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roanniom · 3 years

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My request is probably so lame lol. But will you please tell us about Valentines Day with Flip? How does he spoil you and make it extra special for you? I’d love it if you could throw in some praise kink and size kink too please!

I love all your writing and you’re so talented! Thank you for entertaining my request! 💛

Hi my lovelies, thanks for your patience with this, seeing as it is coming over a week after Valentine’s Day. I wasn’t 100% I had another Valentine’s story in me after my Clyde and Charlie ones, but I chose to combine these prompts, got a little inspiration today and voila - a sweet and salty Flip one shot was born. Hope you’re cool with me combining and taking a bit from each of these requests! ❤️

Stupid Little Day in February

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Word Count: 3,890

Warnings: NSFW, PIV sex / semi-public sex / unprotected sex, angst in the form of Flip wanting to love up his lady but having work get in the way

Flip had never intended to find himself in this position. He was a perfectionist, giving everything he had and then some in an effort to be successful in all he did – high school sports, his career at the department, his relationships. It’s why he always tries to make time for the boys, being there for Ron whenever he needs help or just someone to bitch to over a beer after work. It’s why he does his best to shower you with love and affection every chance he gets, bringing home little gifts and spending lazy Sundays doing nothing but you. And he thought that, all things considered, he’d been doing a damn good job.

That is until he overheard you on the phone with your friend the other day. You were twirling the coiled cord around your finger while you lounged on the couch laughing and chatting animatedly. He’d walked by and into the kitchen, careful not to disturb you, but as he cracked open a beer he heard something that made his stomach drop.

“Yeah I know I love Valentine’s Day, but Flip hates it so I can be cool with that.”

Flip had left his beer on the counter and moved silently to the doorway, ears straining to hear the rest of the conversation, mind racing to all the times he had, indeed, condemned the holiday of love as a sappy excuse for bad boyfriends to redeem themselves. A day to stimulate the gift industry. You’d laughed and teased him for his soap box routine and grumpy demeanor but you hadn’t argued.

“Besides, I’ve told you. The man gets me flowers like three days a week. He remembers things, like really remembers things. And he listens. I’d trade fancy dinner, red hearts, and chocolate for him any day.”

And though you’d defended him to your friend, your words had stuck with Flip. He wanted to give you the moon, he would if it wasn’t so damn high up. The least he could do was indulge you in something you enjoyed. You did that for him constantly – sitting through football games, hanging with the boys at the bar, listening to country music though you told him that deep inside it made you want to murder the jukebox. You sucked it up and took it with a smile so you could be with him. Flip kicked himself for not being able to do the same with some stupid holiday.

But at the exact moment Flip vowed to right this wrong, the universe seemed to have made a competing vow to ruin all of his efforts. It seemed that the revelation had come to late, being that it was already the night before Valentine’s Day. He was horrified the next morning to find, after a series of tense calls made at his desk hunched over and hushed so none of the other detectives could here, every restaurant in town was booked full. Which ended up being a moot point because the chief demanded he stay late, regardless of how much he gnashed his teeth.

“Everyone with a serious gal already asked for the night off, Zimmerman. It’s too late now. Guess your gal isn’t that serious,” was the only reply he received.

Head in his hands at his desk, Flip flinched when his back received a firm clap.

“Now I know we’re in the contemplating-marriage-territory here with this girl,” Ron said, pulling a seat up and fixing Flip with a concerned look. “What’s all this about not taking time off?”

Flip repeated the conversation that he’d overheard, sure to explain that he had no intention of disappointing you despite your good nature.

“You do realize that this could easily be remedied by a simple call to your woman, right?” Ron asked as Flip massaged the space between his eyes.

“I wanted to surprise her. Calling at this point feels like admitting defeat.”

“Do you hear yourself? ‘Admitting defeat?’ This isn’t some damn battle, it’s a holiday for a fat little baby with wings.”

“Hey, he does have a weapon,” Flip countered, though this time he cracked a smile. Ron laughed heartily.

“Yeah, one that’s been used to shoot you and your little lady enough to kill a small elephant. You guys are pumped so full of the love juice it’s a wonder you’re able to concentrate on anything else.” Ron turned then and flicked the large stack of files on Flip’s desk with a smirk. “Or maybe that’s your problem, Zimmerman.”

Flip shook his head.

“That might be the case for me, but – ”

“Are you seriously about to argue that she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“How the fuck would you know?” Flip asked gruffly. Ron, used to Flip’s gruffness much as you were, plowed right on through.

“Well besides all the dinner parties and barbeques and nights we all go dancing?” Ron raised an eyebrow with a laugh. “Patrice, man! You think those women get together and don’t talk about us?”

“Patrice has told you things?” Flip’s whole body tensed and Ron was quick to reassure.

“Calm the fuck down, I don’t want any of your dirty details. All I know is your woman is crazy in love with you. I don’t think some stupid little day in February is going to rock your world as much as you think it will.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Flip conceded, putting his head in his hands.

“I’m always right, you just never listen,” Ron said good-naturedly as he headed back to his desk. Over his shoulder he tossed one final piece of wisdom. “Whatever you do, just call her!”

~*~

And Flip did try to call you. Ten times as a matter of fact. It wasn’t until the sun set out the window and he hung up the phone for the tenth time that he remembered you’d had plans to hang out with your mother today. While that probably should have made him feel better – you had filled your day with plenty of things and probably wouldn’t even notice his failed attempt at romance – he couldn’t help but agonize the fact that it proved you had expected so little of him in the first place.

It’s with this on his mind that Flip buries himself in his paperwork. It’s 8pm and every member of the Colorado Springs police force that hadn’t taken the holiday off is out for a dinner break, Flip having sullenly waved them off so he could sulk in peace. He’s neck-deep in casefiles when he hears the sound of footsteps coming in from the bullpen. It was much too soft to be the tread of any of the beat cops he’d expected to see tonight and Judy, the night shift receptionist, wasn’t due in till later.

“Burning the midnight oil there, detective?”

Flip’s head snaps up at your voice to find you leaning against the doorframe to his office, arms folded casually across your chest, cheeky smile gracing your lips.

“Baby, what are you doing here?” Flip asks breathlessly as he makes to stand up. He freezes mid-motion, however, when you hold a hand up.

“Ah ah ah, no need to get up,” you tsk, closing the door with a gentle click and dropping your bag to the floor before making your way over to him. He hesitates but lowers himself back into his seat, eyes trained on your frame slinking toward him. You drop your palms to his desk and hoist yourself up onto it, prowling forward across the surface on your hands and knees toward him. “I heard my man needed some cheering up.”

“You did?” Flip asks, a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth as he leans back in his seat to enjoy what has already been and promises to be quite a show. Legs spread wide and hands gripping the arm rests he hasn’t really even heard what you said. Instead he is focusing every single brain cell on the cleavage that is visible through the red peacoat he’s never seen you wear, chest now slightly exposed as you slowly slide off the scarf you’d used to obscure it.

“Yeah. I heard you wanted to love on me but couldn’t because of work,” you say in a low voice, scooting forward so that one leg dangles off the edge of the desk on the outside of Flip’s left thigh while you place your other foot on the edge of his chair to the right of his other thigh. His gaze flits to the expanse of inner thigh that is now visible to him, your legs bare beneath the peacoat despite the freezing mid-February chill outside. His hand shoots up to smooth over your thigh, warming your skin, just as his brain catches up to your words.

“Now where exactly did you hear that, sugar?” He asks with a small frown. One of your hands reaches out to his shoulder, pulling him in his wheeled office chair closer to you and the desk. The same hand slides down his shoulder to smooth back and forth over the plane of his chest, just as your other hand threads into his hair.

“I can’t go around divulging my secrets,” you say breathily, leaning forward and arresting his lips in a sensuous kiss. You are the first to deepen it, tongue flitting over his lips to beg for entrance before plunging into the depths of his mouth. You kiss him greedily like you’re seeking the breath from his lungs to be the source of your own oxygen. Like the pressure of his lips on yours will warm the late winter cold from your bones. When you slide off the desk and into his lap, straddling his thick denim-clad thighs, Flip moans into the kiss, making you break away with a pleased hum. You relish in the look of his kiss-bruised lips, red and wet from the fervor of your contact. “Maybe cupid dropped by with a little message. Told me to come on down here and drive you wild.”

Flip’s breathing deeply at this point but the new intake of air seems to get the gears moving better in his mind. He frowns.

“And by cupid you mean Ron.”

“Bingo, baby,” you confirm with a smile before pressing a kiss to his furrowed brow. “Don’t be mad at him, though. He told me how you tried to make tonight special for me and that you’d probably bite off the heads of everyone working the night shift if I didn’t make my way down here quick.”

“I set something up. I did what I could, things just kept going wrong…”

“Shhh….” Your kisses migrate from his forehead to his cheek, pressing into his dimples till his frown smooths out and his eyes close again. Only then do you move down to mouth at the column of his throat, pressing your lips to his Adam’s apple. “So how many are there?”

“How many what?” he asks distractedly, eyes still closed.

“Dead bodies of people who had the misfortune to cross paths with my grumpy mountain man?” you ask, the smile clear in your voice though you speak the words into his skin. Flips hands tighten around your hips.

“I’m only grumpy because you deserve the fuckin’ moon and I’m stuck here behind a desk.”

“Well, if you haven’t noticed,” you say, angling in his lap so that your lower back leans against the edge of the desk behind you. “I am also behind the desk with you. So maybe it’s not all bad.”

It is at this point that you pop the few buttons at the front of our coat, allowing it to drop open and reveal the gauzy, see-through red negligee you are wearing beneath. It comes down only to the tops of your thighs, but most important of all, you are completely bare beyond the fabric. Your breasts are held in the negligee’s sheer lace cups, nipples hard, and not a scrap of panties obstructs his view of your cunt, evidently glistening from this angle, even through the garment.

“Sugar.” He intones it soft, deep. It’s a statement. A warning as his eyes slide back up your body to lock on your own hungry stare. “You’re just looking for trouble here.”

With a devious smile you settle forward again, rolling your pelvis this time to rub your heat conspicuously over the growing bulge in his jeans.

“You can punish me later, Flip,” you whisper softly in his ear as you reach down to unbuckle his belt. “When you get home. But for now let me reward you.”

“What’s there to reward me for, darlin’?” Flip asks, helping you rid him of his belt and unfasten the buttons of his Levi’s. He’s not even sure why he’s pressing the matter. You’re here, rubbing your gorgeous body all of his in the middle of his workplace like some fucking fever dream and here he is, practically reminding you of his unworthiness. In some kind of verbal act of self-flagellation.

“Flip Zimmerman,” you chide, even as you pull his half-hard dick out of the opening you’ve made in his pants, careful to keep the rest of his clothing neat. “There’s always something to reward you for.” You begin applying a few measured strokes to his length, squeezing at the base and rolling your wrist to smooth the motion up to his tip.

“Fuck,” Flip grunts quietly, his head dropping to hit the back of the chair.

“This morning you sprinkled cinnamon on my oatmeal. Last night you handed me that lotion that smells like jasmine when I got out of the shower, the one I love so much.” You kiss his jaw as you say this and let your eye lashes flutter against his cheek in the process.

“Those are little things. Nothing,” Flip argues, still mentally kicking himself for the knee-jerk way he keeps dragging this on. Living in this guilt despite your loving ministrations which suggest you feel exactly the opposite.

“They aren’t little to me,” you say, your tone abruptly serious and your fingers digging into his jaw to keep him looking at you. “You read to me on Sunday afternoons. You take me camping whenever you get time off.”

Your tone returns to its original gentleness and you duck your head so that you can nip at Flip’s earlobe. Your hand continues its steady pace on his cock, thumb swirling around in the precum collecting on his tip.

“You fuck me. Good and hard and slow and fast and every which way I need it.” He’s painfully hard now, both from your hand and from your focused attention on him. From the words falling from your lips. He gazes back at you with blackened eyes and massages the skin of your hips and ass with his large, warm hands. You lick the shell of his ear then, marveling in the way it always turns red and hot, regardless of his confidence, regardless of his dominance. “You meet my needs, Flip, every day. And today is just any old day. So just like you do for me, I’m going to meet your needs, and you’re going to enjoy it.”

You say this as you lift yourself up with the muscles of your thighs and line him up with your entrance, sinking down on his cock just as you get to the last few words. Flip immediately mutters a string of hushed curses, fingers digging into your hips through your gauzy negligee so hard you’re already looking forward to the bruises. He breathes through his nose, his labored exhales fanning across your face as you work to adjust to him, eventually swiveling your hips a bit.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he mutters, dropping his forehead to yours. Your face is screwed up in pleasure-pain and you huff out a laugh.

“No, you’re just fucking huge.” Your statement gets a groan from him and you smirk as you begin to lift yourself up and down on Flip’s cock with his help. Your walls pulse, stroking his cock as your tongue moves on to stroking his ego. “You’re so big, Flip. Too big. I can barely take you.”

“You’re taking me just fine, sugar,” he shakes his head, eyes rolling back in their sockets as you grind into him on a down motion. “So wet. This little pussy takes me so well.”

“You fill me up, Flip. Stuff me – ohhh fuck – stuff me so full I think I might burst.” You reach one hand back to grip the edge of the desk for leverage while your other hand digs into the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh for me you do burst, baby. You burst and gush all over me like the good girl you are,” Flip whispers into your clavicle when you throw your head back, an automatic response to him beginning to aid you by thrust up into your quivering cunt himself. This sounds more like your Flip. Confident and powerful. Pressing all the right buttons to drive you wild. “My good girl.”

“I love it when you call me that,” you admit softly.

“A good girl?”

“Your good girl,” you correct.

“My good girl,” Flip repeats and your pussy clenches around him hard in response. So naturally Flip says it again. “You’re my good girl.”

Your breathing has increased rapidly, spurred on in no small part by the way one of his hands has snaked up to pluck a breast from its lacy confines. His head dips to suck your nipple into his mouth and you hum.

“Who’s good girl are you?” Flip asks into your breasts.

“I’m your good girl.”

You begin ridding him harder, faster. The slick seeping onto his cock around your swollen lips indicates that you’re farther along than he’d expect, a suspicion that you soon confirm with a whimper.

“Fuck, baby, I’m close.”

“Really?” he asks, incredulous. He’s used to marathon lovemaking. Even a quick fuck in a bathroom stall usually becomes indulgent for you two, trading speed for roughness and lewdness.

“I kind of…got ready before I – ah! – came here.” You bite your lip as you say it and Flip resists the urge to pull your lip out and claim it for himself.

“And by ‘got ready’ you mean…” he prompts, a wicked smile spreading on his face.

“I touched myself,” you admit, no shame in your words. “I touched myself while thinking about my handsome man and his handsome cock and the way it was going to fill me when I came over here.”

Flip grabs one of your hands then, zeroing in on your fingers. All the while he keeps thrusting up into you, feet flat on the floor and muscles rippling throughout his body with the effort.

