find a safe house,” Sirius sounded and, simultaneously, both Fred and George stood up, shoulder to shoulder with very professional expressions on their faces.
“We may be able to help with that, actually. George, if you would,” Fred started, nodding to his twin who straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out over so slightly.
“Thank you, Fred. As you know, we have a property for Weasley Wizard Wheezes secured and we’ll be living in the flat above where the shop will be,” everyone at the table, including yourself, stared at the twins in confusion, not quite sure where they were going with their little pitch until Fred took over again.
“And that flat has three bedrooms,” he said, a smirk growing on his thin lips.
George spoke again, “Which means there’s one for me and one for Fred.”
“Which means there’s one spare,” Fred grinned wickedly.
Tonks let out an impressed laugh once the penny finally dropped, “We apparate her in and nobody would ever know a thing. Nobody other than those of us in the room know that Y/n is a friend of the Weasley’s, plus us visiting the joke shop wouldn’t raise any suspicion. I have to give it to them, it’s a great idea,”
“And one of the two of us will always be within shouting distance if anything happens,” George added, somewhat pleadingly.
Sirius looked across the table at you, “Y/n, it’s up to you. Whatever you decide will be final, we won’t interfere,” he promised sincerely. It was an easy decision, but still, it weighed heavily on your chest. In all honesty, you weren’t worried about your location, staying with the twins would surely be a light and fun time amidst all the doom and gloom. Your worry was that you would, once again, be handing over your control. Sirius dressed it up as though it was your choice, but you knew that this was probably their best option and in reality you really had no other choice than to move in with Fred and George.
“Sounds good to me,” you whispered halfheartedly, eyes dropping to stare at your lap as your teeth pulled anxiously at the skin of your lips.
“So it’s settled then,” Remus said, “Y/n will go with Fred and George tonight.”
Abruptly, you pushed your chair away from the table and stood up. Sparing nobody a glance, you left the room as quickly as you possibly could, before the lump in your throat could choke you or the tears that pooled in your eyes spilled like water through a broken dam. George made a move to rise from his seat only for Remus to stop him by placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Give her a moment.”
You found yourself locked in the second story bathroom, sitting in the bath. Your legs hung out over the side of the tub while your head was tilted back against the black tiled wall. As hard as you tried to prevent them, tears were streaming down the expense of your cheeks, neck and beneath the neckline of your shirt. The minutes ticked by yet your chest continued to rise and fall rapidly due to the sobs that shook it, your breath uneven. Visions of brutal torture were bad enough when you were in your own home, in your own warm bed, with your parents just a room away and ready to make you a hot cup of tea after you woke up screaming. Now, the visions would without a doubt continue to plague you, unlike before though, you wouldn’t be waking up in a familiar setting, nor would you fall asleep in the comfort of your own mattress, when you woke up screaming so loud that your throat grew raw, your comfort would rely on two seventeen year old boys who seldom took things seriously. It’s not that you didn’t trust them, no, you trusted them with your life- you are trusting them with your life, it’s just that there was already a lot going on in your mind at the moment, moving in with your crush and his identical twin brother isn’t exactly your idea of a nerve killer.
A knock against the bathroom door pulled you from your thoughts. You rushed to wipe your tears with your sleeves, sniffling, “Come in,” you choked out. Cursing your voice for breaking when you spoke.
Remus’ head poked through the door, his body following soon after. Even in an atmosphere as dense as this one, a sense of gentle calm always followed Remus wherever he went. Clumsily, the werewolf slid into the bath beside you with a low “oof” sound, mimicking your position with his much longer legs dangling closer to the wooden floor than your own.
“CeCe has gone to collect your things for you and get Harry, then, I believe, perform the spell,” he eyed you cautiously, hyper aware of your glassy eyes and puffy face. When your eyes widened and you whipped your face towards him, his stomach twisted into knots, he hated seeing you like this. He could sympathise with your feelings. When James and Lily were killed, and Sirius went to Azkaban and even when Peter was presumed dead, Remus had been left with a vicious frustration fuelled by his belief that he was utterly powerless in his own life. He could see in your eyes that that same notion was starting to creep up on you too.
“Already?” You gasped out, pulse rising again, a slight panic setting in. “It won’t hurt them will it? The spell?” You fretted, looking pleadingly to the man beside you.
He shook his head, tenderly taking your hand and placing it against his clothed chest, his beating heart present against the palm of your shaking hand. “I promise you that they won’t feel a thing. They will go on living an exciting life, travelling, seeing the world safely while you’re away. When this is all over we’ll place their memories of you back in their minds and it will be as though you were never gone.” Your teeth found the inside of your cheek again, gnawing relentlessly at the skin as you failed miserably to hold back a fresh set of tears. Remus squeezed the hand he held against his chest. “Let it out, Y/n. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered, heart sinking lower when your bottom lip quivered and you let a rasped sob leave your body. With a deep sigh, Remus used the hand he was already holding as leverage to pull you into him, wasting no time he enveloped you in his arms, holding you securely as you cried against his chest. Admittedly, it felt good to let it out, Remus’ hand rubbed soothing circles against your heaving back and eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you calmed down, your tear ducts all dried out.
Remus held you in his arms for a while longer, even though you’d stopped crying, he could feel your body as it continued to shake. “I can’t promise you it will all be okay, but I can assure you that myself and Sirius, and everyone else for that matter, will be there for you at the drop of a hat; whatever you need,” he spoke against your hair.
“Whatever I need?” You echoed, the pit in your stomach ever growing.
“Of course,” he confirmed.
Remus startled slightly when you suddenly tore yourself away from him. As best you could in your awkward position, you turned to face him and grabbed his hands with as much urgency as he had done with yours. “I need you to do something for me,” Remus furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded his head anyway.
“If anything happens to me… Don’t make them remember,” you instructed, maybe the request would’ve seemed radical if you had said it to anyone else, but you knew that Remus had experienced losses like no one else you knew, perhaps Harry came close but even his shortcomings couldn’t compare to Remus’. “It’d only cause them pain. If I die and they’re happily living none the wiser, leave them be, please,” the man let out a heavy sigh and took a moment to take you in. Your eyes were hard yet pleading, they left him no room to negotiate and he understood perfectly where you were coming from.
“Alright,” he agreed before raising his eyebrow and readjusting himself to get a better look at you, “However you should know; no matter what may come of this war, none of us will forget about you. In such a short time you’ve given us so much… you gave Harry his first friendship, a friendship that he cherishes more than anything in the world, I might add. You saved Sirius from death, my fiancé and Harry’s godfather. Mentoring you has given Cecillia a new lease of life and Molly Weasley one more child to knit jumpers for at Christmas,” he took a brief pause then went on, “For the sake of saving time I won’t even begin to tell you what you mean to the twins. My point is;” there was a melancholic type of smile on his face when he paused again, as if he was imagining what it would be like to remember you fondly if you did in fact die for the cause, “What you’re asking is incredibly selfless. And while your mother and father may not remember how wonderful you are, we all will.” Remus chuckled lowly when you shuffled your way back into his arms, squeezing his middle tightly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and delicately pressed his lips to the top of your head. You held so much love in your heart for the man who was currently cradling you in his arms. You debated telling him, you weren’t sure if it was entirely appropriate but after the speech he’d just given you couldn’t have cared less, “Remus?”
“Hm?”
“I love you,” you murmured, looking up at him innocently.
He offered you a toothy smile and breathed out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” With a content nod, you rested your head back against his chest, enjoying his soothing heartbeats against your ear. A melodic hum rumbled against your cheek, a quiet giggle left your mouth when you recognised the melody to the song he was humming. The tune of “Rhiannon” by Fleetwood Mac floated through the bathroom bringing a genuine smile to your lips. The werewolf’s humming was interrupted by another knock against the bathroom door, whoever was knocking didn’t wait for a response before entering the room. Sirius stepped in and quietly shut the door behind him. He didn’t question you and Remus' position in the bath but simply slid into the tub on the other side of you, sandwiching you between himself and Remus. The black haired man let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the tiles.
“The mother hens downstairs are worrying up a storm,” he said in exasperation, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tonks so riled up about someone’s safety. I tasked Molly with making you some hot chocolate to keep her occupied”
“Maybe I should go back down…” you muttered halfheartedly, begrudgingly peeling yourself away from Remus’ warm body.
Sirius gave you an apologetic look, “I held them off for as long as I could.”
“Thanks,” you whispered, bumping your shoulder to his, making him chuckle. After pulling yourself out of the bath, rather clumsily, you took a second to check yourself over in the mirror.
“You’re glowing, darling,” Sirius all but sang from behind you and you couldn’t stop the slight snort that escaped you.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“If you don’t believe me go on downstairs and ask George what he thinks,” Sirius teased, wiggling his eyebrows and receiving a light shove from his fiancé who couldn’t hide his grin.
“Leave her alone, love,” he chastised weakly, “You look perfectly fine, Y/n. Go downstairs and get something to drink, you need to rehydrate.” A bittersweet smile broke out on your lips, his fatherly tone simultaneously soothed you and left you yearning for what you were in the process of losing. Trying not to dwell on the sad fact, you left the bathroom and slowly descended the stairs.
As you assumed, the second you stepped back into the kitchen, Molly began to fret over you as if her life depended on it. Sipping on the hot chocolate she’d given you, you were reminded of how desperately tired you were. All the crying hadn���t helped ease the heaviness in your eyes either. Every bone in your body felt heavy for that matter, you were struggling to even hold your head up.
“You can lean against my shoulder if you’d like,” George’s voice broke you from your hazed state, you’d completely forgotten he was sitting beside you despite his leg that was pressed against yours beneath the table. You gave him a sleepy but grateful smile, as subtly as you could you scooched closer to the ginger and slotted yourself against his side, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “Will you keep me awake until Harry and Cecillia get here?” You requested in a slurred murmur, your eyes fluttering between open and shut.
“Of course,” was all he said, he looked down at you adoringly, smiling like an idiot when you nuzzled into his shoulder, your nose rubbing against his neck. Try as he might, George couldn’t pull his eyes away from your drowsy face. “What do you propose we do?”
You shrugged your shoulders lightly, “Just talk.”
“How would you like your new room decorated?” He asked quietly, his head tilted down while he spoke to you, so you could hear him and so he wouldn’t ruin the lulled bubble you’d managed to obtain between you by talking too loudly. A sweet smile grew on your face, a smile that all but knocked all the breath out of George’s lungs when you angled your head to make eye contact.
“Can I have a double bed?” George snorted at your question and shook his head no.
“Nothing smaller than a king. What else?”
You pretended to ponder for a moment, “Can we paint it?” The ginger nodded, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.
“If you want to,” he started, almost sounding nervous, “We could paint it together?” Even in your sleep deprived state you hadn’t missed the vulnerability in his voice, it was the same vulnerability that you’d noticed when he’d asked you to go get a butterbeer with him a couple of months ago.
“I’d love that,” you told him, your answer causing his lips to twist into a pleased smile, “How do you feel about the colour green?”
Immediately, his smile dropped and he let out a disgusted scoff, “Green is a Slytherin colour.”
“You keep forgetting that I don’t get the whole house sorty thing,” you reminded him, not happy with his reasoning for hating your favourite colour. “Besides, I love green, it’s my favourite colour.” You told him truthfully. Not content with his disgruntled facial expression you began to defend your preference, “A lot of beautiful things are green; you’ve got grass, trees, emeralds- did you know that emeralds are really useful for enhancing psychic abilities? It also evokes clarity of thought,” you rambled, willing yourself to be quiet when you registered George’s fond expression.
The look of endearment aimed at you brought butterflies to life in your stomach, effectively waking you up somewhat.
“Do you have any emerald?” He asked, you assumed he was only feigning interest, you didn’t know that he could’ve listened to you go on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.
“No, not yet. I should probably get some though.” You said through a yawn. Your breath against his neck made him giggle, it was pure and unsuspecting but you took note of it. Everything about George Weasley felt like sunshine to you, his laugh filled your chest with warmth whenever you heard it, his eyes found yours like a lighthouse, guiding your lost mind back to the present each time your gazes connected. His voice, like his laugh, warmed you up when you were cold, giving you a reason to stay awake when you’d rather just slip away. In conjunction with the sun, even if you couldn’t physically see him, you never doubted that he was always there. As well as all of that, like your favourite tarot card; The Sun, he signified good things, hope that hard times will end with you on top, contentment and happiness. While your thoughts consisted of George’s similarities to the sun, his were consumed with the, in his mind, overwhelmingly cheesily romantic notion that you were the moon and the stars, he would’ve cringed if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe it. Everything that made the night sky magnificent was reflected in you. Like the stars, you were mysterious and captivating. Nothing seemed to compare to your glow or beauty, if you were to ask him what he preferred; you or the night sky on a clear night, he’d happily ignore a blank, starless sky in favour of simply staring at you as you went on tangent after tangent about crystals or tarot cards.
The pair of you were pulled from your musings when Harry rushed through the kitchen door looking unmistakably heartbroken, ever the empath when it came to his best friend, Harry’s heart sank the moment he laid eyes on your form, limp against George’s side. The second you saw him you all but ripped yourself from George’s side and the older redhead felt a surge of irrational jealousy begin to build in his chest at how fast you left his hold in favour of the chosen one. He knew it was ridiculous, he’d heard the way each of you respectively talked about each other, at this point you were practically siblings. But he supposed it was rational to be jealous when you liked someone the way he liked you.
Quickly, you crossed the room to Harry who had his arms already outstretched. He knew you were emotionally exhausted when you didn’t bear hug him. You meekly slid your arms beneath his open zip-up hoodie, tucked your head beneath his chin and didn’t say a word. “I shouldn’t bother asking if you’re okay then,” Harry muttered to himself, leaning his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his lanky arms around your frame.
“Did Cecillia remember to bring Astra?” You asked, it was all you wanted to know about the night’s events.
“She’s in her cage in the living room, darling,” Cecilia said, walking into the room looking guilty.
“C’mon, let’s go have a chat,” Harry suggested, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs to his unofficial room. Once inside the room you sat down on the edge of the bed, the blue duvet softly creasing beneath you. Harry plopped himself down beside you and offered you a gesture that was always saved for when either of you felt the other was on the edge of something dangerous. Your hands rested against your lap and he deftly slid his pinky over yours, intertwining your two littlest fingers. It was such a familiar experience; he’d done it when your grandparents died, when you’d cried over failed exams that you worked hard for, and in turn, you did it for him when he’d felt as though he had no place in the world, when he’d open up about his parents and when Cedric died and the ministry dragged his name through the mud you’d find your pinky tangled with his almost every night after he’d sneak over to your place after another nightmare or panic attack. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You shook your head, “Not tonight. I don’t want to cry anymore,” you croaked out, looking straight ahead of you at the grey painted wall.
“I understand,” he said, sighing and dropping his head onto your shoulder, “Let’s talk about something else then.”
“Like what, Haz?”
Harry snorted out a chuckle, “Like the way George looked like he wanted to hex me when you left him to come to me,” he teased, a smug lilt to his voice.
“He wasn’t teasing me, perhaps I’ll go back to him,” you grumbled, ignoring Harry’s childish giggles.
“Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smacked his arm lightly with your free hand, doing a bad job of containing giggles of your own. “Don’t worry, since he’s going to be your new roommate there will be plenty of time for “oh George I’m so sleepy, please hold me until I fall asleep”,” you let out a cackle at Harry’s terrible impression of your voice, laying your cheek against his wild hair.
“That is so not what was going on, Haz,” you defended with a tiny smile.
Harry let out an airy, disbelieving chuckle, “Then what was going on?”
“He just said I could lean on him until you and Cecillia arrived and we just started chatting about how I wanna decorate my room,” you explained truthfully and Harry nodded.
“Riveting,” he mumbled sarcastically. Despite his snarky comment, the boy removed his head from your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “Jokes aside, I’m glad you’re staying with him, I know he’ll look after you for me,” you rolled your eyes at the sentiment.
“I don’t need to be looked after,” you reminded him, looking up at him with a chastising smile.
He rolled his eyes right back at you, jostling you slightly in his arms, “No. But you like to be.”
You threw your head back in laughter, “Yeah, I suppose I do.” You did. You quite like both doting on people and being doted on, you’d grown up in an affectionate family so it was no wonder really.
“It’s getting late. We should get you settled into your new home,” Harry announced, pulling himself and you up from the bed, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you look terrible. You need sleep.”
“Thank you, Harry. Just what every girl wants to hear before moving in with her crush,” you joked, gently hitting your hip against his.
The kitchen was quiet when you returned, it seemed everyone had grown tired from the dramatic events of the evening.
“Ready to go then?” Fred asked, his coat already on and a handful of your bags in his hands.
“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”
After saying goodbye to everyone you, Fred and George traveled to their apartment by floo, to your dismay. The apartment was bare as they’d only just moved in but you could see it had lots of potential for becoming a cozy home for the twins.
As your first night in your new residence began, your aching eyes and tired mind didn’t leave you with any time to dwell on current events, the second your head made contact with the pillow you were out like a light. A dreamless slumber welcomed you for a while until your peace was broken by the all too familiar nightmare.
The first thing you recognised was the burn coming from your wrists. Shackles adorned them and effectively held your hands high above your head, stretching them uncomfortably. Goosebumps painted the expanse of your arms and legs, due to the freezing temperature in the nondescript cellar. A feeling of hopelessness planted firmly in your chest, the feeling only hightening when the familiar echo of footsteps, heavy and loud, drifted from the corridor outside of your field of vision. You knew who was approaching, you’ve lived this before, and so, you held your lip between your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut. The face of the dark wizard who always brought about your intense suffering was, for the most part, completely fuzzy, unrecognisable, featureless and bone-chillingly terrifying. You’d learned over the last two weeks of having this vision that it was less harrowing if you closed your eyes.
“I’ll ask you once more,” The voice was distorted, like it was being heard through a weedy radio, ominously unplaceable, “Where is he?”
You held no control over your voice, as was the norm during visions, as you felt and heard yourself reply, “I’ll tell you once more; I’d sooner die then sell him to you.” You felt your teeth gritting and your jaw clenching while you spoke. Jaw only tightening when the pointed tip of the wizard’s wand stabbed unforgivingly against the column of your neck.
“And die you will, my dear. But not yet-“ your eyes sealed themselves shut and you did your best to shake yourself out of the vision before what you knew was coming took place, as usual, your attempts were fruitless, “-Crucio.” Just like that your body was consumed by pain, the likes of which you’d never imagined possible, until you couldn’t even register yourself screaming anymore.
You bolted upright, clutching at the sheets of your new bed. Laboured breaths left your mouth and you aimlessly gripped at your neck, where the wand had been pressed, and let the tears spill freely. Momentarily disoriented, you’d forgotten where you were. Deep, heavy bursts of air left your mouth as you hastily scurried out of bed and towards the door. Somewhat aimlessly, you gravitated to the door across the hall. A yellow hue seeped from under the frame into the otherwise dark hallway. Light flooded the hall once you managed to fumble the handle down and pull the door ajar, a discombobulated ginger greeting you with half lidded eyes, obviously having been dozing off before you disturbed his peace.