“Did these fingers rub your little clit?”

“Yes,” you say, still confident. Flip licks a stripe up your index and middle finger, almost as if doing so would allow him to taste remnants of your essence.

“Did you stuff them inside your pussy. Press that little spot inside you like so much?” As he says it he thrusts up and forward, making his cock drag against your front wall in a way that’s got you buckling in on yourself.

“Oh god oh yes. Yes!” You’re trying to remain as quiet as possible but it’s getting harder by the second. The station was empty save for Flip when you’d arrive but soon other people would return. A fact that made your pussy drool all the more on Flip’s throbbing cock.

Flip watches you fall apart in his arms and speeds up the process by sucking on your fingertips, splitting them apart with his tongue and laving each equally. You swallow a moan as he brings your own wetted fingers down to the apex of your thighs.

“Show me,” he breathes, moving forward to kiss your lips. “Show me what I do to you.”

You begin rubbing your clit just as Flip assaults your senses in all other ways. He captures your mouth in a kiss while simultaneously returning to kneading at your breasts with abandon, tugging and squeezing at the pillowy flesh.

“Did you cry out my name in that empty house when you came?” he prompts. You shake your head feverishly, your thighs shaking around him as your climax nears.

“No. I didn’t cum. I saved that for you.”

In a flash of blinding pleasure, you unraveling on top of him, careful to suppress the reaction to little gasps and whimpers instead of the loud praise and guttural moans you would have preferred to let out. The suddenness of your orgasm catches Flip off guard and he is utterly unprepared for the way your walls flutter and pulse, ultimately milking his cock of his own release. You collapse in his arms with a shaky laugh, one he’s only able to reciprocate when the ringing in his ears begin to lessen and his heart stops trying to pound a route out of his chest.

You both revel in the afterglow for a few minutes after, holding each other like you aren’t in his office in the middle of the Colorado Springs Police Department. Like people aren’t about to file in after their dinner break, bellies full and completely unaware of the fact that Flip had just railed you into next February.

After a while, Flip finally pulls out and tucks himself away, once again the picture of professionalism. Or at least, as much the picture of professionalism as Flip cares to appear, what with his eternal flannel and comfortably warm in jeans, the wet patch of your arousal finally fading. He helps you clean up with some napkins he has stashed in a drawer, ultimately bundling you back up in your coat and scarf. You now look sweet and warm again, a stark contrast to the vixen who had crawled across his desk and stripped for him.

Now descent, you settle back into his lap sideways, opting not to straddle him tis time in case someone did finally walk in. You run a finger through the hair at his chin.

“You said earlier you said you’d ended up setting something up for me. What was it?”

Flip blinks at your question for a few seconds before letting out a laugh that ripples from deep in his belly.

“I sent Jimmy and his brother with a box of chocolates over to the house. They were supposed to sing you a Motown duet.”

“I would pay to hear that. When are they supposed to get there?”

“They’re supposed to arrive right now.”

With that you dissolve into a fit of laughter, falling into his chest as you heave from it. Flip’s arms wind around you and tug you tighter to him. And in that moment, he almost believes in this stupid holiday. Almost believes in the cartoon hearts and the fat little winged baby that flies around shooting people. What else could possibly explain the sharp pain radiating from his chest when he looks at you? The ache that dulls as it floods to his extremities, simmering into a warmth that fills him from head to toe? All Flip can think as he smooths his thumb over your smiling lips is that cupid better have a up-to-date permit for that bow of his.

~*~

Tagging some lovelies <3 (please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list in the future!): @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @edencherries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @paper-n-ashes @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @thegreenmatt @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @morby @mrs-zimmerman @maryforyou @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @equivocalrabbit @soggywhore @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess

#request #queeniebee #anon #valentine's day #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #Flip Zimmerman/reader #Flip Zimmerman/you #Flip Zimmerman smut #Flip Zimmerman fanfiction #smut #writing #roanniom #tw: semi public sex #cw: semi-public sex

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 4 years

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Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 10 of 27: Dating

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 9

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR AMAZING FEEDBACK! I AM BEYOND GRATEFUL FOR EVERYONE WHO READS THIS STORY! This project has become so important to me and I have so much fun working on it! Thank you thank you thank you! Also - this chapter is a little shorter and more ‘calm’ at first. But be prepared, it’s still very important to everything that follows it!! <33 Enjoy!

Words: 3.1k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader Warnings: none

Two days after Hogsmeade …

Monday morning. You yawned and it turned into a chuckle when Malfoy mimicked you.

“It’s contagious,” he defended himself quietly to avoid attracting Professor Sprouts attention. He sat next to you, way back in the last row of the classroom. It had been your idea – after finding out that almost none of your friends believed your act, it seemed like a good idea to sit next to each other during classes. Maybe it would help convince them.

With a flick of her wand, Professor Sprout made an assignment appear on the blackboard. Nothing too difficult. You walked to the front to get the small flower you were supposed to work with and Ron glared at you from his seat. You ignored him.

Back at your table, Malfoy and you started working together quietly. When you looked at his notes, you leaned over a little too closely, feeling dizzy from the smell of his cologne. Whenever he reached for something, his hand brushed over yours. His comments were accompanied by smiles and direct eye contact. He played his part so well, you almost believed it. From the corners of your vision, you saw Ron staring.

You acted the same in every class that you shared. During breaks, you stayed together – always a few feet away from the others. You discovered how funny he could be when he gave you live-commentary of a fight happening between a Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

In the evening, you came back to your dorm, feeling unusually content. Not even the letter from the parents on your desk changed that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, your mother had written. I simply don’t understand and I am scared for you. I can’t lose you too.

“Oh, mum,” you whispered, rubbing your neck. Then you sat down and reached for a quill. She deserved the truth. At least, a little of it.

***

One week after Hogsmeade …

Draco was happy.

Well, maybe happy was a little exaggerated but he felt … calmer. He used to spend his free time by himself which gave him plenty of opportunities to think. About the war, his parents, himself – and it nearly killed him. The notebook was an escape, a good way to focus, but it wasn’t enough. No matter how many pages he filled, he still felt himself sliding away from his surroundings. Now he spent that time with you – and things began to change. In those few days he even stopped dreading getting out of bed because Draco had finally something to look forward to again: spending time with you.

Draco considered you his friend. A part of him had trouble with the realization since being around someone like you went against everything his parents taught him but he tried tirelessly to shut it off. No, you were his friend and being around you made him feel almost okay.

“What are you writing?”

The sound of your voice caused Draco to look up from his notebook. The two of you sat in the library. You were across from him, finishing up on some homework. Draco shrugged. What was he supposed to say? I’m writing about you? Certainly not.

“Can I read it at some point?”, you tilted your head in curiosity. You did that a lot, Draco noticed. It reminded him of a puppy.

Am I comparing her to a dog?, he scolded himself in the next second. No, he didn’t mean it like that. He meant to think that he thought it was cute when you did that. You … were cute.

“It’s okay,” you finally said with a smile when you sensed his hesitation. “It’s personal, I get it – or do you keep track of dirty dreams in it?” You teased him.

“Only of the dreams involving you,” he winked at you, causing you to snort. Despite the joke, Draco was relieved you didn’t dig any further.

From where he sat, he had a direct view of the huge door leading inside the library. This was the reason why he saw the Greengrass sisters walking in, their gaze immediately landing upon him. He casually reached over the table and softly began to draw circles on your soft skin with the tip of his finger. He smirked at your shiver.

“Ron?”, you asked, not looking up from your book.

“Astoria,” he replied.

A few minutes later, Astoria and Daphne left again. Draco didn’t pull his hand away.

***

Two weeks after Hogsmeade …

Snowflakes were dancing in the cold winter air as you sat on the bleachers with Malfoy. Down on the Quidditch field, the Slytherins were practicing under the strong rule of Zabini. Games were cancelled but they still needed to stay in shape.

“I never pictured you as an Auror,” Malfoy confessed. He had asked about your future plans just seconds before.

“Why?”, you wanted to know.

He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. I always thought you’d become … a healer. Or a teacher maybe.”

His words made you laugh. “Are you serious?”

Malfoy nodded.

“Well, no,” you shrugged. “I wanted to be an Auror since I was little girl. And I’ll make it, believe me.”

He raised his hands in a defensive manner. “I have no doubts about that. It simply surprised me.”

You chuckled another time at the thought of becoming a teacher. It had always been the furthest thing on your mind. You loved Hogwarts, it had been your home for years but you craved to see more from the world. Especially since the war happened. You didn’t want to spend your whole life in this castle.

“What do you want to do?”, you then asked, curious as to what his answer might be. It was hard for you to picture him outside of school.

Malfoy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

It surprised you. “Really?”, you wondered. “Pureblood families like yours normally have a plan set up for their kids, don’t they?”

“Normally,” he laughed bitterly. “My father wanted me to follow his footsteps and get some high-ranking job in the Ministry. That’s not an option anymore. For obvious reasons.”

He was probably right. The wounds were still too fresh. The chances for a former Death Eater to be employed in the Ministry of Magic were slim.

You stayed on the bleachers for hours. It had only been a little over two weeks since the Halloween party and yet you had become a lot closer to Malfoy than you expected. You felt comfortable talking to him. Both of you had very different childhoods and friends – you came from different worlds. However, it was precisely this fact that made it easy to talk to each other. You were almost certain that he felt the same.

***

Three weeks after Hogsmeade …

Draco watched you flick through the pages of a magazine and for the first time since that night in the storage room, he saw you. And by Merlin, how beautiful you were.

He sat on the couch in the Room of Requirements with you, listening to the flames crackling in the small fireplace in front of him. You were laying down on your back, head propped up against the armrest, a small wrinkle on your forehead as you read the descriptions in the magazine. Your legs were stretched out and on his lap. Draco wondered why – no one would be around to see you anyways.

“Stop staring, Malfoy, it’s creepy,” you giggled.

Draco blinked as he snapped back into reality. “I’m not staring, I’m thinking, Y/L/N.”

“Think without staring at me.”

Easier said than done.

Draco cleared his throat. “What are you looking at anyways?”

“Christmas presents for my parents. But,” you clicked your tongue, “I can’t find anything good.”

Draco grabbed your legs and lifted them slightly while moving over closer to you. “Let me see. I’m awesome at getting gifts.”

***

Four weeks after Hogsmeade …

When December arrived, Hogwarts felt like home again. A cheerful atmosphere filled the castle, accompanied by snowball fights outside and hot chocolates in the common rooms. As if a spell was lifted, something changed within the students and parents alike.

You happily noticed how Ginny needed less and less of her sleeping medicine. The nightmares slowly faded, being replaced by happier memories. The letters from your mother barely mentioned your sister anymore. Instead, she talked about carriage rides in the snow with your father and her plans for Christmas dinner. For the first time in a while, you looked forward to going home.

You wondered if it was the same for Draco. When they put up the Christmas tree in the Great Hall, he got even more quiet than usual. It planted an idea inside your head and on that same day, you wrote a letter to your parents, asking them if he could spend the holidays with them. They agreed. It came to no surprise to you; your mother was eager to meet him and see if her prejudices and fears would be proven right.

“I don’t want to impose,” Draco said with a stern voice when you told him after dinner.

“You’re not! I asked them and they want to meet you. Come on,” you insisted.

He watched you with uncertainty and furrowed brows. “I don’t know. I can’t –”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”, you interrupted him.

Draco looked away at the question; that same expression of bitterness on his face that you’d seen too often for your own liking.

“I thought so,” you said softly. “Please, Draco, come with me.”

He sighed and wiped his hands over his eyes. “Why would they even want to meet me?”

You smiled widely. “You’re my boyfriend.” Never would you have thought it would sound normal to say that.

“Yes, but –”, he lowered his voice, “– but not really.”

True. For a weird reason, it stung a little to be reminded by him. “I am your friend though, aren’t I?”

He blinked at the word ‘friend’ and you wondered if he felt differently about it. Then he nodded.

“Awesome!”, you exclaimed, shooing away your worries. “Then it’s settled. Christmas at my place.”

In that moment, Harry and Ron walked passed you. Ron didn’t even glance at you. How weird, you wondered, this was the first time in days that you thought about him.

***

Five weeks after Hogsmeade …

My dearest Draco,

I am delighted to hear that Y/N’s family invited you for Christmas. They are very kind to do so. Please remember to bring a little housewarming gift. Although it hurts me to be away from you this Christmas, I do believe it’s a better option for you than visiting your grandparents with me. I’m sure the holidays will be spent in a rather somber spirit this year as your father will be unable to join us. I want you to have at least a little fun and am looking forward to your stories.

Lots of love, your Mother

P.S.: I met with Mrs. Greengrass yesterday. She is not upset and gave me her word to wait until you are ready.

Draco shook his head in amusement when he finished reading the letter. Only his mother could wish him a nice time with his (fake) girlfriend and then continue with ‘if you’re done having fun, your fiancée is still available’.

“That’s why pureblood traditions are fucked up,” was something you would say right now. But you weren’t here. You were practicing for the first Quidditch game in the new year and Draco sat in his dorm, waiting for Blaise to get ready.

Reading the letter a second time, he started to wonder. Why would Mrs. Greengrass wait? Why did their family want this union so desperately? The questions were lingering on his mind ever since you brought them up months ago. He failed to come up with an answer to this day.

“Please don’t tell me that’s a letter to Y/N,” Blaise announced when he stepped out of the bathroom.

Draco rolled his eyes. “It’s from my mother, idiot.”

“Good,” his friend sighed dramatically. “Because I rarely get to see you now that you have her. No need for you to start writing love letters when she’s not around.”

Even though his nagging slightly annoyed Draco, he realized something in this moment: it had worked. The whole PDA and ‘being-more-affective-in-public’- thing worked. It had been almost two weeks since Theo or Blaise (or even Astoria) tried to get him to confess that they were faking it. His friends started to believe them.

“Yeah, whatever,” Draco gave a dismissive wave of his hand and put the letter away. “Maybe I just don’t want to see you, Zabini, and it has nothing to do with Y/N.”

Blaise laughed. “No, you love me too much. Now, let’s go. Theo’s waiting for us.”

***

Six weeks after Hogsmeade …

A loud shriek echoed through the classroom and you almost dropped the container of cat teeth on the floor. Parkinson jumped up and down, trying to get a slimy violet mass shaken off her leg. It didn’t budge and made its way up her pants, accompanied by absolutely disgusting slurping and smacking sounds. You tried hard to suppress a laugh but when you saw the way Harry grinned behind her, you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling.

Professor Slughorn hurried over and quickly cast a spell. The mass fell down to the floor and stopped moving. “Oh well, Ms. Parkinson,” he quickly glanced inside her cauldron. “It’s important to add the cat teeth before the mandrake juice.” Then he knelt down in front of her, inspecting her pants. “It looks like nothing got on your skin. If I am mistaken, please go and see Madame Pomfrey. It can leave nasty burns behind.”

The Slytherin girl nodded, still in shock.