“Sorry,” you rasped once your peace of mind returned to you and you realised where you were. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t have been standing numbly in his doorway, your feet seemed to be rooted in place, you couldn’t have walked away if you wanted to.
“S’alright,” George called out to you softly, sitting up in his bed, his back against the headboard. “You can come in, you know.”
Shutting the door behind you, you nervously shuffled into the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed. George’s eyes roamed your face and he took notice of your still somewhat panicked expression, he drew his covers to the side and patted the empty space by his side. Something that always intrigued you was people’s preferred side of the bed, some people gravitated towards the left while others were more biased towards the right, but George Weasley? He slept right in the middle. The twin slept with a huge number of pillows, to the point where it was almost laughable, many of which you could only guess he’d smuggled from the Burrow.
Far too wound up to save face, you slid into his bed and didn’t shy away when he guided you into his side and tucked you tenderly beneath his lean arm. His embrace offered a greatly appreciated warmth as the chill of the dank dungeon always lingered long after the vision itself was over.
“What’re you doing up so late?” You asked, your voice gravelly. As you spoke, George effortlessly shuffled your body and his down so that your backs were resting on the mattress and not the headboard. Your head found it’s home against George’s shoulder and your hair was being tentatively twirled between his fingers.
“It’s our first night actually sleeping here. I couldn’t get to sleep,” he explained, his voice low and laced with fatigue. “I’m not really used to having my own room. It’s strange not hearing Freddie snoring or breathing.”
“I get that,” you whispered, “it’s quite comforting knowing for certain that someone is there with you.”
George nodded then. His eyes were glued to your face and he hadn’t even registered his own thought process before his lips were pressing delicately against your forehead. Today had appeared to be the day for laying all your cards out on the table, yourself and George hadn’t danced around your feelings for each other half as much as you usually did when you’d be in each other’s presence. Neither of you had the energy anymore, besides, if today’s events proved anything it was that; things were getting seriously messy as the war built momentum and it was clear that time was something that could very well be running out.
“Yeah,” he regarded you carefully, a little grin growing on his lips, “It is.”
A comfortable silence overtook the room. George’s twirling of your hair never ceased, every now and then his fingers would ghost over your shoulder and you’d catch yourself smiling against the cotton of his shirt as your eyes grew tired enough that they were close to falling shut.
Just as you were working up the motivation to lift yourself up and trudge back to your own bed, George spoke, “You can sleep here if you want, with me,” there was that innocent vulnerability again. There was never an ulterior motive when it came to him, he did things purely for the sake of making others happy, if he felt he could make a difference he simply needed to. Especially when it came to you, he realised.
“You don’t mind?” You asked, daring to peek up at him.
“Course not. I could use some company anyway.” He reassured you, his lips returning to your forehead, only this time the action held far more intention. “You don’t snore do you, love?”
You snorted out a giggle, looking up at the ginger cheekily, mischief dripping from your little grin that forced George’s heart to stutter rather violently and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. “No. But I drool.”
George’s face contorted, his nose scrunching up adorably in disgust, “Do you really?”
“Suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” You teased and he sighed deeply, his disgruntled expression melting into a soft, adoring smile.
“I should’ve expected this, I knew you couldn’t have been completely perfect,” he said, mockingly sorrowful.
You scoffed, pushing his chest lightly, “You’re doing a lot of sweet talking tonight, Mr. Weasley,” you told him and he shrugged innocently.
“Just wanted to see you smiling again, darling.”
“Yeah, well, you’re doing a good job,” you assured him, the bashful yet tired smile that stretched your lips as you gazed up at him proved that you meant what you’d just said. “I like it by the way, the sweet talking.”
At your words, a huge, shit eating smirk grew on the boy’s freckled face. He managed to rearrange your bodies so that you were still tucked under his arm but you were now facing each other at eye level. “I knew it,” he proclaimed cockily.
You raised a challenging eyebrow, biting back a smirk, “Oh did you?”
George nodded pridefully, “‘Course I did. You see, I’m a little bit psychic,” his words forced a booming laugh from your lips, your cheeks hurting from the smile he’d orchestrated.
You shook your head, smile never dulling as you let out a chastising whisper, “oh sod off.”
“I love your smile,” he said suddenly, his eyes widened in horror when he realised he’d uttered the words out loud. The world could’ve stopped in that moment and you wouldn’t have noticed, all you could take in was George’s face, his eyes searching yours for something.
Carefully, you slid from hand from his chest to his red, blushing face. You cupped his cheek gently, moving your thumb against his cheek bone, almost swooning where you lay when he nuzzled against your touch. Working up some Gryffindor courage, George mimicked your movement, removing his arm from around your shoulder and bringing his palm to rest against the curve of your jaw.
As you stared at each other, you weighed up the pros and cons of telling him that you were completely head over heels for him. Your decision, apparently taking far too long, was made for you when George tugged you impossibly closer to him.
“I wasn’t going to tell you… you’ve had so much going on I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, brown eyes boring into your soul.
“Tell me what?”
He took a deep breath, preparing himself for every possible outcome that may spring once the words on the tip of his tongue are spoken aloud, “That I love you.”
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pyroclastic727 · 4 years
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Is Amity autistic?
In the Owl House fandom, we hear a lot about how Luz is written to be ADHD. Now I would like to present the flipside: Amity is coded as autistic.
Here’s the breakdown.
Amity is touch-averse. “BuT aMiTy ToUcHeS LuZ aLL tHe TiMe” nice try. The key to autistic touch-aversion is only being okay with touch when she initiates it. And that totally matches up with Amity. See, Amity is really happy when she initiates touch with Luz. She’s also cool with it when Luz holds her hand after standing near her for enough time that Amity can predict an incoming touch. That’s because Amity consents to that touch and expects it.
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But when other people touch her? She doesn’t take kindly to that. When Luz initially bumped into her at Covention, she snapped at her and degraded her. Even when she bumped into Luz in Enchanting Grom Fright, her initial instinct was to snap at Luz, since she didn’t expect to be touched. When Hooty touched Amity’s face without consent, she flipped out and beat him up. Not even Lilith beat Hooty up when he wrapped her up in his mucus-filled tube, but Amity gave Hooty the injuries we all wanted to see him with, because he breached her boundaries without her consent. Even as late as the last episode, Amity fell over when her face got close to Luz’s on the bleachers, because she didn’t expect it.
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Amity stims. Okay, this one took me a while to catch, since most of the time, Amity is very controlled with her actions. This symptom isn’t very intense; her senses aren’t understimulated too often, and she really only does it when she’s really excited.
Mainly, when Luz offered to carry her. While she adorably scrambled for words, she also flapped her hands against her legs. At first I thought it was just a cute thing she did, but there’s more to it. She was so excited to be held by Luz that it showed up in her hands flapping...a common stim. With Amity feeling more comfortable around her new friends than the old ones, I wouldn’t be surprised to see more stimming in the future.
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Amity always has The Mask as her expression. You know, the one with her eyes half-lidded, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly downturned. I also call it the Resting Blight Face, for...reasons.
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At first I thought it was just a way to hide her true emotions, since her parents are assholes. But even though Luz makes her feel accepted, she keeps doing it. It’s more like...you know that feeling when you’re thinking really hard, or uncomfortable, or ashamed, or even just relaxed, and you can’t think of which expression to wear quickly enough, so you put on an unreadable one to tide people over? Apparently most people don’t do that, since allistic people tend to have expressions for those feelings, ones that arise naturally.
Another symptom of autism is having hard-to-read expressions, or being less expressive. In Amity’s case, it’s the fact that she doesn’t see a need to have an expression in calmer moments, so she just uses her usual expression.   
Amity hyperfixates. This has several facets, so I’ll break this down.
She initially hyperfixated on school. And that’s how she became top student. Amity Blight is who you would mistake for a “gifted student.” But make no mistake...she is not gifted, and gifted is a bullshit label used to overexert people and force them to keep school as their special interest for their entire lives (and I may have a bit of a vendetta against it). Anyways, we already know she’s a perfectionist. My theory is that Amity originally was hyperfocused on school--the Abominations track, to be exact--and that’s part of how she got so good. Then, her focus shifted, but the school expected her to keep being top student. Cue the perfectionism; she was no longer able to focus on school like she wanted to, but everyone expected her to, so she got insecure about it.
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She hyperfixates on Azura, just like Luz did. Yeah, she keeps it secret from the world, for most of the time. But she definitely likes Azura a lot. I mean, she started to reconsider her opinion on Luz when Luz offered her an Azura book. She destroyed her jock career because she tried to use an Azura move in real-life Grudgby. Her interest in Azura is long-lived, starting about the time that her interest in school would have expired (which would explain why she stayed closeted). And we can’t ignore the fact that she sees Azura in Luz and is definitely enjoying the parallels between herself and her fictional counterpart. (Which might not be a coincidence, but that’s an entirely different theory).
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She hyperfixates on Luz. Yes, part of this is a crush. But a lot of us have watched Amity’s personality go from alpha bitch to cutest little bean in the Boiling Isles, all thanks to Luz’s influence. Lumity is not a rivals-to-lovers speedrun due to bad writing, it’s due to Amity hyperfixating. She’s already extremely introspective, going so far as to keep a diary where she analyzes and makes sense of herself. It’s not a stretch to say that she identified the faults that kept her from Luz and worked hard to change those off-screen. 
Amity keeps a journal. To me, this seems like masking. You see, Amity is what people would consider to be high-functioning, since she can pass for allistic. But in order to do this, she has to put in significant effort on her part. See, when she does something that makes it so she doesn’t pass, she just sees it as a problem (since she probably doesn’t know about autism, and she passes well enough that she would totally be undiagnosed). Then she tries to fix the problem, in order to keep being perfect. 
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Amity has awkward body language. Thanks to the journal and other ways of masking, you don’t see this early on. But once she feels comfortable enough around Luz to let her guard down...she completely forgets boundaries. To review: in episodes 15-17, she throws herself at Luz, holds her formal rival’s hand for 24.71 seconds, blushes every time she sees Luz, and loudly declares her thirsty thoughts about Luz in uniform before literally running away. While some of this can be seen as normal gal pal things or crush things...you’d think a repressed wlw like Amity would try very hard not to touch Luz, so as to avoid being outed. Or at least she would do less of that stuff, so as to respect Luz’s boundaries the way she wants her boundaries to be respected. But that’s not the case, since she straight-up misses a lot of social cues. And since she feels comfortable around Luz, she doesn’t feel the pressure to be so paranoid about the cues, and can be her awkward self. From her point of view, she probably sees it as being freed from her parents’ judgment.
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Amity takes things literally, sometimes. Now, this doesn’t happen all the time, since she isn’t heavily affected by this autistic trait. But when Luz says “I’m picking up what you’re putting down” and Amity says “I’m not putting down anything” and looks down...she not only missed the conclusion Luz drew from her words, but also assumed a literal meaning from her words. I can’t come up with many other instances of this, mostly because this doesn’t happen often. I would assume that Amity missed these a lot early on, and learned how to mask/identify them.
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Amity is easily upset when things don’t go as planned. Let’s review these. In the library, she gets really mad at Luz when they end up stitched to a book, and it takes Luz’s sweet personality to get Amity to loosen up and laugh over it. When she goes to practice magic, and Luz steals her wand and uses it to get her siblings kidnapped, Amity locks Luz in a cage and assumes that she will get badly injured if she tries to fix the problems she caused. When Luz comes to her school, she panics and focus on how that doesn’t change anything. When she burns Willow’s mind, she appears absolutely terrified of being punished, flinching and bracing for impact when Luz finds her near the memories, constantly trying to distract Luz as they work together to save Willow, and hiding behind Luz when she confronts the Inner Willow. When Luz asks her to join her in Grudgby, Amity doesn’t initially agree, instead taking much more of the episode to come to terms with her involvement in it.
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Amity likes predictability. She’s not attached to routines, but she does like being able to expect things. If she makes a plan for the day, she expects that day to adhere to that plan, and she doesn’t respond well when it changes. When Luz comes to her school, she focus on how that doesn’t change anything...not how that would ruin things or complicate things. Whenever she gets involved in Luz’s shenanigans, she either gets angry, scared, or takes a while to accept it. In a broader sense, she takes a while to accept that Luz and her shenanigans are a permanent fixture in her life--sixteen episodes, to be exact.
Finally, it would make for some excellent representation. An ADHD Dominican-American bisexual protagonist is pretty groundbreaking. But an ADHD Dominican-American bisexual protagonist girl who dates an autistic wlw witch girl from another dimension is exactly the kind of intersectional representation you’d expect to see from an unrestricted Owl House crew.
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...Now, this might just be me hardcore projecting. I’m a little scared to post this because I don’t know how much of this is me reading into imaginary things, or trying to convince myself that Amity is like me. Feel free to debate/disprove me or support me in the comments. 
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blouisparadise · 3 years
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We frequently get asked what our members favorite fics are, so for today’s rec list, we asked each member of BLP to choose FIVE favorite fics for this list - no repeats allowed. Please keep in mind that this is not a complete list of our favorites - there are so many amazing BL fics out there that we all have a lot more than this! Still, we hope you enjoy. Happy reading!
1) Take Off Your Business Suit | Explicit | 3082 words
“Yes, let me get another chair.” Louis said, leaning up off of the desk. He stood up but before he could leave the office to get another chair, Harry was grabbing his hand.
The words that came out of Harry’s mouth made Louis’ knees weak and heart beat quicken. “Just sit on my lap.” Harry said. Whatever he said afterwards didn’t make it into Louis’ ears as he was moving quickly over to Harry and placing himself on Harry’s lap.
Louis would take anything Harry wanted to give him; hand touching, lap sitting, all of it. Louis hadn't realized he was holding his breath until it came out in a quiet sigh. “Okay so th-this one will be slightly different right?” He asked as he pointed at the sheet of paper in front of him.
2) Quietly Our Hearts Beat | Explicit | 7539 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Louis and Harry in the universe of ‘A Quiet Place’.
3) A Love Reaction | Explicit | 9968 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Louis’s staring up at him, head tilted slightly back, and his blue eyes are glassy, locked with Harry’s in an unblinking and gentle gaze. He looks ready to do whatever Harry says, to please him whatever way.
4) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8854 words
“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.
Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.
“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”
Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.
5) No Good Unless It’s Real | Explicit | 17021 words
Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.
6) A Springtime’s Wilt, An Autumn’s Bloom | Explicit | 20593 words
Harry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.
7) Ready To Fall | Explicit | 21220 words
“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”
“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –
“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”
“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”
8) Written In The Stars (That’s You And Me) | Explicit | 22632 words
Louis pushes himself up on one elbow and stretches enough to just barely trace his fingertips over Harry’s jawline. Harry’s eyes drop to track his movements as he does it again. “D’you feel that?” he whispers.
To him, it feels like all of the universe’s magic lives just beneath his skin when he touches Harry with intent. It feels like something special. Louis watches Harry’s lips part and wants to touch that too. He almost does, but then Harry shakes his head. “Feel what?”
9) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23561 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.
10) England Has My Bones | Explicit | 24087 words
The next time Harry thinks about calling, it’s 4.14 in the morning on a Parisian hotel balcony.
11) Like A Siren In The Night | Explicit | 24868 words
“There is an infestation in my home,” Louis hisses, righting himself quickly and pushing his way past Harry, heading directly for the kitchen. He’s rather haphazardly dressed himself, a coat thrown on over a loose flannel shirt and black pants, slippers on his feet.
Harry resists the urge to sigh, closing the door and trailing behind him slowly. “What kind of infestation?”
For all he knows, Louis is going to claim that there’s a ghost infestation. Harry has no idea what the end game is here – all he knows is that Louis has found at least three complaints a week to bring up since he’s been living on Harry’s property, and he’s been living here for six months.
It’s way too many fucking complaints, is what Harry is saying. Especially when most of them are ridiculous to start with.
12) Hold Onto This Heaven (Of Yours) | Explicit | 25213 words
An ode to being too young, too sad, and too in love.
13) The Devil’s In The Details | Explicit | 25372 words
He squeals when Harry smacks his bum as he bends over to pick up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. Harry smiles smugly at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “When are you going to start calling me professor?” He asks.
“When you actually are one,” Louis says with his hand on the doorknob. He cocks his head to the side in curiosity. “Isn’t that how words work? You did study English, right?”
Louis’ quick to slip out the door before Harry can smack him again, his laugh echoing through the hallways as he makes his way to his next class with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.
14) A Trail Of Honey Through It All | Explicit | 27086 words
The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.
15) You Fit In My Poems (Like A Perfect Rhyme) | Explicit | 27598 words
The one where Harry works in an old bookshop and Louis is the pretty stranger that ends up stranded there in the middle of a storm.
16) Where The Lights Are Beautiful | Mature | 31170 words | Sequel
The accidental bonding A/B/O fic.
17) Once Upon A Dream | Explicit | 33319 words | Sequel
Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.
18) Stuck On You | Explicit | 33983 words
Louis’ life revolves around his stickers. Harry’s life revolves around his job. The universe has decided their worlds should revolve around each other.
19) Coeur De Pirate | Explicit | 34207 words
He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.
Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”
20) What This World Is About | Explicit | 34472 words
An eighties American high school AU; there are first times, football games, and feelings.
Alternatively titled: the beginning.
21) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34589 words
Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.
22) Before We Knew | Explicit | 39830 words
Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed onto his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.
23) The Space Between | Explicit | 39917 words
Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.
Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.
24) The Sweetest Incantation | Explicit | 40580 words
Harry is a witch who's still working on developing his powers and Louis is a werecat who falls into his life and turns it upside down.
25) Worth Dying For | Explicit | 44906 words
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.
“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.
Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”
26) Tastes Like Summer, Smiles Like May | Explicit | 47519 words
A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.
27) Love’s Truest Language | Explicit | 48195 words
The first part was meant as a joke. He didn't really expect Harry to buy anything. It was just Louis’ way of softening the ‘get the fuck out’ blow.
“Where's your order forms, then?”
“I don't want your flowers.” Louis chided before directing all of his attention to the arrangement in front of him.
Harry laughed under his breath as he stood to his full height, “Who said anything about them being for you, love?”
28) Through The Wheatfields And The Coastlines | Explicit | 52855 words
The one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.
29) Latibule | Mature | 54322 words
A Spirited Away AU of sorts where Louis just wants to heal and be left alone, only for all his plans to be destroyed by the hands of an infuriating British God.
30) Warming Up To You | Explicit | 56227 words
Prompt 111: Louis and Harry are strangers that somehow got stranded during a blizzard. They find themselves in an abandoned cabin and have to cuddle for warmth. Cuddling leads to much more.
31) Feeling Borrowed, Always Blue | Explicit | 68214 words
Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected it to happen like this.
32) Curly Bun Man | Not Rated | 68597 words
I just paid for these Doritos but they're stuck in the vending machine and I know you've been waiting but I am not going to let you buy something until you help me. AU.
33) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76584 words | Sequel
“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.
Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.
“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.
Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.
34) Through Struggles, To The Stars | Explicit | 80582 words
Louis is a Starfleet captain trying to find his place in the universe. Harry is a prince just trying to do what's right.
35) I Want You So Much (But I Hate Your Guts) | Mature | 83648 words
AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can't do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor's certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.
That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn't seem to like him complicates matters, though.