“What happened?”, Draco joined you at your table. He had gone to the backroom, to gather missing ingredients.

“Parkinson got attacked by her potion,” you sneered while counting the cat teeth. “It was hilarious.”

“I bet,” he grinned, before skimming over the instructions again.

“I think I need to go and see Madame Pomfrey,” Parkinson whined behind you. “It got through the fabric of my pants.”

As if, you thought and rolled your eyes.

“Please go,” you heard Slughorn say. “Better not take any chances. Interestingly, this modified form of the potion has been used in the past. They removed foreign magical particles with it, such as certain marks that resulted from dark spells. It is very aggressive though and since then, the healers have invented different potions. However, when it touches your normal skin, it only leaves burns and scars. Please, Ms. Parkinson, please go. Mr. Nott, you can accompany her.”

“Huh,” Draco made next to you. “What did she do wrong again?”

You sighed when you saw that you had miscounted the teeth. Damnit.

“Y/N?”

“What?”, you looked at him.

Draco stared at the liquid inside the cauldron, a blank expression on his face. “What did Pansy do wrong?”

“She put in the mandrake juice before the cat teeth.” You frowned. “Why?”

“No reason.”

***

That same day …

It was late when you returned from Quidditch practice; tired and sweaty. All you craved was a shower and then your bed. Playing that sport in your free time was one thing but practicing under Ginny as Captain? You were glad that you didn’t die yet.

“Y/L/N!”

Someone shouted your name as you walked inside the castle.

“Y/L/N!”

Irritated, you turned around, trying to make out the person that voice belonged to.

“Y/L/N, here!” Theodore Nott sprinted down the stairs, coming from the direction of the Gryffindor common room. “Fuck, we looked everywhere for you!”, he cursed, completely out of breath, when he finally reached you.

“We?”, you asked with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”

You then noticed the fear in his eyes. He gripped so tightly onto the stair railings that his knuckles turned white and his whole body was trembling. Panic began to dwell up inside of you. Draco.

“It’s Draco, something happened,” he panted. “You have to come, please!”

Your blood froze. “What’s going on?!”, your voice turned shrill but he ran down the stairs again.

“Come!”, he shouted. “Now!”

The two of you sprinted down stairs and hallways, passing confused classmates on the way. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you repeated the same sentence over and over again in your head: Something happened to Draco. The thought of it was unbearable and it hit you like a brick wall, making it hard to breathe. Please, no. Not him.

When you reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Theodore turned to you abruptly. He grabbed you by your shoulders. “Act normal,” he hissed. “Walk slowly. They don’t need to know.”

You nodded absently. Your hands were clam and you tried to calm down your breathing.

“Okay,” he didn’t seem convinced that you understood him. Then he mumbled the password and the door opened.

Under normal circumstances, you would have stopped in the middle of the room, looking around in awe. You’d never been here before; it was a mystery to you. But now, you only briefly glanced at the green and black furniture. There weren’t many students around. The ones that saw you, stared at your red Quidditch robes.

“What the fuck?”, someone said loudly. “What’s she doing here?!”

Nott ignored them, leading you quickly to the stairs that must have led up to the dorms. You noticed the windows on the way up and gasped when you realized that you didn’t look at the fields of Hogwarts. You were under the Black Lake.

“Finally,” Zabini exclaimed. He had waited in front of a door, looking just as shaken up as Nott. “You found her.”

“What’s going on?”, you asked for the third time now. “Where is he?”, your voice trembled a little.

“In here,” Nott pointed at the room. “In the bathroom. He locked himself in.”

“He wouldn’t let us in and asked for you,” Zabini continued with a quiet voice, fidgeting with his hands. “It’s … you’ll see. Just go in and help him.” He paused briefly. “Please.”

You nodded and reached for the door handle. Three deep breaths. One … two … three.

You pushed open the door and stepped in, closing it softly behind you. Looking around, everything looked perfectly ordinary. Three beds, three wardrobes, a table. Your gaze wandered over to the door that lead into the bathroom. Then you heard it – a sob. And another one. Someone was crying. He was crying. Your heart broke at the sound.

“Draco?”

***

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! <33 Also: did you notice Y/N stopped calling him “Malfoy” halfway through the chapter and switched to “Draco”?

CHAPTER 11

“Choose Me Instead” Masterlist HP Masterlist

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years

Text

12. Draco's clever boyfriend

Prompt used - pushing hair behind others ear | Draco is flustered by Harry's affection|

When Draco became friends with harry after the war, harry had changed a lot, the days where they used to call each other prat had long gone, their conversations had become so civilized that if you asked a stranger if they seemed like they used to be arch nemesis once, they’d laugh at your face.

However with Draco discovering his sexual orientation it wasn’t easy being around harry, since harry was Draco's gay awakening. He realized it after staying around harry how much he was interested in men. And it definitely didn’t help when harry was simply very affectionate in behavior, maybe it came from not having enough affection growing up or it was the aftermath of the war, Draco didn’t know and as much as he appreciated it, he sometimes hated harry for showing affection in ways that caused Draco's heart to flutter.

“ if it annoys you so much just tell him to stop doing that” pansy suggested him one day when they went out for tea

“ but that would just crush his heart “ draco replied calmly sipping his tea

“ no it won’t draco, he’s harry, he’s the most understanding man in the world” pansy stated as if it was the most obvious thing

" but that doesn't mean it won't hurt him that I don't want him doing affectionate thing's to me and then him understanding would be a problem " Draco sighed.

" honey, if it bothers you then just explain it to him. I am sure it's a little thing, he won't be that hurt if you explain him properly " pansy said sweetly.

" no pansy you don't understand-"

" what do I not understand Draco, you're clearly bothered by him showing affection that way and I know it's a bit awkward for you. Just tell him maybe tone down a bit " pansy furrowed her eyebrows in confusion of why Draco was Rolling his eyes

" i- I nevermind, I'll tell him to tone down a bit" Draco cut back

" no what is it, tell me ?" She leaned forward on the table, pushing her tea aside " this is clearly troubling you and I want to help you Draco "

" it's not troubling me pansy. I- If I tell him to tone down I know he'll completely back off " Draco explained

" and that is a problem because ?" Pansy asked raising her eyebrows.

Looking forward while exhaling Draco confessed " i- because I think then he'll do those things to Someone else and -"

" and you don't want that ?" Pansy asked smirking as she leaned back in understanding the troubling part

" yeah " Draco exhaled.

" so you want him to tone down or maybe stop being annoying but if Harry does it someone else, it would bother " Draco nodded " honey you've got some serious problems " pansy chuckled.

" thanks pansy for this enlightening information that I haven't figured out myself" Draco sarcastically replied. Laughing pansy shook her head " you like him, Draco, that's what the problem is. I must say I'm not surprised "

" I'm not in love with him " Draco defend

" I never said you're in love, but now I think you might be " pansy smirked

" fuck you pans" Draco rolled his eyes. For the rest of the conversation pansy kept teasing Draco about it.

As it turned out Draco was in fact jealous of Harry showing the affection the way he showed him to someone else. He only discovered it in a party when Harry was standing talking to some guy,Colin from work. He had not only bought the guy a drink but also slightly kept touching his arms every once in awhile.

" you'll crush the glass Draco" Pansy Smugly said when she noticed Draco. It wasn't a big deal but the way Harry kept touching the guy, stirred something in him. He tried hard to avoid the fact that Harry had been touching the guy but failed miserably because when he came back to talk to them, Draco Only interested him in one word answers which obviously was weird for harry.

Draco assumed that it was only matter of one day but when he walked in on Harry with some guy from work again talking while almost holding hands, like they had just shook hands, Draco couldn't resist the roll of eyes. He had gone back to his office without even talking to harry and when asked upon why he came, he Only told him he forgot.

His jealousy started to tone down when one day while harry and Draco were out shopping for Ron's birthday when Harry noticed something.

" you for your ears pierced ?" He asked with an amused smile. Smiling back Draco nodded. He didn't thought Harry would've actually wanted to take a good look on it until he realised he did.

" looks nice " Harry complimented pushing Draco's hair behind his ear. He almost stopped looking for a moment when Harry did it, Harry had been so close to his ears that he could almost feel his breath down on his neck.

" you have nice ears by the way " Harry complimented

" thanks " Draco awkwardly replied and then Harry moved away resuming to look for gifts.

It was soon Harry developed a habit of pushing Draco's attractively slightly Long hair behind his ear each time he got a chance like he did it while he was reading on the couch in Harry's place while the rest of his friends were invested in conversation. Harry had done it so absent Mindedly that Draco couldn't even smile. Once he did while they were out on a lunch outside office, Draco had almost blushed , while harry smiled fondly at him. He also did it while harry and Draco were standing next to each other for a meeting in the conference hall, Draco assumed Harry wasn't paying much attention to meeting but it was Only for a miniscule of second that Harry had taken to do it and resumed listening to the meeting attentively. And the most recent time was at Hermione's party for work while they were standing next to each other admiring the event when Harry had did it purposely and Draco could only smile. He enjoyed Harry doing this so much that he purposely covered his ears with his hair so that Harry would push it behind and harry did.

It was all fun and games until he noticed Harry doing the same with Ginny. It was as if someone had taken Draco's heart out of his heart, squeezed it and put it back inside. He hated this feeling, until now he didn't believe that Pansy was right or he didn't wanted to but now when he saw Harry holding Ginny by her arms, looking in her eyes while talking to her, leaning in towards her every once in a while, pushing her hair out of her face, Draco was beyond pissed that whenever Harry tried to approach him for the rest of the event, he simply walked away. When Ron's birthday party ended, Draco had simply wanted to go quietly but Harry had unfortunately caught up.

" hey listen, I left my wand at your place when I stopped by. Mind if I tag along ?" Apparently Draco couldn't ignore anymore so he simply nodded and they both side along apparated to Draco's place.

" it was a nice party right " Harry spoke while Draco was taking out keys from his pocket.

" yeah" Draco gave a short reply and opened the door, allowing Harry inside.

Frowning Harry walked in with Draco.

" it must be around the kitchen table " Draco said as he immediately walked into the kitchen and looked for Harry's wand.

" found it ?" Harry asked while absentmindedly looking for his wand in the living room.

" not here " Draco replied as he even checked the drawers. Deciding that the wand wasn't in the kitchen he joined Harry in the living room.

" my god, why didn't I thought of it. We could just accio it " Draco suddenly said. Harry stared at Draco dim witted

" o- oh yeah or we can look for it just like this. I mean I might've even left at Ron's place-"

" accio wand " and the wand flew out of from Harry's jacket into Draco's hands.

Holding the wand in his hands, Draco raised an eyebrow asking for an explanation.

" i- I didn't know it was there " Harry stupidly lied

" I'm not Ron Harry " Draco rolled his eyes

" okay fine. I had to talk to you, you kept ignoring me during the party " Harry threw his hands in the air

" I was not " Draco lied, defending himself.

" you're lying " Harry raised his eyebrows as if it so obvious.

" and how do you know that ?" Draco crossed his arms

" because your voice gets high when you're lying " Harry pressed his lips in a thin line trying hard not to break a smile.

Narrowing his eyes Draco defied " no it does not "

" Draco, I know when you lie. It does get pitchy " harry insisted

" fine even if I am lying why do you care, I'm sure you were the time of your life at the party " Draco rolled his eyes throwing Harry's wand at harry and walking into the kitchen just to walk away from Harry.

" why do I care ? What do you mean by that ? You're my friend, I wanted to talk to you but you kept dodging me off like a ball "

" alright, fine, you wanted to talk then talk " Draco slammed his hands on the table

" no I wanted to talk at the party-"

" then pretend we're still there. Just talk Harry, what you so desperately wanted to say that you had to lie to come here" Draco mocked

" wha- I'm not desperate to talk to you -"

" If you don't have anything to talk about Harry then leave " Draco pointed his hand at the door

" no I won't. I won't leave without you giving me an explanation about why you're being such a prat ?" Harry gave him an annoyed look

" look it's already late, if you really have to talk about something important then do otherwise I'm going to bed and you're welcome to do anything you like " Draco rolled his eyes backing off a little

" don't dodge off the question. It's not just today, you've recently been dodging me off whenever we're around people, what is wrong ?" Harry asked leaning over the kitchen table on the opposite end of Draco.

" If you really don't have anything to talk about that is important -"

" it is important to me Draco. I want to talk about this. I need to -"

" you want to talk about it then listen, I'm mad at you" Draco slammed his hands on the table again closing the distance between their faces

" what have I even done to make you mad at me ?" Harry asked, his British accent sounding much more British than it had ever sounded.

" i- nevermind. Can we not-"

" no we have to. I need Answers " Harry huffed

" look I'm tired-"

" so am I, so do us both a Favour and tell me why you're actually mad at me ?" Harry bobbed his head forward to make it more impactful

" i- I'm going to bed, you can leave whenever you want " Draco sighed as he started walking towards the bedroom but harry wasn't done and jerked Draco's wrist to look at him.

" you're not going anywhere without having this conversation " Harry was now more annoyed that before. And as much as it should've annoyed draco, it Only upset him that he was annoying him.

" watch me " Draco raised his eyebrows and wiggled out of his grip but it was just one second before Harry pulled him back again and slammed him against the wall, closing the distance between them.

" answer me Draco " Harry was furious at Draco's attempt to dodge him off again

" why do you even care, so I'm mad at you. I'll get over it " Draco furrowed his eyebrows at his Persistent behaviour.

" Because you're my friend and I don't want anything I do to Sabotage this thing " Harry answered

" well you already have Harry so congratulations " Draco huffed trying to creat some distance between them but harry wouldn't budge

" then at least tell me what did I do? You know I can't stand this " Harry desperately said finally creating some distance between them.

" why? Why can't you stand it ? It's not like we're best friends or something..I'm sure you have other friend you can cozy upto and they'll treat you just the same " Draco rolled his eyes taking the opportunity to walk into the living room.

" cozy upto ? What are you even on about ?" Harry asked turning Draco around once again to face him. Caught in the act Draco couldn't defend himself anymore, in his anger he had slipped the only crucial information he should not be slipped.

Sighing Draco ran his hands through his hair and harry immediately pushing his hair behind his ear " this " Draco suddenly said

" what?"

" this, you pushing my hair behind my ear! Giving me a coaster when I don't even ask for it , changing the songs on the radio while I'm reading for me, sending me memos before lunch to go outside, leaning on me, resting your head on my shoulder, touching my arms, noticing me, complimenting me. Everything you do for me or I thought you did but you do this for Everyone, call me stupid, Merlin I am stupid thinking I'm the only one who you did this for but I'm not. You do this for everyone, so there you go. Thought I was special but clearly I was stupid, idiot to even think that Harry potter would ever be slightly interested in me " Draco finally breathed out after the rant. Harry looked at him awestruck As if he hadn't really expected Draco to actually tell the truth.