36) Where You Lay | Explicit | 86038 words
When Louis's upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates' best mate, Harry Styles.  Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.
37) And Down The Long And Silent Street | Mature | 86090 words
Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.
38) Swim In The Smoke | Explicit | 101778 words
“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.
Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.
“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.
39) The Galaxy’s Edge | Explicit | 113921 words
Things never quite go as they are planned during a simple rescue job.
40) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices | Explicit | 126057 words | Sequel (WIP)
A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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Anon Ask | Caius Volturi x F!Witch Reader: Punishments
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Canon Divergent Dora is true mated to Renata because I <3 Renata Fight Me
Reader is a Witch.
You are a human. Who managed because of a latent heritage of being a Witch to wander past Heidi into the Throne Room thinking it’s a tour.
You’re not stupid, you walk right in and get near the dais and look around and realize that this is not just a tour.
Sighing, you glance around and face palm. “Ahhhhhh Fuck My Life.”
The Kings of Volterra are eyeing you with amusement.
You sigh, and glare UP at the throne of a very, very gorgeous almost elfin, platinum haired King who’s GLARING back at you with a raised brow and a scowl.
“So ah do I get to pick who offs me?”
All vampires just PAUSE.
“Because okay, if I’m gonna die.” You point at Caius. “That one. You. You’ve got dibs Sir.”
Caius is Shooketh.
This little human has got some guts.
He hates humans. HATES humans.
So why when he snatches you up and you just look at him with those big eyes, and a small smile “just make it quick hm?”
You wait, eyes closed.
Caius pauses, growling and suddenly NOPE you’re picked up and ZOOM.
Aro: The fuck just happened?
You’re tucked away in his inner sanctuary of his rooms, sat down on a chair. “Sit RIGHT here human. If you move I shall be displeased, you won’t like what happens if you make me angry.”
“Uhhhhhh kay.”
Caius goes and feeds and after he sits amongst his brothers. “I’m keeping it.” He growls
Turns out he can keep you because you’re not human! YAY!
“So am I like a bunny.”
“Less than a Rabbit you’re human.” Caius would growl at you.
“Mmmkay.”
How things Go:
You are the chillest bitch to ever chill. Life has not been great, in fact it’s been a horror show, Aro of course sees this and he scolds Caius for treating you like a piece of furniture rather than a person.
Aro knows you’re just feeling Caius out, watching because there are moments— the very few moments— when he is oh so gentle.
You shiver, a blanket is flung at your face. “My luck you’d catch pneumonia.”
Your tummy rumbles, the chef brings a five star meal. “I don’t need you dying.”
You’re bored, suddenly you’re in front of the TV and given access to ALL the shows. “You’re being a pest.”
Aro also knows your temper is starting to appear the more Caius pushes you away.
Caius isn’t sure what to even do with you— he is FEELING things, things he’s never even felt with Dora. And Dora is berating him alongside Marcus for being an utter nitwit.
“Cai for all your brilliance for strategy you’re an idiot in romance.” Dora says.
He knows it’s true. He’s an asshole.
And angry.
All the time. But when you’re around he’s not angry anymore.
But at one point you’re still fidgeting with your hands. “What is the problem now.”
“Ah…well…” you fidget some more, “c-can I have some water colors?”
Caius freezes. “You paint?” He seems curious.
You nod. “I do digital art but I like canvas art too!” You show him your phone of photoshop collages, watercolor, digital paintings and such.
“You do this on a computer?” He tilts his head. He hates technology. So seeing that one can create art this way is astounding to him.
“Yeah I had to sell my iPad a while ago so sadly I can’t do much right now but if I have some water colors that would be a good start!” You bounce on your feet.
You have the a massive iMac, a Wacom Cintiq 24”, an entire selection of Derwent colors and crazy amounts of canvases and anything else you might need that an artist can think of.
Caius is utterly stunned when you tackle him and kiss his cheek thanking him.
His heart explodes into confetti.
Art is how Caius communicates his gentler side. His art is beautiful, evoking deep emotions, and his hand is gentle and fluid enough in motion to capture even the most minute details.
You both grow exceptionally close, till Marcus one day pulls him aside to inform him of the Mate Bond that is between you two.
The Kiss:
You’re modeling for Caius, it’s a random request and you feel utterly embarrassed dressed in flowing robes and sprawled on a chaise lounge half hanging off, your hair spilling onto the marble floor.
You can’t quite help but notice how his gaze is pitch black and devouring you.
“M-Master Caius?”
“Caius.” He grumbles.
“Huh?”
“I think it’s about time you can call me Caius y/n.”
He can hear your heart thump an erratic beat as magic swirls in your eyes. It’s slowly been coming back to you, being cared for, like a plant long neglected, your magic has begun to grow under the tender albeit aloof care of the vampire King you’re so utterly in love with.
But you know it’s silly, there’s no way it’d work—
He’s suddenly next to you, hovering nose to nose, pulling you towards him, “you consume me.”
It’s the last thing he says for a long while as you both end up staying on that lounge for a— ahem lengthy amount of time.
Punishments:
Caius is a sadist.
But he’s a loving sadist.
He has so many kinks he doesn’t know what to do with them. And luckily for him— surprise surprise you’re kinky too.
But you tend to be mouthy. And Caius does not like when he is disobeyed. “Be a good pet and go sit.”
“But—“
“1.”
When Aro counts it’s for orgasms.
When Caius counts it’s for paddling or the crop.
Or it’s for forced orgasms and overstimulation.
The dynamic between you is quite lovely, boundaries are discussed whenever needed, although Caius can come across as gruff and uncaring, at one point during punishment play you had said your safe word rather quickly, and everything stopped. Oils, bath, rub down, talks, blankets, snuggles, and so many kisses to the forehead. “Bunny, oh my little bunny what happened?”
As someone who does not cry.
Ever.
Aro has attested to this.
It astounds Caius that you’d trust him enough to do so.
He realizes that he’s earned a trust that has not been earned by anyone in a long long time, knowing that feeling, he would never break it by overdoing things or going past your boundaries.
Punishments are talked out. Explained. Rules are fairly discussed and you ALWAYS have a say in vetoing or staying off for another day.
If it’s a topic that has yet to be discussed it is tabled, and discussed for what an appropriate response should be.
Punishments include:
Caning
Paddle
Crop (your favorite)
Being suspended and teased.
Leashed. Yes he will have you walk behind him with a leash and collar. And yes he will sit in the Library with you on a leash and your head in his lap. “Good Bunny.”
You are a very good bunny.
Caius has only had only lost his temper with you once. And never will again.
It was due to negligence on your part, you had disobeyed him when it was imperative for you to listen, not aware of the danger of a local coven’s very out of control member. “But Cai why—“
They had heard your blood sing to them.
Caius had torn the individual to pieces in a fit of utter rage before turning on you with a shout, “I told you NEVER to disobey me.” he roared at you, the energy coming off him practically feral as his eyes were murderous.
Seeing you shrink back; the fear in your gaze at him almost broke his heart when the dread kicked in as to what he had done. He had frightened you.
He was supposed to be your comfort and safety.
of course you wouldn't understand vampire's ways of doing things.
or what a singer was...you were a witch...
But before he could even think to reach for you...
You had fled.
Hidden away in Dora’s rooms you tucked yourself away in her bathroom in the tub with a blanket curled up and wept.
Dora and Sulpricia beat the shit out of Caius.
He had sat outside the door pleading with you for hours.
He knew he had utterly fucked up.
He had a horrid temper, he knew it, and the idea of you being drained dry right in front of him had been far too much for him to think of. “Y/n please talk to me. I'm so sorry please forgive me.”
You had unlocked the door with magic…. And he had merely crawled into the tub with you, curled around you underneath the blanket and held you while you cried into him and smacked at his chest. “Don’t do that ever again!!!”
“I know, I know bunny I know. Never again. I'm a bastard I know.”
You calmed down and glared at him.
“Would you like to delve out a punishment?”
You blinked, confused and then realized what he was offering.
“Yes.”
And that is how you ended up quite happy with your vampire begrudgingly, and amused sitting at your feet in your shared rooms with GOOD BOY on a thick leather collar.
Turns out Caius likes being punished too.
“Also a masochist hm?” You laugh at him and grip him by his hair.
“So it seems.” He muses kissing your knee and nudging your legs apart. “But the reward is worth it isn’t it bunny?”
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itsnothesameasitwas · 3 years
Note
hiii! im looking for good freinds to lovers fics bc i go through them sooooo fast :/ if you have any good ones pls send them !!!
hii… sorry this took me a whole day but here some Friends to Lovers fics… all the fics I’m recommending are Larry and please be careful with the tags before start reading and leave kudos :)
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ABO
♥ Promise Me You Won't Run Away by thinlines @thinlinez | 23k | E
“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.
“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”
“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.
“Come distract me, then.”
Or the Prince/ Knight AU in which Harry left Louis, but the omega never once gave up on them.
♥ i don't wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby | 19k | E
Harry has been in love with Louis Tomlinson for four years, five months, and thirteen days.
Harry had fallen in love with Louis Tomlinson like how he’d seen in movies, and how he’d read in all the books he’d stolen from Gemma, headfirst and shameless. The only problem was, that in films and books, love was always either returned instantly, or else it took time for unrequited love to lose the first two letters, and since the first option was obviously not true, Harry decided he would wait for the second to become reality. And so Harry waited, three years, eight months, and four days, before his heart had been broken by a gentle rejection and a misplaced blowjob, before Louis and Gemma had packed up and gone to Manchester for university.
(Harry is a hopelessly romantic omega and Louis is his sister's best friend)
♥ picking up the pieces by falsegoodnight @falsegoodnight | 35k | E
“Zayn,” he murmurs, quietly but desperately.
Knowing what to do immediately, Zayn discreetly glances behind them to scan the room. “Walking over,” he says, confirming Louis’ worst fears.
“Maybe he’ll just pass by without stopping,” Louis says, glancing at the tables next to them as if hoping to find some other group of friends Harry had in high school that he could possibly want to talk to.
Eyebrow arched and lips pursed, Zayn has the nerve to look amused. “He’s looking directly at us.”
“Cause a diversion,” Louis rushes through his teeth, panic clawing up his throat. He can’t look Harry in the face again. Not yet, maybe not ever.
Zayn rolls his eyes and grabs his hand, interlocking their fingers. “It’s now or never, dear.”
- Louis returns to his hometown for the first time in ten years for his high school reunion and is faced with memories he’s long since tried to forget.
MPREG
♥ waiting on you by beckywritesthings @beckydoesthings | 21k | M
“Do you want to touch?” Harry asks, taking one of his hands off to tangle with Louis’. His open invitation finally drags Louis’ attention away from his baby and up to his face, blue eyes wobbly with emotions. It’s clear that he’s too taken to really form words, so Harry takes the initiative to press their laced hands against his shirt fabric, warmth from the skin radiating through.
Louis pushes his shirt up to his chest, taking Harry’s hand and pressing it to hold the fabric in place. His hands return to warm skin, palms even more scalding now that there’s nothing in between them. And then, as if that wasn’t enough for Harry’s heart to handle, Louis leans in, pressing his lips right above his belly button.
“Hi, baby,” he says, lips moving across his skin softly. “I’m your… I’m Louis.”
Or Harry is pregnant with a stranger’s baby and Louis doesn’t know. It’s a minor detail that Harry’s both living with Louis and in love with him. No big deal.
♥ you fit me better than my favourite sweater by brightbluelou | 13k | NR
Harry didn't mean to fall in love with his best friend, and he definitely didn't mean to get pregnant. Despite that, it’s probably still the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And after that, well. It just kept getting better.
or; the one where Harry and Louis are friends-with-benefits and Harry unexpectedly gets pregnant. Harry never wants to stop getting pregnant after that, but Louis thinks seven kids is probably enough.
AUS
♥ our matchmaker: the fucking universe by peachloulou | 8k | E |
On your eighteenth birthday, you end up with your soulmates' name tattooed on your body. The universe works in a fairly simple way, so Louis knows Harry is his soulmate. He's got Harry's name tattooed on his ass cheek like a tramp stamp, and Harry's got the name Lou written on the inside of his wrist. Except Harry doesn't know what Louis' soulmates name is because Louis is a romantic fool, and, ever since Harry woke up with the name Lou two years after Louis, he's been a quest to find his own soulmate. Meeting after meeting.
But maybe Louis' wrong, and he and Harry are nothing more than best friends.
Or the one where the universe is annoyingly fucking complicated.
♥ Love Isn't Always on Time by softfonds @softfonds | 45k | E
Falling in love with your best friend sounds like a good idea, until he comes back from a work trip engaged to another man. A Made of Honor AU.
♥ You Might Want to Marry My Husband by Rearviewdreamer | 37k | M
When Harry’s husband dies, he asks one thing of him; to find love and happiness again without him. It’s a request that Harry is happy to disregard, until he meets the one person who is impossible to ignore.
♥ Work of Magic by Bekita @justalarryblog | 34k | NR
"C’mon Liam, are you really going to use this against me now? You know the kind of humans his kind is! You know very well why we hunt them!" Louis said, done with the conversation and walking down the hall.
"No! We hunt people who don’t care about others, and neither Harry nor anyone in his family is like that!” Liam exasperated, following behind. “Louis, it's been two weeks, don’t you wanna know how Harry is? Has this hatred taken over so fast?" Liam inquired, knowing the hit a nerve.
"You know what, Liam? I'm not going to have this conversation with you." Louis said decisively, turning his back to his friend ready to go to his class.
But life is never fair, is it? When he turned around he was face to face with Harry in the middle of the hallway. The two stared at each other. Do I hate him? Louis wondered as he watched Harry's eyes fill with tears and seem to be begging for something. He preferred to ignore the pang in his chest and the urge to comfort the boy in front of him. He lowered his head and continued on his way.
Or the one that Louis is a WitchHunter and Harry is a Witch and they keep it as a secret, but they fall in love.
♥ practice in pencil, seal it in pen by loubellies @loubellies | 16k | E
AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending pleaseor Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.
♥ plant new seeds by glitterhaz @cloudslou | 44k | TUA
Harry nods, not trusting his words. Slowly, he crawls under the covers of his bed, all too aware that Louis is doing the same, so close to him. Initially, he faces his desk, not looking at Louis, but after a few minutes he gets uncomfortable and turns over. Now, he’s only a foot from Louis’ face, and Louis has turned around too.
He doesn’t think Louis is asleep already, and it's confirmed when Louis’ eyes blink open sleepily. Harry looks at Louis, and Louis looks at him. Really looks.
“Can you see me?” Louis whispers.
Harry doesn’t understand the question, not really, but nods anyway. “Yeah, I see you,”
**Louis works at a lonely community garden, Harry is the upstanding fraternity man who makes it all feels a little less lonely. Over the course of a semester, that is.
♥ Skin New, Hands True, My Hands All Over You by PearlyDewdrops | 44k | E
Harry designs wedding cakes, so of course meeting blissfully happy couples every day is part of his job description. Unfortunately, it's caused Harry to perpetually hope each new day is the one he'll find love, too. That is, until Harry realises everything he's ever wanted is right under his nose in the shape of his best friend, Louis.
But predictably, Harry only comes to this epiphany when Louis starts seeing someone else. And this is not a John Hughes movie as far as Harry is aware. Everyone else is pretty sure, though.
Featuring a heavy dose of pining, copious amounts of alcohol, drunk dialing that results in a situation reminiscent of Rachel Green's, a ginger cat that likes to interrupt intimate moments, and a Halloween party that changes everything.
♥ if it kills me by you_explode | 110k | M
Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for six years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning.
The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.
♥ In This Light by exhilarated | 99k | E
Harry is a wardrobe stylist who likes to live in the moment, and Louis is a popstar who looks dreamy in double breasted jackets. Harry never stood a chance.
♥ smell the sea, feel the sky by lightswoodmagic @lightwoodsmagic | 16k | E
They’d been planning this beach trip for months, stressing around work schedules and engagement parties, trying to find the perfect place to stay in and a time where there wouldn’t be families everywhere but the weather still perfect. Louis had spent what felt like hours researching and planning, dinners with Zayn and his boyfriend at their house that just ended in looking at places and sending them to Niall. He’d been looking forward to it for weeks, getting away from his job and his bullshit neighbours and the noise of the city.
It seemed ridiculous, really, that in all that time, Zayn hadn’t mentioned once that Harry was coming.
Or, Louis doesn't know how he's going to spend a week with the one person he wants and can't have. Harry proves him wrong.
♥ This Shifting Ground by zarah5 | 28k | M
University AU. In which Louis, law student, is the cheeky waiter to Harry’s dates. This is how it starts.
♥ No One Like You by myownspark | 19k | M
Dear Niall,I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.
Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.
Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.
Are you up for a trip to France?
Sincerely, Liam Payne
Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.
♥ across city skyline (and straight through my heart) by Halos_Boat @halohamilton | 76k | M
Louis Tomlinson meets Hollywood Heartthrob, Harry Styles when he walks into Louis' little bakery one day.
Immediately, Louis is charmed by him and Louis thinks Harry might feel the same way, given the fact that Harry has visited the bakery everyday since he'd come to town.
Until one day, Harry walks in with a boyfriend under his arm and a smile on his face.
The one where Louis owns a small bakery that's well known in his town and Harry Styles is an actor who comes to town to film a new movie. Louis is endeared by him, but that doesn’t seem to matter since Harry Styles is already taken.
♥ Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | M
As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.
♥ Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds | 88k | NR
“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.
Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”
- 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.
♥ Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 42k | E
"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.
"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.
"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"
♥ California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | M
Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.
A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.
—————
if you feel like you need more, don’t hesitate to ask me :)
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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years
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How To Stop Time: Touch
Request: Please could you do a soulmate au where time stops when solemates touch for the first time with draco 💞
A/N: Another soulmate AU and for Draco? It’s like you’re treating me, I swear. You must know how much of a sucker I am for this man. Thank you so much for requesting this, nonnie! I hope I’ve done it justice! <3
Warnings: swearing - it’s a load of fluff and me waxing lyrical about the history of soulmates... again.
Word count: 2.1k
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The magic surrounding the tale of soulmates is so powerful that it is said time stops when soulmates finally touch.
The eldest witches and wizards in the magical community believe that in response to the muggle witch hunts across history, and particularly, the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the soulmate bond was created as a way for witches and wizards to identify their other half without the risk of increased danger.
To tiny witches and wizards, they grow up on this tale. They relish in the belief that their love for their soulmate is so powerful that time will stop once they touch; spurred on by the tales of their parents and grandparents before them who had found their soulmate in the other. Across the world, tiny witches and wizards curl up in their bed, dreaming of how time will stop the moment they find their soulmate.
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As you progressed in your education at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, countless numbers of your friends found their soulmates. Each of them bounding up to you giddily as they each explained how time stopped the moment they touched their soulmate, and how it felt like time would always stop whenever they looked at them.
As you entered your seventh year and you still hadn’t found your soulmate, you began to question whether you had one. For a small percentage of the wizarding population, they did not have a soulmate, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing – those without a soulmate felt the freedom of being able to choose who they loved and who they dedicated their life to. However, as a teenager watching their friends fall in love around them, you were desperate to know if you had one.