" so you're mad because you think I do this with everyone !" Harry asked quizzically

" Merlin I sound stupid. Let's just pretend this conversation never happen-nmph " Draco was cut off by Harry pressing his lips on his. Surprised Draco took a step back for a moment to see any signs of hesitation or reluctance but when received with none, he kissed harry back. His hands automatically pulling Harry closer by his waist. Harry losing his hands in Draco's hair, pulling his head down a bit to close any distance left. Draco hadn't ever not thought about not kissing harry and now when he was finally kissing him, he poured all the desperation and desire in that sweet moment of passion. The more they spent time kissing the more they realised how much they had been missing out on and figured they could do this if it only hadn't been for breathing.

When they separated to take a breath, flustered Harry said " never knew you could be the jealous one but I guess it worked "

" you planned this ?" Draco asked shocked

" some times yeah. I had to know if you felt the same" Harry mumbled

" you're a bastard " Draco chuckled and kissed him again .

_____________________

" so that clever bastard knew what he was doing?" Pansy asked with a smug Look on her face

" I have to say my boyfriend is a clever man" Draco chuckled.

" what are you guys talking about ?" Harry suddenly joined, wrapping his hands around Draco's waist from behind and kissing his shoulder

" your Ill structured plan to get me to kiss you " Draco smirked as he leaned back into Harry.

" it worked " harry shrugged

" and I think it worked for much more " Harry Whispered in Draco's ear. His eyes widened at the Meaning of Harry's word

" at this point I pretend I don't hear Harry whispering Draco something about sex, suggest you get used to it too pans " Ron said as he passed by then eating his Sandwich to pansy who was standing their slightly embarrassed.

And they all laughed. everyone loved Harry and Draco together, he'll they'd been Betting that they would get together. It took time but it did. At the end it worked out for everyone's best.

Requests open

Day 11- hottest couple in Britain | Day 13-love is a choice

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pub-lius · 3 years

Text

A Debunking and, in my Humble Opinion, Superior Version of Weird History’s “Hardcore Facts About Alexander Hamilton”

I haven’t updated my blog in quite some time, and that is due to my schedule being primarily dominated by school. So, I decided my first step into posting semi-regularly once more shall be a more casual, more fun endeavor.

If you have not heard of the Weird History youtube channel, good for you. It is yet another social media platform that misconstrues history to appeal to the public’s enjoyment of extremes and strangeness. I saw The Historical Fashion Queens make a video responding to their highly misinformed documentary on corsetry on Miss Abby Cox’s youtube channel, which I highly recommend. This intrigued me, and I decided to find a video I could dissect off my expertise, at first only for fun in my own time. This resulted in the production in a very long bullet list in the notes app of my phone. So here is my informal destruction of this godforsaken video.

Disclaimer: I am not at all excusing any of the awful things Alexander Hamilton did during his lifetime. I am absolutely the last person who would even come near to claiming that many of the things he did were justifiable in the slightest. Although, he might be the only historical figure which I have a very strong interest in the life of, as he was incredibly complex, and the part of me with a love of psychology finds him absolutely fascinating. There is also something to be said about the way we consider moral standards of historical figures. We are quite lucky to believe in the time that we do, and not all of our standards can apply to historical figures. This does not mean they should not be held accountable. I find that a way to criticize people while also praising them where it is due is by judging them based upon their intentions. In my opinion, Hamilton’s intentions were not to harm anyone in most situations, so I don’t think he was a terrible person, nor do I think he was a particularly good one. Then again, I don’t think either of those things about a mass majority of people, so let us proceed without further delay. (Note: I will also be referring to the collective Weird History channel as the Narrator to avoid any mental gymnastics, and all of my knowledge is coming from my memory of Hamilton’s writing and some biographies.)

Automatically, the video starts with mention of the musical, but that just reminds me that many use Ron Chernow’s biography of Hamilton as a basis of their statements about him without utilizing much critical thinking, so I am slightly nervous.

The Narrator then refers to Hammy Ham man as “...one of America’s most undervalued founding fathers...” Now, it is debatable whether or not Mr. Hamilton is undervalued per se, but when it comes to the founding fathers, they are usually undervalued or overvalued. At this point, Hamilton is both.

I shall not subscribe, thank you for the offer though, Mr. Narrator.

Now for the first fact: “Historians don’t know when Hamilton was born.” Yes, this is correct, but I don’t believe this should be labeled as “hardcore”, but perhaps that is just me. One early document indicates that Hamilton was born in 1755, while all later ones point to 1757 as his year of birth. We know Hamilton was not always a completely honest man, so it is possible that he lied.

Also, they show an image of a baby, and I do not know if this is actually Hamilton, but they use a lot of strange imagery, which I found humorous.

“A self-made man born out of wedlock.” Now, this fact could indeed be “hardcore”, if this was not colonial America we are discussing. Hamilton actually wasn’t really special in this regard. Yes, his rise to fame was impressive considering his circumstances, but this wasn’t unheard of.

The Narrator then says that Hamilton’s mother, Rachel Faucette, was “estranged from her husband.” This caused me some confusion as it is a vast understatement. Her ex-husband was absolutely awful to her.

Additionally, they claim that James Hamilton left his family behind for some reason that I did not write in my notes, but the most likely reason that he actually left was because of his awesome debt. James Hamilton also had a history of ambitious pursuits for money, so it would not be extreme to claim that he moved to another island to attempt to make a fortune in some trading endeavor.

They also cease to mention the Stevens family, who housed young Alexander while he was working for Beekman and Cruger, and had a great influence on him, but I digress.

“A college dropout who joined the Revolution.” Once again, this isn’t special. Many rowdy young Whigs left behind their careers and educations for pursuit of military fame in the Continental Army. They also do not mention anything of Hamilton’s expansive military career, which aside from being indicative of primitive research, but would produce more “hardcore facts.”

Although, they do discuss his application to Princeton college, which is interesting enough I suppose, although everyone who has heard the first two songs of the musical knows this story. His proposal for an “accelerated course of study” was likely inspired by Aaron Burr, as claimed by Chernow and Miranda, or James Madison, as supported by evidence provided by author Noah Feldman in his novel, The Three Lives of James Madison, which is an excellent read. Young Madison, having already completed a course, decided to do so again, but compacting a usually three year course into a shorter period of time. He hardly slept during this period, which was stressful upon his health, making Princeton more disinclined to allow a similar course to be taken.

The Narrator then claims that Hamilton “formed his own militia of 25 men.” Technically, yes? But not exactly. Hamilton joined a paramilitary group called the Hearts of Oak, and they drilled in Trinity Churchyard. This became ironic later. He then became a captain in the New York Artillery Company, and enlisted his own men, which was at one time around thirty or so, if my memory serves me correctly.

“Founded a bank that existed for over two centuries.” Ah, yes, a very hardcore fact indeed. Yes, Hamilton did establish the Bank of America, but Robert Morris was the one who inspired him to do so. Though, I do think the financial plan is a product of his own genius, but I will get into that much later.

I got an ad. :(

The Narrator also says that the misfortunes done to the New York shipping industry by the Articles of Confederation were the most prominent, if not sole, motivation for Hamilton to concoct his financial plan. He first recognized the need for a sound financial plan when he was in the army. You know, when he was watching men die of inadequate supplies because the government couldn’t tax the states.

This video, like Chernow’s biography and Miranda’s musical, claims that Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr were friends when, in actuality, they weren’t really. Yes, they knew each other, and they didn’t hate each other until the end of Hamilton’s life, but they really didn’t think about each other much before the Election of 1800.

“Hamilton authored over half of the Federalist Papers.” Indeed, he did! I enjoy this fact. It isn’t very “hardcore” but it is very impressive. The Federalist Papers were arguably Hamilton’s greatest accomplishment, as he organized the entire thing and, as previously stated, authored much of them. I very much enjoy the Federalist Papers, as they give some insight as to Hamilton’s political and philosophical theories, as well as how he thought of the world. It makes for an interesting read if you have something you’re looking for.

Now, this may be a hot take, but Madison’s essays are by far more effective, as they were better organized. Hamilton and I share a common flaw, and that is the lack of brevity.

“Involved in America’s first sex scandal.” Yes, we all know. I’ll get into the Reynold’s affair later because it’s its own beast to conquer. Basically what you need to understand information I shall provide later in this post is that James Reynolds extorted money from Hamilton, and if Hamilton failed to pay, Reynolds would expose the affair Hamilton was having with his wife, Maria. Hamilton paid, but when Reynolds was arrested for something else, he exposed Hamilton anyway.

“He worked with Aaron Burr to defend a man.” Once again, this isn’t very surprising. They were both capable lawyers in the same area, so it was basically inevitable. Though there was this one instance where Hamilton and Burr were working on a case together and Hamilton, being himself, insisted upon having the last word. Well, Burr was tired of him, and I can’t say I blame him, so he made every possible argument in his finishing speech, leaving Hamilton with virtually nothing.

The Narrator also mentions Hamilton’s opposition to slavery, but he didn’t really outwardly oppose it as much as you would think listening to the musical or reading Chernow’s biography. Far from being the “fervent abolitionist” Chernow and Miranda glorify, Hamilton didn’t really do much for the enslaved. He helped John Laurens in his Black Plan and joined the Manumission Society, but other than that, he never made any attempt to progress the abolition of slavery. He also “purchased” slaves for his in-laws, and some argue that he “owned” some himself, but there is no contemporary evidence to support this that I have seen. The enslaved and servants that were in his household likely belonged to his wife.

“Founded a newspaper that still exists.” Ok.

“Died by duel.” I swear, this fact is by far the most unnecessary. They mention the duel so many times that it is already redundant. I completely skipped over this part, and the video ended, so I was thoroughly underwhelmed.

Well, seeing as this post is already longer than my attention span, I shall save you the pains of having to read any more in just one post. I shall make a follow-up to this where I give my own facts, which I believe are far more hardcore than “he founded a newspaper.” I hope you have enjoyed and this isn’t too terribly boring. I hope to get back to posting soon.

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official-weasley · 3 years

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Niece Aoede - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: I can't think of anything really 🙈

Word count: 2,741

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

Charlie

“Good morning.” I stretched in the doorway that leads to the kitchen.

“Good morning.” Olivia smiled at me. “Would you like some tea or coffee?”

“Tea's fine.” I rubbed my eyes and sat down.

“Are you okay?” She tilted her head, observing me.

“Fine. Just a bit nervous, that's all.” I scratched the back of my head.

“To take Aoede to meet your family?”

“Charlie?” She said softly after a moment of silence, me biting my lip.

“Yeah.” I confessed.

“Molly didn't mention anything to me, but did you two have a fallout?” She placed her hand on top of mine.

“No.” I shook my head. “It's nothing.” I tried convincing her with a smile but I know she knows me better than that.

“I know your mum can be a bit much.” She sighed.

“It's not...yeah.” I bowed my head. “It's just, I know she apologized and everything is fine now but I hated how she reacted when we told her that Nova is pregnant.” My brows came together, reminiscing on the moment.

“Ah, she told me about that, yes.” Olivia nodded her head.

“I am used to her not agreeing with my choices but you saw how happy we were when we told you and we wanted to share that joy with my family and she ruined everything. It might've not been planned but we wouldn't change anything in the world and you should see how nervous Nova was to tell my parents that we are entering a new chapter in our lives. She was supposed to burst from happiness not look green in the face because she knew how my mum will react and she didn't want to disappoint her.” I tried hard to keep myself calm but I just couldn't help it, she made me so mad that day.

“I hate that she can't understand that I am old enough to take care of myself and that I have my own family now. She treats me as if I am a first-year and I...” I took a deep breath. “I guess now that I'm older I am seeing her in a different light.”

“She is just worried for you and wants the best for you.” Olivia said calmly.

“Then why could you be happy for us and share such a sweet moment with us when we told you? Why could dad be happy and supportive? Why does she always have to...” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “You know, what? Forget I said anything.”

“Don't tell her this, but I think she should've reacted differently too. Want me to talk to her?”

“What good will that do? She will never change and never stop bossing us around. Do you know that she is the reason why I suggested to Nova that we stay with you and not at the Burrow? I knew that you will give us space and act normal and not lecture us every five minutes and tell Nova that she shouldn't sit that way while pregnant but find a different position or some nonsense like that.”

“You know she loves you and she just wants the best for you and I am not trying to defend her or be on her side. She just has her own way of showing those things and perhaps bossing you around and telling you what to do is the only way she knows and is not even aware that she is doing it. I know it's hard to understand but you and Nova are planning to have more children and getting along with your family is important for them.” She sighed. “I would know, both my and Roger's parents died before Nova was even born and I wish for nothing else than she could have grandparents in her life. Do stand up to her but don't cut her off completely.” She gave me a soft smile.

“Yeah, you're right.” I nodded. “Thank you for listening to me, Olivia.”

“Any time, Charlie. As much as Nova is a part of your family that much you are a part of hers.”

“Are the girls still sleeping?” Olivia asked as she put a cup of tea in front of me.

“No, Aoede woke up a while ago. I changed her and now Nova is breastfeeding her.” I took a sip of my tea.

“It makes me very happy that you help Nova so much. She even looks rested.” Olivia giggled.

“Well, she has been carrying her for 9 months and she had to give birth to her now it's my turn to have sleepless nights so Nova can get as much sleep as possible.” I smiled at her.

“Yeah, you'll have plenty of those, don't you worry.” Olivia laughed.

“I don't mind at all. I would never sleep again if it means my girls would be rested and well taken care of.”

“Olivia?” I waved a hand in front of her face when she didn't say nor blink for solid 30 seconds.

“Oh, I'm sorry for staring at you.” She put her hand in front of her mouth, embarrassed. “I just don't think I ever told you how lucky Nova is to have you.”

“Oh,” I felt the heat on my cheeks, “thank you.”

“I mean it, Charlie. Roger and I were hoping that our Nova would find someone that can truly understand her and bring the best out of her. You have done that and so much more and I know we don't talk often and you needed quite some time to loosen up around me,” she giggled, “but just know that I think you are perfect for my daughter.”

“Uh, I-”

“Good morning.” Nova's soft voice saved me from my awkward stuttering.

Olivia's compliment caught me completely off guard. Nova has always been closer to my mum than I was with hers. Mostly, because she hardly had the time to see us and we never really spent that much time on our own – Nova was always with us.

She was right when she said that I needed some time to relax around her. She never gave me any reason not to, I just found her intimidating and I wanted her to like me, especially when Nova and I started dating.

We got closer ever since we announced that we are going to have a baby and we spent some time alone together when Nova told Bill about her being pregnant. Now, that we have been living with her for the past 14 days because our house is under renovation, we have become really good friends and I finally feel like I am a part of Nova's family.

“How is my favorite girl?” Olivia turned her baby voice on.

“Are you talking to me or Aoede?” Nova giggled giving her the baby then she sat down next to me and kissed me.

“You want to eat something before we go?” I asked her.

“I think Molly will be delighted to give me something and if we go right now, we might catch Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny in their common room.” She smiled at me.