Sure, you had crushes. The longest one being on the blonde-haired Malfoy heir, and the part of you that dreams at night, wonders whether it could be him for it seemed that he hadn’t found the person that made time stop for him either.
-------
To say you were frustrated would be an understatement.
NEWT exams were rapidly approaching yet you felt no more confident with your potions ability than you did at the beginning of the year. You had barely scraped by to get into Slughorn’s Advanced Potions class but scrape by you did and now you find yourself questioning why you had ever taken the class.
Not to mention the fact that your soulmate was still to make an appearance. Your closest friend, Sam had found his soulmate in a Ravenclaw boy named James – they were lovely together, but the anxiety of not having found your soulmate as well as the upcoming exams diminished your happiness for them.
They comforted you; promising that you would find your soulmate soon and that you would pass your exams without fail. And though they tried their hardest, you found it hard to believe them.
Instead, you take matters into your own hands, pushing all thoughts of soulmates and your lack of one to the back of your mind as you approach Professor Slughorn after class in which a practical had gone drastically wrong. He agreed to help; promising he would call on you when he found it.
You left the classroom feeling somewhat at ease with his words. You may not have found your soulmate, but you’ll be damned if you don’t pass your exams.
Professor Slughorn calls on you on a Thursday evening; sending a note with a first year to your common room asking you to join him in his classroom. You head straight there, pulling on a jumper as you leave the common room.
“Miss (Y/L/N), thank you for joining us.” Professor Slughorn greets as you enter the classroom, taking in the sight of him and Draco Malfoy.
“Of course, Professor.” You say, sitting in the empty seat next to Draco.
Slughorn smiles at the two of you, “You approached me at the end of our last lesson, Miss (Y/L/N), asking for extra help with Potions, is that right?”
“I did, sir.”
“I spoke to Draco after we had our conversation, and he’s more than happy to tutor you, isn’t that right?”
Draco crosses a leg over the other, “It is. I’m more than happy to help.”
Slughorn claps his hands together, pleased at the fact that he’s sorted this between you both. “I’ll leave my classroom free for you both on Saturday, that way you won’t be disturbed.”
You stand from your seat, smiling at the professor and Draco. “Thank you.” You look at Draco, “I guess I’ll see you Saturday.”
Butterflies erupt in your stomach as you leave Slughorn’s classroom.
-----------
Saturday arrives, and you hold back a yawn as you push open the door to Slughorn’s classroom. The chill of the morning and your residual tiredness has you pulling the sleeves of your cardigan down to cover your hands; hoarding any warmth possible.
“I know it’s early, but I went to the kitchens and the Elves were more than happy to wrap us up some warm pastries and give a flask of tea.” Draco greets.
He holds out a small cup of tea, steam still rising. You take it from him, letting the warmth fill your hands and then flow through your body as you take that first sip.
“Thank you, Draco.” You say, taking a bite of the breakfast pastry, moaning softly at the taste of butter and jam.
Draco smiles as he takes a bite of his own. “I thought we’d follow Slughorn’s curriculum, so we aren’t missing anything out. That means we start with Amortentia, is that okay?”
You nod, continuing to eat your breakfast.
Draco smirks, “Besides, it means I get to find out if you have a crush on anyone.”
You snort, “It goes both ways, I believe, Draco. I get to see if you have a crush too.”
Draco laughs, blushing lightly. He potters around the classroom, gathering the ingredients as you sip your tea. Watching him, you realise how attractive Draco truly is. Once you got past the hard exterior; removed the mask he so often wore, he was soft and gentle.
You had always harboured a small crush on the teenager titled the Slytherin Prince. You briefly wonder whether the love potion would smell like him.
Draco places jars and vials of ingredients on the table before collecting his cauldron from where he had placed it on the floor. He plants it on the stand before murmuring the warming charm so the bottom can heat up as he prepares the ingredients in the order that he needs them.
Draco instructs you through the potion; pausing every now and then for you to take down any notes. As you dip your quill in the ink pot for the fourth time, you think that Draco would make the perfect professor – he has a knack with words making explanations easier and relating them in a manner that are easily understood. Not to mention his passion for the subject comes across so clearly as he gestures with his hands and smiles all through his explanations.
He pauses part way through a sentence, “Let me know if I’m rambling too much, won’t you?”
“Of course, but I enjoy listening to you speak – you clearly love this subject, Draco.”
He looks away sheepishly, reading over the instructions he’s already memorised. “I’d like to be a Potions Professor once we leave here.”
“You’d be brilliant at it,” You reply immediately, “You have a talent for this, I already feel more confident in my potions ability.”
His blush from earlier returns as he murmurs, “Thank you. What are your plans for after?”
“I think I’d like to do something in the ministry; in the archives I think.”
Draco nods, understanding, “I’ve seen you in History of Magic. You’d suit the archives, with all the old documents.”
You laugh, “I just think the history of our society is so interesting.”
“You’d be a good professor, (Y/N).” Draco whispers.
“Let’s hope Professor Binns finally retires then,” You start, “That way we can work together.” You internally groan at your shoddy attempt at flirting, but Draco doesn’t seem to notice. He chuckles, “We’d make a good team.”
You stare down at your notes, fiddling with your quill, so Draco doesn’t see the giddy expression on your face.
Draco looks back to his instructions, glancing over the final few steps. He stirs the mixture clockwise for three more minutes before steam begins to rise from the cauldron.
He sits back into his seat, “There we go. All done.”
For a single minute, you watch the steam rise from the potion. Draco brewed it so effortlessly that you wonder where you had gone wrong the first time you attempted it. But with his instructions and his tutelage, you know that you would be able to brew it again successfully.
Temptation rises within you; the urge to lean over Draco’s cauldron and take a whiff of the potion becomes too much. Draco sees you shift in your chair, “Go on then,” he prompts, “What does it smell like?”
The fumes from the potion make your head spin slightly. They smell of something you’ve smelled before; of something you’ve been in close contact with recently.
Burnt sugar and rain give way to the delicate smell of roses.
And it hits you all of a sudden – you’re smelling the teenager sat next to you. Your heart races as you come to the realisation that the crush you had been harbouring for the blonde-haired teenager had evolved into something more.
The desperate thought runs through your head. The pleading thought of: please let him be my soulmate.
If you were already feeling this strongly about Draco, it would be hell on earth to find out that his soulmate was actually another.
“What did you smell then?” Draco asks as you sit back down in your chair.
You avoid his eyes as you say, “I’ll tell you once you have a smell.”
Draco frowns but he nods, nonetheless.
Draco bends over the cauldron, having noticed your reaction to the smell. He inhales deeply; the heady scent taking root within him.
Jasmine, citrus and orchids.
The smell of your perfume mixed with the floral smell of shampoo. It had settled around him.
He had a hunch it would smell like you. He’s had feelings for you since Fourth Year; smelling you perfume, and shampoo only confirmed what he already knew deep down – that he was in love with you.
Draco takes a step back from the table; the revelation hitting him all at one – so strongly it knocks the breath from him.
“I’ve had a thought.”
“I think I’m having the same one.” You say, standing up.
Draco’s eyes blaze as he states, “I think you’re my soulmate.”
You nod, “I think you’re my soulmate too.”
Draco holds his hand out to you; less than a centimetre away from you, but he doesn’t take the final step. Despite it all; despite the certainty, he cannot ignore the spike of fear running through his body. He never expected he would find his soulmate; he never expected that it would be you of all people. Draco had been crushing on you since Fourth Year; since you had sat next to him at dinner and asked his thoughts on the Triwizard Tournament – he was taken aback by your presence that he answered honestly, and the conversation that followed had been one of the most honest he had ever had.
You watch the myriad of emotions that flit over his face; trying to define each and every one of them. The certainty that you feel with the idea of Draco being your soulmate settles deep within your bones; combining with your genetic makeup. It all makes sense now; your feelings for Draco finally made sense.
You take the final step; taking his hand in yours, tangling your fingers together. His skin is smooth and soft against yours. His hand fits perfectly in yours, as if made for you.
And then time stops.
Time stops.
The steam from the Amortentia potion freezes; the ticking of the clock no longer sounds; the sound of younger students running up and down the corridor outside the classroom fall silent.
The only thing moving in this moment is you and Draco.
He draws you into his arms. One arm wrapping around your waist; the other caressing your cheek. His thumb rubs over your cheekbone as he smiles softly down at you. For a moment, neither of you speak for the small fear of breaking the instant in which you find yourselves. This time is so precious; it’s where everything is defined. You beam up at him, savouring the feel of his arm around your waist though you know that you have a lifetime to memorise the way he touches you.
“I never thought I would find you.” Draco whispers, in awe of the situation.
“You have. So what do you plan to do?”
“This.”
It’s all he says as he dips his head and kisses you.
*******************
General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @dreamer821 @the-hufflefluffwriter @summer-writes @harrypotter289 @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @kalimagik​ @figlia--della--luna​
Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obx-beach @obxmxybxnk​ @sycathorn-slush​
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dramioneasks · 3 years
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HP FESTS: DramioneFanfictionWriters (Part 4)
DFW's Deal or No Deal: Famous Shakespeare Lines, February 2021:
Short Life For A Daffodil by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - Hermione and Draco have a wild daughter who likes to pull up daffodils and frustrate her parents, but the duo wouldn't be without their children.
Friends Dont by Lostinthenightrain - T, one-shot - "You don’t choose who you fall for!” “No, because I sure as hell wouldn’t be standing here now would I?” Hermione mourns the loss of a relationship.
The Malfoy Mistress by ThebeMoon - M, one-shot - Unable to bear the sight of Bellatrix carving into Hermione Granger at Malfoy Manor, Draco Malfoy whisks his hated former schoolmate to safety. He should have known better.
Rules of Engagement by Art3misiA - T, one-shot - Lucius just had to be difficult about the idea of Draco and Hermione getting married. Will Draco and Hermione allow him to throw his weight around, or will they bring him to heel?
DFW's Deal or No Deal: Popular 90's TV Shows, March 2021:
The Death of Theo Nott by Lostinthenightrain - T, one-shot - “Hermione.” Her head whipped up to see the broken expression in Draco’s eyes. “He wouldn’t kill himself.”
The Night of the Rats by rennaissance_woman - not rated, one-shot - What happens when a prank war goes too far?
Perfect Harmony by Talonwillow (TalonWillow) - T, one-shot -Professor Slughorn's star Potions pupil Hermione was tired of being the ugly duckling, so she created a potion that would transform her into a beautiful swan. Everyone seemed to like the shiny new version of her... Well, except for herself and maybe one other. Would Draco Malfoy convince her that what everyone else was seeing was what he saw every day, and would Hermione finally be able to live in Perfect Harmony?
Dramione Go Star Trekking by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - Riker has made a pass at Hermione and she doesn't quite know how to deal with it.
Bloody Colonials by Maira - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger has had a long week, and the last thing she wants to do is leave the comfort of her home. But when her best friend asks for her help in dealing with a possible cursed object, what can she do but help? Brownies, Potion-making robe etiquette, and a cursed Nigerian mask all add up to a typical night at Hogwarts. Written for the DFW's Deal or No Deal challenge.
The Latest Teenage Drama by Art3misiA - T, one-shot - Teenagers. Gotta love em. Teenage dramas? Not so much. Draco and Hermione navigate the perils of unwanted teenage behaviour - 90s family sitcom style.
DFW's Deal or No Deal: Around the World, April 2021:
The Assignment by Art3misiA - G, one-shot - Hermione and Draco, Aurors, have been sent to Cape Town on a top secret assignment - to track down a former Death Eater.
Finding Them by KrysKrossZee - T, WIP - After not finding her parents in Austrailia, Hermione enlists Draco's help and the two make their way to Vancouver when they have a new lead.
DFW's Deal or No Deal: The Language of Flowers, May 2021:
Spilled Ink by Maira - M, one-shot - It's nearly Christmas, and things aren't great. Draco Malfoy is still on house arrest due to the Wizengamot being a bag of dicks. Hermione Granger is out of the country on a job, which means he won't see her for a few weeks. And to top it all off, Hermione has sent Draco a plant. A green, spiky plant, for no reason that he can fathom. Oh, and a spelled journal that he's now supposed to write in. Because nothing could possibly go wrong with that plan. Written for the DFW Deal or No Deal Challenge!
Forever by Art3misiA - M, one-shot - Though they may be gone, our memories of them remain forever.
The Little Things by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - When Hermione buys Draco a cup of coffee and leaves it on his desk, it throws Draco through a loop and he wonders what he should get her in exchange.
The Climbing Vine by rennaissance_woman - not rated, one-shot - After receiving some startling news, Draco runs out of the house. He receives some advice from a surprising source.
Changing of the Seasons by Lostinthenightrain - M, one-shot - Hermione & Draco find a local park and two unlikely faces to greet them.
DFW's Deal or No Deal: Draco's Birthday Soundtrack, June 2021:
Straight to the Heart by AdAsttra - T, one-shot - Draco's ready to tell Hermione how he feels, but Cupid has other ideas.
Stick Around by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - Hermione doesn't know why Draco is the only one who makes her feel safe, but she is glad that she is able to get some reprieve from her brain.
Wild and Wired by Maira - M, one-shot - Need your lovin' here beside me, Need it close enough to guide me, I've been hopin' you would find me, You're the biggest part of me. - Hermione was expecting a fun night out with her boyfriend and her friends. She was not expecting ice cubes, sick ponies, and a serenade beautiful enough to melt her heart. Written for the DFW's Deal or No Deal challenge.
Let's Get Serious (Please, for the Love of Merlin!) by Art3misiA - G, one-shot - Draco wants to get serious, but Hermione isn't so sure. Will their opposing views make or break them?
DFW's Deal or No Deal: Magical Monsters, July 2021:
There's A Zouwu In My Basement by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - When a creature has broken into the Malfoy Manor dungeon, Draco has to call for help.
Miseria by crochetaway - T, one-shot - Hermione tames a Dementor.
Aegis by Maira - M, one-shot - Their world is in ruins, and their only protection against creatures wanting to kill them is about to fall. They make a plan to trek across the country to Hogwarts, where others have gathered to make a new home within the castle. There, they will be safe. One problem - before they go, there's a queen to kill. Written for the DFW's Deal or No Deal Challenge.
Fear & Desire by myladymay - T, one-shot - Draco Malfoy wants to change his life. He returns to Hogwarts for Eighth Year and finds himself confronted with both his biggest fear and greatest desire, all wrapped up in a Gryffindor tie.
Innocent Monsters by itscometothis - T, 12 chapters - Draco Malfoy thought he had reasonable expectations for his mandatory Eighth Year at Hogwarts, where he would be confined to the grounds as part of his probation. Isolation, hatred, and passing his NEWTs were really all he had in mind. What he wasn't anticipating: 1) Having a small firstie latch onto him like a bloody koala 2) Said firstie adopting an erkling as if they didn’t feed on children. To protect his little nuisance, he’ll have to seek help from uncomfortable places, including the Swottiest Witch of Her Age. Joy of all joys.
Transformed by Art3misiA - T, one-shot - Draco and Charlie have a dragon to catch, and time is running out. Meanwhile, Hermione is missing, adding to Draco's woes.
DFW's Deal or No Deal: Legendary Duos, August 2021:
Three's a crowd, four's trouble by AnnaRitaLi - M, WIP - p>My sister is right. My life did change that evening. I just don't think Rosalind meant for me to steal her boyfriend, or I don't think I stole him, Draco, not precisely. You cannot steal something that doesn't want to be whisked away. That's my experience, at least, and I've stolen quite a few things over the years. So I can say this with confidence. You can't lose something you never had. But you’ll have to read it in the book, dear. While the Crown doesn’t wish for me to speak out in public, I have been silent for too long. You see, There were three of us in this marriage. And people, the press, have assumed many things over the years about Draco and me. So this book, as you’ll see, it’s my attempt to set the record straight. Yes, there were three of us in this marriage, but there were also much more going on than that. -- This is the story the Crown never wanted to get out. In other words, I bring you the x-rated version of the book ‘Diana - her true story - in her own words’.’ It’s the Dramione as Charles & Diana AU you didn't know you needed.
The Marquess and the Kitchen Girl by Art3misiA - E, 8 chapters - Draco Malfoy is the son of the most powerful Duke in Wiltshire. One day, he will be the ruler of a large duchy. Hermione Granger lives happily with her parents - that is, until tragedy strikes. Two children will become friends, and gradually discover a forbidden love that seems as if it might one day defy the odds. Alas, this is a tale of doomed lovers.
In Her Arms by KrysKrossZee - M, one-shot - Draco's worked his way up through Voldemort's ranks but it would seem that all of his work has been for nothing when Dolohov captures a new prisoner.
The Happiness I Seek by Maira - M, one-shot - To those without a soulmate, the world is devoid of colour. They say that if you are lucky enough to meet your soulmate, everything changes. The world is brighter, food is richer, and you find a love you never knew you needed. Draco Malfoy has never been lucky. Written for the DFW's Deal or No Deal challenge.
darling! by itscometothis - M, one-shot - When Draco and Hermione are invited to help demonstrate a path forward for Wizarding Britain and its reconciliation, neither really feel like they can refuse - Hermione for moral reasons and Draco for practical ones (read: Azkaban sounds bad). But they have very different ideas on how to play up this fake relationship. Written for DFW's Deal or No Deal: Legendary Duos - Kermit and Ms. Piggy. It's as ridiculous as you expect.
A Thousand Ships by floorcoaster - M, WIP - Draco Malfoy knows what he wants, and he's not afraid to reach out and take it.
Quiet My Demons by Lostinthenightrain - M, one-shot - “Unhappy, darling?” He murmured, his cigar placed on its resting dish, dashed out - a little puff of smoke rising into the air between them before disappearing. “Yes, completely.”
I Love Draco by crochetaway - G, one-shot - A few slice of life scenes with Hermione, Draco, and Scorpius ala I Love Lucy style!
DFW's Deal or No Deal: The Final Word, September 2021:
Crime & Punishment by itscometothis - T, 12 chapters - TRIAL TRANSCRIPT OF DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY IS FORMALLY CHARGED WITH THE FOLLOWING: CONSPIRACY TO COMMIT MURDER AIDING AND ABETTING A MURDER USE OF UNFORGIVABLE CURSES: IMPERIUS (2 COUNTS) USE OF UNFORGIVABLE CURSES: CRUCIATUS (47 COUNTS) PARTICIPATING IN A TERRORIST ORGANIZATION -- I don’t regret hoping. I thought I might, at the beginning, do you remember? But I don’t. I regret nothing about you, my love. Eternally yours, Draco -- A story of hope, punishment, and the nature of justice told in trial transcripts, visits in an interrogation room, and letters.
Boats Against the Current by AlannaTCooper - T, one-shot - Draco Malfoy is trying to escape his past by running as far away as he can. But the past - and his nightmares - keep pulling him backwards.
By His Side by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - Hermione is lonely but there's at least one person who can break through her loneliness.
Trying To Live by IzzieStellar - T, one-shot - After her husband dies, Hermione can’t seem to remember how to live and her friends vow to help her.
In the Dead of Night by AdAsttra - G, one-shot - Hermione and Draco are some of the last people to leave Hogwarts under the veil of a cold, dark night.
This fest is ongoing.
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