“Right, they won't all be there.” Olivia was still talking in her baby voice. “Who is the prettiest girl in the world?”

Nova and I giggled looking at her mum. She has that voice every time she is talking to our daughter and at this point, I am surprised that she can even switch back to her normal voice.

“I'll go upstairs and prepare everything then.” I started to get up.

“I already did that but I did forget the bag upstairs if you could...”

“I'm on it!” I stood up cutting Nova off.

The sooner we come to the Burrow the sooner we can come back here.

—

“Are you ready?” I whispered to Nova as we were standing in front of the door of my childhood home.

“Are you?” She whispered back, trying not to wake up the baby.

“I'll be fine as long as she doesn't say anything to you.” I kissed her.

“See, sweetheart, daddy is very overprotective so you should get used to that.” Nova giggled, kissing our daughter's nose.

We barely had the time to knock on the door when it swung open.

“You are finally here! What took you so long!” Mum's voice was nothing near a whisper.

I looked at Aoede who just moved in the blanket Nova had her wrapped in and continued sleeping.

“Oh, the baby is sleeping. I'm sorry.” Mum lowered her voice and moved so we could come inside.

“Hi, dad.” I waved at him as he stood up from the sofa.

“There he is! Welcome to fatherhood!” He pulled me into a hug and tapped me twice on the back.

“Thanks, dad.” I couldn't stop a smile from spreading all over my face.

I liked my new title a lot. I always wanted a family but it wasn't until our daughter was born that I realized just how strong my wish to be a dad was. I know I can't be the one talking, Aoede being born 14 days ago but so far I loved every second of it – even when Aoede was crying in the middle of the night, not willing to fall asleep.

“I am sorry that nobody else could come, dear.” Mum was next to hug me.

“Bill can't make it?” I tried hiding the disappointment in my voice.

“Sadly, he has been more than busy at work lately.” Mum genuinely looked like she felt sorry that he couldn't come.

“It's okay. We'll meet with him some other day.” I turned to the fireplace.

“What are you doing, Charles?” Mum rushed to my side.

“I sent Fred an owl to meet us through the fire. We have half an hour before the twins, Ron and Ginny continue with their classes.” I explained.

“Oh, don't be silly.” Mum swung her hand. “They'll have the time to meet the baby, properly. You can't do it over the fire.”

“When? In July? Don't be ridiculous.” I turned around to cast a spell on the fire.

“We wish you could all be here for this moment so we came up with a solution.” Nova who was sitting on the sofa, watching my dad holding Aoede, smiled.

“Dad, Nova, come here, so we can all be close to the fire.” I gestured for them to move.

“You can't bring the baby so close to the fire.” Mum protested, trying to stop my dad from sitting down in front of the fireplace.

“Molly, we trust Arthur that he will be careful.” Nova tried calming her down.

“Please stop telling us how to take care of our baby.” I sighed, trying to stay as calm as possible, repeating Olivia's words in my head.

“But...”

“Oh, where is the baby? Where is it?” George's voice interrupted my mum from making me mad.

“Does it have red hair?” Ginny exclaimed.

“Does it look like me?” Fred clapped his hands together.

“Does it have my eyes?” Ron blinked a few times.

“Mum, dad, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny meet your granddaughter and niece, Aoede Io.” Dad gently placed Aoede in my hands and I carefully sat down in front of the fire in the hopes that they will be able to see her.

“Oh, she is so cute!” Ginny put her hands over her mouth.

“She is so small!” Fred was the next to speak.

“She looks nothing like us, Fred.” George tried sounding disappointed.

“We...we have a granddaughter.”

The second mum heard me say it, her cheeks were soaked with tears and she forgot all about the dangers of fire and kneeled next to me to finally get a proper look of the little girl in my hands.

“Arthur,” she breathed, “look at her. She is perfect.” Mum sniffed.

“Who picked the name?” Ron asked.

“Charlie.” Nova smiled, leaning her chin on my shoulder, sitting behind me as the space in front of the fireplace was too small to accommodate everyone.

“She has a beautiful name.” Ginny's voice shook a little.

“I don't know if you can see her.” I frowned.

“We see her just fine. Thank you for doing this, Charlie.” George smiled.

“Of course! When you'll see her in the Summer she will be 5 months old.” Nova returned the smile.

“Will I be allowed to hold her?” Ginny asked.

“Of course, you will. All of you will.” I answered, giving Aoede an Eskimo kiss.

“So, who won the bet?” I smirked.

“Almost forgot about that!” Fred jumped on the spot.

“Pay up, George and Ron!” Ginny extended her hand as if waiting for them to give her the money.

“How many times do we have to tell you that Ginny is always right?” I giggled, watching George and Ron give Fred and Ginny the coins.

“Don't get me wrong, I can't wait to meet her, but we have to go!” Ginny nudged her brothers and stood up. “Nova, Charlie, congratulations!” She grinned at us before standing up.

“Yeah, congrats!” Ron followed her lead.

“Thank you for making us uncles!” The twins said in unison.

“I hope you know, we will spoil her rotten.” George chuckled and they broke off the connection.

“Her? I have a niece?” All four of us turned around, seeing Bill standing behind us.

“Bill, you came!” Nova got up at once and threw her arms around him.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss seeing my niece for the first time for anything in this world.” He smiled and returned the hug.

“But you told mum that you can't make it.” I gave Aoede to mum who was eyeing her with sparks in her eyes and stood up.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He winked at me before pulling me into a hug.

“Can I hold her?” Bill asked hopefully, looking at the baby in mum's arms.

“Here you go, William. Be careful with the head.” Mum gave him Aoede and Bill made his way to the sofa.

“Bill, meet your niece, Aoede.” I sat down next to him.

“You got your wish with the name.” He smirked.

That day when Nova told Bill she was pregnant we went for a walk when they came back and he asked me about baby names and I was just too excited not to talk about them to him.

“She looks so much like you, Nova.” Bill whispered as Nova sat down next to him on his other side.

“Even though it's darker than yours.” Bill looked from his niece to me.

“Except the hair.” Dad giggled.

“I was hoping she would get Charlie's hair.” Nova gently ruffled Aoede's soft locks.

“He had the same color when he was born.” Mum said, sitting in her armchair, admiring the scene before her.

“Did you give her a middle name?” Bill asked his eyes on the baby.

“Io.” Nova answered.

“Aww, like you. That is precious.” Bill cooed.

“Do you think she'll have any freckles?” Bill asked after a moment of admiring his niece.

“We hope so.” Nova leaned on his shoulder.

“If you look closely, she has 3 on her nose.” I giggled.

“How was the delivery?” Dad was the first one to snap out of us all looking at our baby girl.

“It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.” Nova rubbed her chin.

“What's important is that it all went smoothly and that you're both okay.”

Just as my mum said that Aoede started crying.

“Oh, no. What did I do?” Bill started to panic.

“Nothing.” Nova giggled. “She's just hungry.” She gestured for Bill to give her the baby and she slowly made her way upstairs.

“Do you want me to come with you?” I started to get up.

“No, no. We'll be fine. Won't we?” She used the same baby voice on Aoede as her mum did.

“She looks fine and rested.” Mum turned to me the second they disappeared on the stairs.

“We are managing. Nova is feeding her when she's hungry and I take care of all the rest so that Nova can get her strength back.” I said nonchalantly.

“That's my son.” Dad winked at me.

“Congratulations, Charlie. She is just lovely.” Bill pulled me into another hug. “When are you having the next one?”

“Hey, slow down. Let this one grow a little.” I laughed, knowing full well he was only joking.

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter fanfiction #hphm charlie #charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #hogwarts mystery mc #the weasleys #hphm fanfiction #hp imagine #charlie weasley x oc #hphm imagine #charlie weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #the burrow

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queen-ofsunflowers · 3 years

Text

DadWorth AU: Part 4 (Trials & Tribulations)

Unlike the previous parts, this is mostly just shenanigans since Kay and Miles at this point are starting to work on bettering their relationship after their reunion in Farewell, My Turnabout. So it’s fun and kind of angsty times because Phoenix still falls off a bridge. Miles is present for most of the cases, excluding Stolen, but his appearances mostly take place in the background.

< Part 3 | Part 5 >

Turnabout Memories

Kay’s junior year at Themis starts and the students are given a chance to look into previous cases for a project that they have to do. Kay decides to do the one that inspired her to be an attorney. Or at least, for her to start following Mia’s career. Which if anyone remembers from part 1, was the State v. Wright 2014.

At the time of the case happening, Kay didn’t recognize the defendant’s name. But now... Now she knows who it is. So she goes directly to Phoenix to get an explanation. In front of just about everybody.

Today is Embarrass Phoenix Wright Day.

If you’re wondering, Kay is absolutely stunned by the fact that Phoenix ate the necklace. She knew it happened, but it’s only now hitting her that the defendant who swallowed the bottle and the amazing attorney who so far has been the only one to beat Miles and her semi-mentor figure are the same person.

The Stolen Turnabout

With Miles out of the country, Kay (and maybe the boys klavier and sebastian too, I’m not sure) is dragged down to Lordly Tailor by Maya, and that’s where things go from there. She’s kind of surprised that it was the urn that got stolen, picking up pretty quickly that it wasn’t worth that much in the first place. (Though this might be due to her involvement in 2-2, so she knows that it has been broken before.)

Kay stands with Phoenix on the matter of whether or not Ron actually stole the urn. According to her, the guy “couldn’t even pickpocket a blind man”. Pearl kicks her in the shin before running out of the detention center. Maya and Kay have gotten pretty close to each other because of the events of Farewell, since they were kidnapped and that’s some strong bonding there. So, Maya’s hurt by both of them believing in Ron’s innocence, but with Kay’s involvement, she quickly starts to think that they might be right sooner rather than later. Still, since it hurts, Kay takes Maya’s place temporarily on the first day of investigating.

Things that happen here are Kay starting to steal stuff herself. For example, she swipes the blackmail letter on the first visit to the DeLite’s apartment. (”kay, we’re defense attorneys. we don’t steal.” “but you take evidence all the time. how is that not the same thing?” “...moving on--”.)

Kay can’t stand Atmey, especially when he starts rambling on the way he does. She both states that Gumshoe’s a better detective than he is (some of that being bias, but still) and calls him out when he claims that Miles has called Godot the best prosecutor in the country. Miles doesn’t even know who he is. Phoenix finds her interactions with him slightly hilarious (it’s a sixteen year old girl tearing an eccentric a-hole a new one, after all.)

Kay’s able to stand co-counsel for the entirety of this trial due to it taking place completely on a weekend. Which means she also gets to meet Godot. He’s... To her, he’s flat out weird. He’s Cyclops with a caffeine addiction. And he’s not able to avoid her snark either.

She gets really happy when they get the Not Guilty verdict on the first day, and her relationship with the Feys gets patched up, too. And then all that goes down the drain when Ron is arrested for murder. More investigation is needed.

When it’s revealed that Ron is actually Mask ☆ DeMasque, Kay feels kind of bad over the remark she made the day before since most of those thefts were kind of impressive to her after she read about them. That’s about as much as what happens during the investigation. She really gets into the whole phantom thief stuff, much to Phoenix’s dismay.

When it comes time for the trial, Kay feels so much satisfaction in catching Atmey. She hates him so much. She doesn’t, however, like the fact that Godot keeps throwing coffee at the defense team.

I should note that Kay thinks that Godot’s voice sounds familiar, but she can’t place why at this time. It’s been YEARS since the events of Beginnings, and they didn’t even interact. Kay just watched the trial and heard him speak. So, that whole mystery is still under wraps for now.

Recipe for the Turnabout

Kay, Klavier and Sebastian are at Wright & Co. when Gumshoe bursts through the door, scaring the crap out of the three of them and Maya in the process. She, much like Phoenix, is confused as heck as to what he’s talking about when he tells them about the phony trial. She can also vouch for what happened and the fake Phoenix. (I have plans for what happened there, i just need to watch/play the game there myself...) So everyone is confused, and this warrants some footwork.

Phoenix Wright ends up being followed by a group of teenagers during his investigation. This has been going on for a while. He’s accepted it. It’s part of his life now.

When it comes to Tres Bien, Maya’s not the only one who gets roped into working there. Through misunderstandings, Kay gets pulled in as well. The guys kind of just run off, leaving the girls in their unfortunate situation for now.

Phoenix is stuck with the boys for the time being, which leads to some pretty fun and interesting interactions, including their reactions to meeting Tigre for the first time. Sebastian’s just confused because Tigre is taller, older and the only thing about Phoenix that he shares is their hair style. Klavier verbally voices this, just going off on how the hell anyone could mistake the two. (and loses his shit at the cardboard badge. from a distance, yeah, but seriously?!)

When they eventually come back to the restaurant, being the stupid teenage boys that they are, Klavier and Sebastian find the situation Kay is in hilarious. Klavier takes a picture of Kay in the Tres Bien outfit because “everyone needs to see this”. (Everyone mostly being Ema, whose in Europe.) Kay tackles him to try and get him to delete the photo, but he doesn’t. It becomes Kay’s contact picture in his phone.

whether or not kay continues to work here after the case is still up in the air. her and miles’ financial situation is pretty good, but kay’s also the independent type, so i feel like she’d want to save her own money for things instead of having to ask for it.

It’s lucky that at this point the girls are saved from their forced jobs, and Phoenix brings them down to the park, where things go as they do in canon with Maya channeling Mia to get information out of Kudo. Phoenix just kind of pushes Kay behind him while Mia does her thing, because if Miles ever found out he let Kay do something like that, he would never forgive him. It does lead, however, to this interaction here:

“and what have we learned today?” “take what you got and exploit the men who think with their di--” “okay! let’s get back to the investigation, shall we?!” “...klavier, why are you looking down at your chest?” “huh? just thinking.”

listen, klavier doesn’t button up his shirt all the way for a reason, and this is why.

Kay gets a bit ticked off that the prosecutor is Godot again (something that the guys predict because she complained about her hair smelling like coffee for days after being in the splash zone of the last trial). Fortunately, she doesn’t have to be here since the trial primarily covers school days. However, the Themis Trio does help out with the investigation when they’re free, taking a look at Blue Screens while Phoenix and Maya handle Tres Bien. They regroup when its time to head to Tender Lender.

Things go pretty much the same from there until the end with the confrontation with Tigre at Tres Bien. There’s another change here since Tigre and Armstrong are outnumbered. Phoenix still gets punched, but its not Tigre who grabs the medical papers. It’s Sebastian in a moment of panic. This basically leads to them playing keep-away with the papers as they try to get out with them and get away from Tigre. It doesn’t work out, though, because eventually as the papers are returned to Phoenix and the gang goes to flee, Tigre grabs and pulls an off-guard Kay back. It’s an exchange -- the papers for the girl. (think that one situation in ablaze but without the threat of getting shot.)

But that’s not what happens because like in canon, Gumshoe comes to the rescue. And he is more pissed off than before because that’s his pseudo-niece. Phoenix and the kids run out of there as soon as they can. Later that night, Miles asks about the bruises on Kay’s arm from where Tigre had grabbed her. She’s not sure what to say.

Miles gets involved in the background of this case due to Kay’s injury, helping out Gumshoe when it comes to getting the bottle analyzed (and getting assault added to the list of crimes Tigre is charged with.) Both him and Kay are pleased when Tigre gets arrested.

Turnabout Beginnings

We already covered this case in Part 1. Kay was in the audience watching. Primarily, this is mostly skipped aside from Kay mentioning it to Phoenix very earlier on. I’m talking like... last part early during Reunion. Thinking about that while in the hospital sparks his interest in taking a look at it via Mia’s case files.

Bridge to the Turnabout

With Miles out of the country, Kay is free to kind of do whatever. Because she’s friends with Maya, Pearl drags her up to Hazakura, partially against Kay’s will because its cold and she hates the cold.

She faintly recognizes Iris because as said before, she sat in on Beginnings. She knows what Dahlia looks like. However, because it was so long ago for her, she doesn’t quite remember why. She does play into Larry’s whole artist thing, but refuses to call him Laurice. (”okay... good for you, larry.” “laurice!” “i’m not calling you that.”)

As for Elise, the most that Kay knows about her is that she’s an author. Though, unlike Maya, she does take note of how similar she looks to the painting of Misty, as well as Maya and Mia. (maya must’ve noticed some similarities herself, but why she didn’t say anything is a mystery to me.)

Kay’s starting to think that this trip might not be so bad... until everything goes to shit when she’s woken up by a scream. As a result, both she and Phoenix head out to the courtyard and discover Elise’s body. Unlike Phoenix, however, Kay has her phone on her. She’s not able to tell him this, though, because Phoenix is already running to the bridge. She gives chase, trying to catch up.

Things go on as normal. The bridge is on fire, they meet up with Larry. And Phoenix runs across the bridge. He falls. Kay screams.

Kay and Larry both find and pull Phoenix out of the river. Larry calls the police while Kay is trying to calm herself down and keep Phoenix from possibly dying. The only person she can think of to call is Miles. So yes, in this version of the story, Kay handles the phone call to Edgeworth, so things are a bit more well explained on that end. Not entirely, because Kay’s freaking the fuck out, but a bit better.

The police arrive, Iris is arrested and Phoenix is taken to the hospital with Kay riding in the ambulance as well (after some heavy persuasion.) She’s at the hospital all night, and is there when Miles arrives. He’s relieved that she’s alright, especially after the phone call he received from her last night. It’s pure luck that Phoenix survived the fall with minimal injury and a cold. Kay calls him stupid in at least seven different ways when they’re finally let into his room.

Kay is still freaked out over everything that happened the night before, so she sticks by her dad’s side. She’s there to straighten out Larry at the detention center and explain the magatama in a bit more detail than a fever-hazy Phoenix since she’s seen him use it multiple times before. Alon

Basically, Kay is the Maya to Miles’s Phoenix here. Miles doesn’t want her to be on the case with him, but she does so anyway. She claims it’s because she’s the defense attorney in training and she knows more about it than he does since she was there, too. During the investigation, Kay finds out about Pearl and Maya being on the other side of the bridge and gets worried as heck for their safety.

She’s also the one who handles getting Franziska to prosecute. Kay lies and says that Phoenix had a pretty big case on his hands that still needed a prosecutor, and Franziska took the bait. Needless to say, Fran’s a bit ticked off when she discovers the truth.

But the best part about this is father-daughter standing at the bench together. It is a lot of fun banter between them and Franziska, too. And Kay gets another Larry-Induced headache when he testifies on the stand. Though, due to what happened with Goodbyes, she trusts him to some extent and his trying to figure out what the heck actually happened.

When the trial gets out and Phoenix is back in the saddle, Kay calls him stupid again for investigating while sick. She works in tandem with both him and Miles for this part of the case. Yeah, she’s part of the investigation team.

She’s relieved when they finally find Pearl on the other side of the bridge (Kay gets a small hug from Pearls, have that visual.) She, like everyone else, is confused about why Godot is there. Unlike the others, however, Kay is incredibly close to fighting a man about twice her age when he starts going after Phoenix for his involvement in Mia’s death.

When the earthquake hits, the first thing Kay’s mind goes to is her dad. She races to find Miles first before anything else. She’s lived with him since she was ten years old. She knows about his fear of earthquakes.

After discovering the locks on the door, Kay does follow Miles out to the garden. He does get a hug from her, since she’s not sure what else to do at the time. Compared to last year, it shows that they’re doing a lot better. She’s also there when Phoenix comes by and manages to figure out the Hawthorne connection pretty quickly. She leaks the information to Phoenix, despite Miles’s protests. (”i’m not a prosecutor, so i don’t have to keep my mouth shut.”)

When it comes to the trial the next day, Kay’s in the gallery with everyone else since Phoenix claims that he has to do this alone (another thing that Kay calls him stupid for.) She’s on the edge of her seat the entire time -- watching as Phoenix unmasks and stands before the spirit of the woman who tried to kill him. And after exercising her from Maya’s body, Kay claims that she’s no longer phased by anything weird that happens in court.

Though, she is surprised when Phoenix accuses Godot of the crime. She doesn’t like the guy as much as the next person -- he’s a huge jerk -- but what? As the mystery begins to unravel, she starts to see how he got there, she’s kind of awestruck. She never expected Phoenix to come into his own like this. In the end, though, Godot confesses and things go pretty much the same way as they do in canon.

After all is said and done, Kay promises that she’ll become a defense attorney as great as both Mia Fey and the amazing Phoenix Wright. Phoenix will deny that this ever happened, but he did start to tear up a little upon hearing that. He becomes her mentor after the events of this case. It’ll become an important factor in Kay’s decisions later on that year... right around April.

And that’s it for the trilogy! There are some more parts that I want to add on, such as the ripples all this has created in the later games -- the investigation games especially.

#ace attorney #ace attorney au #dadworth au #kay faraday #phoenix wright #klavier gavin #sebastian debeste #maya fey #godot #diego armando #larry butz #miles edgeworth #franziska von karma #mia fey #furio tigre #luke atmey #ron delite #dahlia hawthorne #kay edgeworth au

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hello-everyfandom · 4 years

Text

“Can we please pretend I never said that?”

Warnings: Alcohol

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Reader

Words: 1.1k

Summary: You and Ron are tipsy at a party.

Prompt: Requested 185 “Neither one of us is drunk enough for this conversation.”

142 “Can we please pretend I never said that?”

(Fair warning, my loves, I’ve never fully written for Ron. But, here it is. I hope I captured some of his awkwardness!)

The Gryffindor common room was full of lively and extremely drunk teenagers. Bottles of Firewhiskey and Dragon Barrel Brandy that were bought by the older students were passed around carelessly. Your fellow housemates laughed and jumped to the charmed record player, and you were sure the paintings were going to fall and crash to the floor by the end of the night. You and Harry stood near the fireplace, Harry had brightened cheeks from the alcohol and a content look on his face.

“I reckon if McGonagall were to find out that her prestigious students were jumping on the couches, she’d have a heart attack,” you laughed, sipping on your cup. The fire whiskey felt unnaturally good and warmed your stomach.

“I think she’d end up murdering all of us,” Harry smiled. The two of you snorted and continued to joke at the drunk students around you. You watched as Harry became distracted watching Ginny sneak off from the party hand in hand with Dean Thomas. Sympathetically, you rubbed your arm and gave him a tender look,

“‘m sorry, Harry.”

Harry seemed to snap out of his gaze and looked back at you with a look that made you pity him, “For what?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“You know what,” you raised your eyebrows in Ginny’s direction.

“‘s fine,” he mumbled, “rather used to it by now.”

“Yes, well,” you took another sip and encouraged him to do the same, “at least you don’t have to see Ronald sucking face with Brown, they at least had the decency to move to an empty, sad, classroom.”

“You sound a little,” he teased, “jealous.”

“Jealous? Me?” you spit out a laugh and cross your arms, “unlikely.”

Harry gave you a knowing look, he was well aware of your feelings for his best friend and knew it was quite painful to see him and Lavender. “As if I’d be jealous of him, not that I am, jealous. ‘Sides, I bet he kisses with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.” you try to defend yourself but sadly admitting defeat to Harry’s eyes, “It doesn’t matter if I’m jealous anyway, feelings for him or not, he’s with Lavender.”

Harry laughed but quickly stopped after looking behind your shoulder, you turned to face Ron and became extremely red-faced. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the sudden embarrassment you were faced with, but you were surely flushed. Ron, surprisingly, laughed and came closer as Harry excused himself. You expected him to be annoyed or even angry at your making fun of his relationship, however, he relaxed against the fireplace.

“Ron, I-” you laughed, “Sorry, can we please pretend I never said that.”

“Which part?” Ron began, “the part where you think I kiss like an open-mouthed toad, or the part about your uh, feelings for me?”

“I never said you looked like a toad when you kiss!” You chortled and hoped the amount of alcohol in his body forgot the second part in which you confessed your feelings for him.

“You know, you could give it a whirl,” Ron suggested,

“Give what a whirl?”

“The ole snog master here,”

You spit out your drink and continued into laughter, “Ron, you’re not slick.”

“What!” He asked, “is it that bad to imagine?” he asked almost gloomily,

“Might I remind you, sir, that you have a girlfriend?” you pointed across the room to see Lavender staring at the pair of you with a sneer and angry eyes.

“Lavender and I? Nah,” Ron shrugged, “She ended it.”

Immediately, your spin stiffened and your heart began to race. You had a quaffle sized lump in your throat as you tried to swallow it down, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Ron stared at you. A beat of silence passed and then the two of you were in fits of laughter. You balanced yourself on his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.

“You may be a git, but you’re bloody funny when you’re tipsy Ron.” Ron smiled and shifted to smell your perfume. “But, I still won’t kiss you.” Ron’s smile dropped,

“Why?” you could smell the alcohol on his breath,

“Because, well- I, you know why.” You struggled to get the words out, just realizing how close you were to him, the boy you’ve been in love with since second year. The boy you’d take curse after curse for. “Why did you even split up anyways,”

“Something about not being ‘in the relationship’ while being ‘in the relationship’” he said with air quotes. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Oh yes, incredibly jealous, now I get to make a move on Lavender.” you rolled your eyes.

“Always with the sarcasm, you.”

“What can I say, you love me.” you quipped.

“Maybe I do.”

“Yeah right,” you scoffed.

“Blimey, Y/N, you drive me crazy.”

“I drive you crazy?” You asked incredulously.

“Yes! You, you’re too smart.”

“I wasn’t aware that was a problem,”

“And you, you wear that -uh- rose perfume,”

“Most people do, your point?”

“And you make me laugh and then my stomach hurts after, and even though you think I’m thick, you’ll still help me with muggle studies.”

“Ronald, what are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying,” he took a deep breath in, “I think you should kiss me,” he mumbled awkwardly,

You looked at Ron’s eyes, you couldn’t place the emotion within them, “I’m not interested in a quick shag,” you shrugged again making him groan.

“Will you just listen to me? Bloody hell, women are difficult. I fancy the hell out of you,”

You stared and then shook your head with a pathetic laugh escaping your lips, “Sod off Ron, you’re not tricking me. Good joke.”

“I do!” he said, taking your hand. “I’m not tricking you! And I want us, I think I want us to-”

“Don’t say ‘be together’ because you’ll end up regretting it in the morning.”

“Why would I regret that?”

Ron, neither one of us is drunk enough for this conversation.”

“I’ve never been more sober in my life. You’re absolutely mental sometimes, but I don’t want to be with Lavender Bloody Brown, I want to be with you.”

“Ron-” He silenced you, leaning in to kiss you. His lips were warm from the brandy he must’ve been drinking and the sheer adrenaline from finally telling the girl of his dreams that he fancies her. The crowd cheered after a second or two, watching you lean into the kiss farther. You gripped his collar whilst feeling his hand on your hips. You parted quickly and made accidental eye contact with a wide-eyed harry who mouthed “I knew it.” Ron was blushing purely from kissing you, and his dimples were beautifully showing.

“See, that was nothing like a toad, huh?”

“Ronald!” you scolded.

#Harry Potter imagines #ron Weasley imagines #Ron weasley #Harry potter #Ron weasley imagine #ron weasley oneshot #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot

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bwbatta · 3 years

Note

hermione x male!reader in which male is a slytherin and good friends with draco so the relationship is lowkey and male!reader puts draco in his place if he sees draco insulting hermione? 😟

Prejudiced

Abstract: Hermione and you are sneaking around together, but when pushed too far, you go public.

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Slytherin!Reader (GN)

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1217

A/N: Alright so I tweaked this slightly so the reader is GN as I don’t know if I’d do writing in a male perspective justice! Loved the plot though so hope you enjoy this! Divider by @firefly-graphics

“How long do you suppose we can keep this up?”

Hermione attempted to question you in between the feverish kisses the two of you shared in a broom closet.

“Well no one’s caught on yet so I’d say we’re doing an outstanding job. Imagine people finding out about Gryffindor’s golden girl with me, an evil Slytherin.”

Hermione shot you a Granger classic, unimpressed look.

“You’re not evil” she whispered confidently, “If I know anything, I know that much.”

The two of you had originally been fooling around since the tension between you snapped one day, and you both found yourselves in a similar position to the one you were now currently in.

After you both accepted you were indeed attracted to the other, your relationship was formed.

This however did not go to say that after you both accepted your feelings, you had no more problems whatsoever.

There was the issue early on when Hermione felt like you were just playing around with her and didn’t want anything other than a shag. This led to the great closet makeout session when you made it clear that being a Slytherin and fooling around with the Gryffindor’s golden girl is not something you’d do lightly, both your reputations on the line.

Besides, if you wanted an easy shag, there were so many other options than to go for instead of, considerably, the most unobtainable girl possible.

“Okay, but what if someone does find out?”

Her lip caught between her teeth as she bit down slightly in stress.

“Then let them” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’m fussed if people find out about us, I’m happy to tell everyone tomorrow but we haven’t gone public because you were worried about the backlash.”

“I just don’t think we’d get a very welcome response to us if we told people. Especially from Malfoy.”

You couldn’t help the fond smile which fell on your lips.

“You’re worried about Draco?”

“I know he’s your best friend, but we both know he can’t stand me.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“I know it’s not but he’ll still make a big deal about it when he finds out.”

You started smiling at her choice of words. She noticed.

“What?” Her expression skeptical.

“You said when he finds out.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing you away from her slightly.

“I meant if”

“See, I don’t think you did”

Hermione tried to look annoyed, but the exited look on your face at the possibility that you two might be able to go public, gave you a kind of golden retriever look, one impossible to disappoint.

“I’ll consider it” she finally said begrudgingly with a smile as she played with your green tie.

“I’ll take it” you grinned leaning forward to draw your lips together again.

You both soon realised however, keeping your secret may be harder than it seemed and actually telling people about your relationship was becoming a higher and higher possibility.

Lying to Harry and Ron for Hermione was easy.

Anytime she would leave to meet up with you, she would just say she was going to the library or to go study elsewhere. The boys would come up with every excuse in the book to get out of that. Yet, the only thing she really would be studying was you and your lips.

Lying to Draco however, was becoming much harder for you as you couldn’t use the same excuses.

He had started to pick up the fact that you disappeared randomly, at different times of the day. You knew it wasn’t long before he cornered you and asked what the hell was going on.

It all came to a head soon enough though when your best friend stepped too far.

“Ahh look it’s the little mudblood.”

Hermione shot Draco a sharp look as she slammed her textbook shut causing it to echo through the potions room.

“Piss off, Malfoy.”

“How dare you,” Draco sneered at her, “you think you’re so high and mighty, like you’re worthy to be in my presence.”

“Draco,” you bit out, wanting to do anything to shut him up. “Cut it out.”

“What?” He rounded on you with a frown. “You’ve never had a problem with me going after Granger before?”

“Well I do now, just, get over yourself.”

You let your eyes catch on Hermione’s gaze as she looked hesitant, anxiety clear in her expression. The witch could tell you were trying to hold back and could feel her resolve disintegrating, Draco however, looked quite the opposite.

“What?” He looked confused and frustrated at the fact his best friend was now standing against him. “Get over mysel- what’s up with you?! You think she’s worth anything more than what’s on the bottom of my shoe-“

“I do, actually. She’s a brilliant witch who could probably outwit you any day, Hermione is-“

“Wait? Hermione?! Since when did you start calling the mudblood by her name?!”

“Since she’s my girlfriend.”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“What?! Hermione?” Ron questioned

“I’m sorry, what?!” Draco seethed as he looked at you, his eyes narrowed.

“I said, she’s my girlfriend. We’re in a relationship. Merlin, you might be stupider than you let on if you don’t understand what that means.”

Draco blanched, his mouth moving as if to say something but no words came out.

“Hermione?” Harry looked concerned as if she had somehow been forced into this. “Is it true?”

The Granger’s eyes flicked from her best friends to you, before switching back to rest on the chosen one.

“It’s true,” she almost whispered, “Y/N and I are together.”

“What?! Are you kidding me?! They’re a Slytherin! They’re evil-“

“Y/N is not evil because they’re a Slytherin, Ronald!” The witch fumed. “How can they attempt to make you think any differently when all you do is see the entire house as snakes. You say they’re the ones who don’t give anyone a chance but you’re the real hypocrite here.”

She turned her attention away from the ginger and towards you. Seeing the large grin on your face at how Gryffindor’s golden girl had just defended you in front of her best friends, obviously made you smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes at your expression.

“Oh shut up. I told you you weren’t evil.”

“I know, I just love hearing you shout it for everyone to hear.”

She narrowed her eyes at you.

“Y/N...”

You turned at the sound of your name to face your best friend. His blonde hair was unkempt after he had ran his hands through it in disbelief, and his expression was a lost one as he tried to process what was happening before him.

Holding your hand out to your girl, Hermione took it with a smile, stepping closer to you.

“I don’t understand.”

“It wasn’t your fault you were raised to be prejudiced, Draco, just... don’t expect all your friends around you to think exactly the same as you have been taught to.”

Deciding to deal with him a moment later, you turned your attention back to the girl who’s hand had clasped yours strongly. Pushing a curl behind her ear, you couldn’t help but smile at the almost content expression on her face.

“Told you I didn’t care if they found out.”

“Shut up.”

HP Taglist: (If you’re bold I can’t tag you sorry!)

@ochrythum @hahee154hq @loonyslytherin @fleur-tysworld @la3divine @fiantomartell

Permanent Taglist:

@whatthefuckimbisexual

#harry potter #harry potter headcanon #harry potter x reader #harry potter series #draco malfoy x reader #hermione granger x reader #ron weasley x reader #hermione granger #hermione granger imagine #hermione granger headcanon #hermione

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harrysweasleys · 4 years

Text

The Name of the Game

Request: Would you do a George Weasley imagine where at a party he gets jealous when his crush who’s Golden Trio’s Slytherin friend has to kiss Draco Malfoy during a game of spin the bottle but it turns into anger when he finds out that Draco charmed the game to get her, even though the reader can’t stand Draco?

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: i had a lot of fun writing this! requests are open and gif isn’t mine! x

George Weasley was a lot of things. He was confident, he was brave, he was bold, he was a troublemaker, and he was smitten.

When George first saw you, donned in your usual emerald Slytherin gown, he noticed how your H/C hair fell in lose strands around your face, how the shimmer in your eye as you giggled with your friend seemed to draw him in, and how your dazzling smile took his breath away.

But, naturally, due to his pride and the fact that you were indeed a Slytherin, he forced himself to completely push you out of his mind. It was hard, you did end up having a few classes together — which made George wonder how he’d never noticed you before.

And so he tried to ignore how you looked in the light of the setting sun in the Great Hall during dinner, or how pleased you looked when receiving your grades in different classes, or how you hid your laughter behind your hand when George and his twin pulled off another successful prank that no doubt also ended with a pissed off Filch.

But all that ignoring became quite difficult when you became friends with Harry and Hermione, eventually ending with you befriending Ron as well. You’d hang out with them in the library, come to talk to them at their table in the Great Hall, and you even cheered on Gryffindor when they were playing Quidditch — when Slytherin wasn’t their rival, of course.

“She’s different from other Slytherins,” Hermione defended you when fellow Gryffindors would talk about how befriending a Slytherin was a betrayal of house pride.

So, all in all, George found it hard to keep you off his mind. Not that he minded, really. He found you the prettiest person he’d ever seen. But at the same time, he had never actually spoken a single word to you. Fred had absolutely adored teasing him about it, but all in all, George was determined to make himself known to you.

So, one day, as you were standing over Hermione at lunch time in the Great Hall, the two of you deep in conversation about the Arithmancy assignment you had been given, Fred whacked George over the shoulder with a smirk.

“Oi, it’s your secret girlfriend,” Fred nodded his head in your direction, causing George to roll his eyes and smack his twin right back.

“Shut your face, you git,” he spat back, trying to hide the flush on his cheeks as the two made their way over to the empty seats between Ron and Ginny.

As George took his seat, he looked up at you and flashed you a kind smile, which you retaliated. His heart lept and he had to look down at his breakfast plate to keep himself from grinning at you like a fool.

“Mornin’ Y/N!” Fred grinned at you, elbowing his brother harshly in the ribs.

“Oh — hi,” you smiled back shyly, “Good morning, I mean.”

Fred squinted his eyes at George, who was glaring at him to the point where he could feel his eyes burning into his own. But, George remained silent, picking at the breakfast sausage that was on his plate with a sulky expression.

“Y/L/N, fraternizing with the enemy again?” you jumped back at the sound of Malfoy’s voice, and George took immediate notice of how tense your body became. Clearly some Slytherins weren’t fond of Malfoy either.

“Just because they’re your enemies, doesn’t make them mine, Malfoy,” you replied cooly, crossing your arms and turning to face him with your nose held high, “If you had no other intention than to come here and tell me off, I would much rather you save your voice.”

George’s eyebrows shot up as he watched you stand up to Malfoy, who they had all tried their absolute best to avoid in all their years of schooling.

Malfoy didn’t respond, but he shot a glare at Harry and Ron before stalking off to the Slytherin table.

“Anyways,” you returned to your conversation with a softer voice, “I’ll see you later in class.”

Hermione bid you a good day and returned to her food, before you came rushing back over with a frantic expression, “Oh — almost forget, we’re hosting a party in the Slytherin common room tonight. One of my fellow Slytherins, Blaise Zabini, he’s just been arranged a marriage so we’re celebrating. He’s pretty happy about it. And I don’t think he has a problem with you all so you’re welcome to come.”

Your eyes flickered to George before looking across to the rest of the gang, hoping they’d accompany you to a party you didn’t feel like going to.

George felt his heart flip. This could be a chance to talk to you. He nudged Fred in the knee, and his twin flashed a wicked grin.

“Course we’ll be there,” Fred smiled at you, “Georgie and I never miss a party.” Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny all agreed to accompany you as well.

You grinned, your eyes twinkling, “Perfect. I’ve heard you two boys know how to liven a party.”

And with a quick wink in the direction of the twins, you walked gracefully back to the table of your house.

“If you don’t chat her up tonight, I’m going to be disappointed, mate,” Fred shook his head, shoving a piece of toast in his mouth as George shot him a look. It was rare he was speechless, but he found himself struggling to find anything to say in the moment, the butterflies fluttering violently in his stomach as he thought of the events that might unfold.

— —

The Slytherin common room was more packed than you had ever seen it. There were people from loads of different houses, each wearing casual clothing and making them all indistinguishable. The fireplace was roaring and the windows were open, letting a fresh breeze roll through to manage the temperature.

As Hermione led the way in, followed closely by Harry and the Weasleys, they were immediately overwhelmed by the sound of music and the heat of so many bodies.

George wore a casual long sleeved shirt with a little logo on the right chest pocket, and what he called ‘his best pants’ — which were really just a pair of old black jeans. As soon as he stepped in the room, he thanked his genetics for making him so tall as he could easily crane his neck around the room in search for your familiar Y/C/H hair.

And he spotted you almost immediately.

“Oh! It’s Luna! She never goes to these things — I’m going to say hi,” Hermione pushed her way through the crowd and disappeared. Ron followed after her, and Fred made his way towards the snack table where he aimed to hide a few Skiving Snackbox treats. George, however, was glaring down the Slytherin boy you were currently speaking to.

He had his hand on the wall near your head, his face way too close to yours for George’s liking. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling stupidly jealous, it’s not like he’s ever even spoken to you.

“Just go, mate,” Fred gave George a shove and sent him tumbling into the crowd, muttering apologies for bumping into a group of Hufflepuffs by the fireplace. He made his way straight towards you, his heart pounding loudly, and stopped as soon as your eyes locked on his.

“Oh — hi, George,” you smiled up at him, turning your attention away from the dark haired Slytherin boy who stalked off now that he has lost your attention, “You came!”

“Of course,” George grinned despite the nervous flutters in his heart, “It’s a lot busier than I expected, to be quite honest.”

You giggled, looking around the room with a curt nod, “It always turns out crazier than expected. Zabini really wanted to go all out, says it’s like his — what do muggles call it — Bachelor party.”

George raised his eyebrows and moved closer to you and out of the way of the crowd so people could walk by without stepping on his feet, “Does he even know half of these people?”

“Doubt it,” you replied, lifting your hand to push your hair out of your face, “And neither does the bride. In fact, she doesn’t even go here. She’s from Paris.”

George nodded, not sure what to say. He didn’t even know Zabini, so the wedding information didn’t mean much to him.

“I noticed Fred spiking the snacks,” you smirked up at George after a moment of silence, “Knew you guys would make this interesting.”

He felt his cheeks turning pink, but brushed it off with a confident grin, “If you knew that, why’d you never invite us before?”

He felt a surge of pride as a blush rose to your cheeks, and you let your hair fall back over your face to hide it, “Can I be honest? You guys are a little intimidating.”

George’s eyes widened, “Are we now?”

He was quite pleased you had paid enough attention to him to even be intimidated. Not that that’s how he wanted you to feel, but it was better than nothing.

“Yes!” you chuckled, swatting at his arm to rid him of his proud smirk, “I never know when you two are lurking about a corner, ready to drench someone or give them a nosebleed nougat.”

“You even know the names,” George’s smirk widened, “Nicely done. But don’t worry, stay on our good side and you won’t have to suffer.”

You laughed, tossing your head back, and George thought it was the prettiest sound in the entire world. He would listen to you laugh all day if given the chance.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“HEY! GAME TIME!” Goyle stood up on a table, waving his hands to get everyone’s attention. George, wanting to hex him for ending his conversation with you, turned to face him with a scowl.

“Oh, boy, this always happens,” you groaned, “They pick some lame teen game to play and someone always ends up either hurt or heart broken,” George nodded at your words, “It’s usually Parkinson. She’s in love with Malfoy, you see.”

“Wait — hold up,” George whispered back to you with a shocked tone in his voice, “There’s a person out there who loves that git?”

You covered your mouth to hide your giggle, “Apparently. Didn’t think it was possible.”

George shook his head, a bewildered expression on his face, and turned back to face Goyle, who had now silenced the room with his cry for attention.

“The man of the hour, Zabini, has chosen spin the bottle!” he announced, a creepy grin on his overly round head. George could feel you sulk from next to him, you head hitting the wall with a disappointed thump.

“Again?” you groaned, “We played this last time.”

Before George could respond, a familiar head of platinum hair pushed through the crowd and appeared in front of you, “Spin the bottle, huh? Always a good game if you want to impress someone.”

George had no idea what Malfoy was trying to get at, but by the look on your face, he had probably tried this before.

“Or a bad one if you want to get away from someone,” you quipped back, squinting your eyes.

George could feel the strange tention between you two, and he had a strong feeling that Malfoy’s likeness towards you was one sided.

“Right — you left last game,” Malfoy nodded his head, “Right after Crabbe spun it and it landed on you.”

George coughed to cover his laugh. He could only imagine how furious Crabbe was to be rejected publicly like that.

“Well, give Crabbe my apologies. I didn’t feel like kissing a slug,” you gave Malfoy a sarcastic smile and grabbed George’s hand, pulling him over to the circle and away from the blond, “Sorry about him. Do you want to join?”

George could help but think about what it would be like if he played and got to kiss you. He had been wanting to make a move for quite some time, and sure, this wasn’t the best way to have a first kiss, but he couldn’t think straight right now. Your hand was intertwined in his and you were looking up at him with such a gentle smile, he couldn’t help but give in.

“Sure.”

So the two of you took your places around the circle, sitting next to each other. Only about twenty people had decided to play, Fred and Ron were seated across George, and Hermione and Harry were watching with judgemental eyes from the other side of the room.

“Zabini, since it’s your party, you go first,” a Slytherin girl spoke up, twirling a strand of blonde hair around her finger and batting her eyelashes.

Zabini grinned, spinning the bottle quickly. It landed on Alicia Spinnet, a girl on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, who shrugged her shoulders and leaned over, meeting Zabini’s lips with her own. Wolf whistles made their way across the group and both of them looked slightly flushed when pulling away.

George could feel how tense you were, and had to admit even he felt slightly out of place himself.

Alicia spun it next, and ended up kissing Theo Nott from Slytherin, who ended up kissing Pansy Parkinson.

Eventually, Zabini spoke up and requested that Malfoy — who he called his best friend ever — got a turn. As he leaned forward to reach the bottle, George tried to ignore the bubbling jealousy as Malfoy shot a wink your way, his eyes lingering on you.

And sure enough, after Malfoy spun the bottle, it landed on you.

George felt his blood boil, and he could see the uncomfortable expression on your face without even looking at you.

“Great,” you muttered, pulling your sleeves down and hiding your hands, a nervous habit George had noticed you do in class.

“You don’t have to kiss him,” he whispered to you, hoping to ease your consious.

“That’s the point of the game, isn’t it?” you asked grimly, leaning forwards to the eager Malfoy. You pressed your lips to his quickly, pulling away before either of you could register the kiss happened. George looked away, his heart skipping beats and his hands becoming clammy.

This was torture.

Malfoy pulled away and sat back down, smirking proudly. While you, on the other hand, were back to hiding behind your hair.

“Your turn to spin, Y/N,” Zabini slurred, “Get it!”

You leaned forwards, spinning the bottle quickly to get it away from you. But, to both you and George’s horror, the bottle landed on Malfoy.

“Little git,” George sneered, hating this game with every ounce of his being.

George turned away as you once more, leaned towards the middle of the circle and quickly put your lips on Malfoy’s before pulling away hastily, wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

“This is gross,” you mumbled, feeling disgusted with yourself. George’s jaw was clenched as he glared at Malfoy, who was boasting about his two kisses with you.

“Spiiiin, Draco!” Zabini cheered once more. And as Malfoy leaned to spin, George’s eye caught sight of his lips moving.

The bastard is jinxing the bottle.

“Oi, Malfoy,” George caught himself speaking up and gaining the attention of everyone in the room, “You’re jinxing it.”

Malfoy glared at him, eyes dark, “Am not.”

George stood up before he could stop himself, “I saw you.” Your eyes were darting back and forth, wondering how George knew Malfoy had jinxed the bottle.

“Did not,” Malfoy crossed his arms, “Maybe the universe just knows Y/L/N wants me.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed before George could intervene again, “That’s never going to happen. I’ve never wanted you and never will. Now, did you jinx the bottle?”

George was too focused glaring at Malfoy to notice you had been standing up next to him, arms crossed and staring down at the blond.

“Fine — fine,” Malfoy raised his hands in mock surrender, “So what? It’s just a game.”

The entire circle had now gone silent. Your fists were clenched by your sides and your cheeks were tinted red in anger. George had never seen you this angry before, but he didn’t blame you. He was furious as well.

“You — oh, you’re so insufferable!” you shouted, causing a few people sitting near you to jump, George included, “You walk with your head held high thinking everyone wants you, or wants to be like you. You’re — I can’t — just stay away from me.”

George had to admit, you had balls for standing up to Malfoy. With a furious glare, you grabbed George’s hand and stomped out of the circle and out of the entrance to the common room.

He could feel his heart pounding. Whether it was from proximity to you or because of the events that just unfolded, he wasn’t sure, but this was not at all how he invisioned this night going. He thought he’d get the chance to talk to you one on one, maybe even get the courage to ask you out, but his desires now felt selfish as he watched you lean against the wall and slide down, your hands clutched in your hair.

“Sorry you had to see that,” you mumbled softly, looking up at George who had been standing there like a fool.

“No, don’t apologize,” he walked over and sat next to you, bringing his knees to his chest, “That was horrible. I’m sorry he did that to you.”

“He’s always been like that,” you shrugged, “We’ve known each other since we were kids. Our dads were friends at Hogwarts. I know, right? Who’d want to be friends with Lucius?”

George found himself chuckling, and with a small jolt of bravery, placed his hand on your knee. Relief spread through his body when you didn’t pull away.

“So my entire childhood revolved around having a close bond with Malfoy. Even though he’s younger than me, and started Hogwarts after me, our parents wanted us to stick together,” you sighed, learning your head against the wall, “It wouldn’t be so bad if he weren’t an obnoxious little brat. But then, in his third year, he started making weird advances and I kept turning him down, I guess to him that was just fuel to the fire.”

“He’s really the opposite of having the whole package, isn’t he?” George smiled, “Well, at least you turned out better. And I’m sorry you have to deal with him so often.”

You smiled up at him and his heart fluttered again, “Thanks, George.”

You sat in silence for a while — although George swore his heartbeat was loud enough to echo through the dark dungeon hallway — but it was comfortable. Nice, even. George’s hand was warm against your knee and you didn’t want him to pull it away.

“Thanks. For sticking up for me, I mean. You didn’t have to. And sorry for dragging you out with me. I just didn’t want to be alone, I guess.”

You met his gaze, and it was like you had never seen him properly before. His freckled cheeks were a tad rosier, and his brown eyes were so warm and welcoming, your heart did a summersault just by looking into them.

“Don’t apologize. I wanted to be with you,” he spoke softly, looking down at you before his eyes widened, “I—I mean, you know, you’re good company.

“Smooth save,” you smirked, noticing for the first time how close his face was to yours. He smelled like cinnamon and... was it chocolate? You weren’t sure. But he smelled good.

George, looking down into your eyes as well, picked up on the faint peachy smell of your perfume and the way your hair framed your face perfectly, capturing your face like a photograph.

In the moment, it felt as if you two were alone in the entire school. No dark, murky hallways, no looming school assignments, no party going on on the other side of the Slytherin common room entrance. Just you two.

“I like you,” George sputtered out, blinking rapidly as if he hadn’t planned on saying it, “I wanted to be cool about it but I kind of failed.” And it was true, he hasn’t planned on saying it. But as he looked down at you, he couldn’t help but feel his heart swell, and he knew he’d be hitting himself over the head if he didn’t sieze the chance right now.

You, on the other hand, felt your breath leave your body as tingles made their way up your spin. He liked you. George Weasley liked you. It felt surreal.

You had noticed how cute he was before, even finding him one of the most charming guys in school, but you didn’t think he’d think of you as anything more than ‘Hermione’s Slytherin friend.’

“I thought you were cool,” you giggled, leaning closer to him, “You’re always pretty cool.”

And before any of you said another word, his lips were on yours. He was much gentler than you thought he would be — he always seemed to have such a loud presence. But his lips were soft, moulding against your own as if they were meant to be.

His hand left your knee and found it’s way to the back of your head, pulling you even closer as your lips remained connected.

George was over the moon. He had thought about what it would be like to feel your lips moving against his, to have your hands tangled in his hair, your body pressed against his. But nothing could have prepared him for the actual thing.

His heart was hammering violently against his chest and he swore every inch of his body was on fire, burning. The only thing grounding him to reality was the pinch of your hands in his hair, the soft touch of your lips on his own, and the intoxicating smell of your fruity perfume.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you to catch his breath, thinking that that was probably the best kiss anyone’s ever had.

“Well,” he breathed out, “this party did end up going better than I though.”

#george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley one shot #george weasley one shots #george weasley fic #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert

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gryffindors-weasley · 3 years

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Enamored

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: The day Ron tells you he loves you.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: loss of a home, Fred is alive, mild angst, fluff, requited love, kissing

A/N: This fic is inspired by Pretty Boy by The Neighbourhood!

The last traces of summer had rapidly faded as the season changed to autumn, the once warm weather now chilled and brisk. It had been a whirlwind of a year thus far, one that was exceedingly more undesirable than most with the war having transpired. It brought with it a myriad of losses and misfortune for all that had been involved to fight against the Dark Lord.

The most noticeable loss for the Weasley family was the destruction of their family home. It was near ash and ruins but a few months ago, devastating and left in tatters as it no longer stood tall lopsidedly wonderful. While it was life altering and an act of complete and utter cruelty, they remained grateful that each and every member of their tight knit family remained alive and well. That’s what always mattered most to them, what will always matter.

Now that fall has rolled around after three months of hard work and effort put in from you and the beloved family, the Burrow was officially rebuilt. It didn’t house the same memories as it once had, it couldn’t have, but it stood tall and beautifully imperfect once more. It was a home that could only possibly be held up by magic otherwise it just might topple over with the number of floors it had. The pots and pans had scrubbed themselves once more, the chimney puffed out smoke yet again, the home was now bustling with a familiar boisterous energy once again in a way only they could manage to create.

Spending that time with them was time you were grateful to have, though you found yourself to be with Ron more so than anyone else. No matter what the instance may have been, you always seem to seek each other out as if it were a subconscious act. It was a wordless fact seemingly known to just about everyone but the very two people who’d been doing it, but that didn’t come as a surprise to anyone at all.

It’d been three years in the making of watching their lovestruck brother and equally lovestruck best friend pine for each other, of watching you both be so oblivious it was almost painful. Three years of catching him gaze at you with the softest of smiles when you weren’t looking, one so adoring Molly nearly cries every time, and of you doing just the same when his attentions were focused elsewhere. Three years of watching you two brush hands when you walk side by side followed by the promise of blushing cheeks when you realized the electrifying encounter. It had been frustrating years in the making of watching two people they loved so dearly be so blissfully unaware of just how in love they truly were with each other.

They were ready to take matters into their own hands and make it known themselves.

Currently, Mrs. Weasley has assigned both you and Ron the task of stopping by the bakery in town. She’d wanted an assortment of pastries as a part of a way to celebrate the finishing of their new home. She had made more than enough of her own in her newly remodeled kitchen of course, but she had her mind set on blueberry muffins and chocolate chip cookies made from none other than Hazel’s Bakery.

She most certainly did not send the two of you in particular in an effort to get you to spend some alone time. No, definitely not.

“Are you warm enough?” Ron asks as you leave through the front door, stepping out into the brisk weather.

You nod, cheeks staining a soft pink at the gentle caring he had for you, the question falling from his lips like it’d been second nature. Caring for you, being protective of you, it was second nature by that point. He doesn’t believe he could help it even if he tried, but he doesn’t want to. Despite the fluttering of your heart you couldn’t help your teasing smile. “Yes. But I suppose it’d be far warmer if we drove there.”

He caught onto your teasing and rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth nonetheless. “Are you ever going to stop teasing me for that, Y/n/n?”

You pretend to give his question some serious thought, puckering your lips as you squint your gaze and tap your finger against your cheek. His laughter broke you from your actions. “No, I don’t think I will, Ronnie.”

Your own laughter was immediate at the scrunch of his nose upon hearing the nickname he loathed so much, more so at the playful narrowing of his blue stare. Maybe he didn’t hate it when it fell from your lips. However, you quickly appeased his obvious displeasure of the name as you brushed the pad of your thumb over his chin, his blushing smile soon to return as he looked at his feet to steady his racing heart. He knew his cheeks had to have matched the leaves on the trees by now. They always had been when in your presence.

You shook your head with a smile as you focused your attention on anywhere but him to avoid worsening the heat in your cheeks. Rather, you focused on the graying of the sky and the way the grass rippled beneath the wind. You listened to the leaves crunching under both your footfalls and the sound they made as the breeze washed over them. For lack of a better word, this time of year had been the most magical, and it seemed as though Ron fit right in with the hues of his hair and equally his attire. Equally his flushed cheeks.

A single wildflower had caught your stare, standing tall amongst the fading green grass. You slowed your stride to bend down and pluck it from the ground, turning to look at Ron who’d now stood paces from you with a curious brow raised.

“What is it?”

You held up the yellow flower, the stem pinched between your fingers as you beamed. In a matter of seconds you ran to him the short distance he was from you, his smile now apparent.

“What are you doing?” He asks with a laugh, one to stave off the way his breath hitched as you leaned up to tuck it within the red hair just above his ear.

It appeared golden amongst the rosy ginger shade and he smiled down at you fondly for a brief moment before shaking his head, not making a move to take it out. You smiled up at him, biting the inside of your cheek to hide just how giddy he’d made you feel in that very moment. You suppose there wasn’t even a reason to feel as such, but that hadn’t mattered; the feeling occurred whenever it so pleased, and it was more often than not it seemed.

You reached the end of the long driveway and took his hand without a second thought, sharing a smile before apparating from the property.

In mere dizzying seconds you had appeared in the ever familiar and unfrequented alleyway, taking a moment to adjust before stepping into foot traffic along with everyone else in the town. It wasn’t as busy as some days it could be, but regardless it was always a fun trip to walk about, it was cozy.

Almost in the very same moment did the two of you realize you’d still been holding hands, releasing the other as you looked your separate ways for just a second. He’d wanted to reach out and hold it once more, to interlock his fingers with yours. He hadn’t really wanted to let go. You risked a glance and he risked his and it wasn’t hard to tell when Ron Weasley has been fighting a smile. Perhaps what was more obvious was the little yellow flower that somehow still remained in his hair. You decided then and there not to mention it.

The denim of your jacket proved to be far less warm than you had thought it to be, or maybe it’d just gotten colder. Either way, as you walked down that sidewalk, you weren’t ready to let Ron know he’d been right in telling you to wear something heavier before you left the house. He always seemed to be right about those kinds of things.

Ron grabbed your wrist to keep you from walking past the bakery, his grin teasing as he held open the green painted door. You were far too distracted by him for your own good.

The smell of coffee and sweets had been instant upon entering, a little bell overhead signaling your entrance into the small yet cozy shop. The showcase had been filled with fresh pastries and baked goods, the line not yet as lengthy it surely would be now that Hazel had switched the sign to ‘open’.

The kind older woman had greeted you as warmly as she did each and every time she’d seen you, making a point to pinch Ron’s cheeks much like his own mother had.

“Hazel! We’ve talked about this,” Ron whines, rubbing his newly reddened cheeks.

“Oh hush, my dear boy,” she says, turning to you. “How do you put up with him?”

You laugh at that, shrugging your shoulders. “I must admit, it is but a wonder indeed, Hazel.”

You look to Ron who’d furrowed his brows at you, lips pursed in faux offense as you smile beamingly up at him. One that dissolved any look to displeasure. One that caused the woman behind the counter to nearly gush about what a wonderful couple you’d be, something that was also very much like his mother.

You placed your order and asked for extra, knowing if you hadn’t that surely Ron would have eaten far too many for Molly not to notice. Though you knew for a fact she’d be able to tell either way. She talked you into staying for just a little bit longer, the promise of hot cocoa far too enticing to turn down as you still felt the shivering effects of the chilly fall weather.

—

“You really thought I’d eat three muffins?” Ron scoffs, mouth full as a few crumbs fall past his lips.

You roll your eyes and shake your head as you walk down the cracked sidewalk, the steaming paper bag clutched in your hand. “You’ve eaten two already.”

“Did I?” He asks, brows furrowed as he halts momentarily to recall it. The genuine shock and confusion painted on his expression had you laughing as you grabbed his hand, tugging him along the walkway before any more passers by all but run into you with looks of annoyance.

“Yes, you did,” you giggle, releasing his hand to link your arm with his once more.

“Well, they’re really good,” he defends as you continue walking. “Really good.”

You look up at him then, a soft smile on your lips as you do so. His cheeks were stained a soft pink from the chilly weather, accentuating the freckles dancing across them and the very bridge of his nose. At the curve of his smile and the dimples that formed when he did just that. Or perhaps it was the near unruly ginger hair that dipped over his forehead and covered his ears; he had yet to get a haircut much to his mother’s dismay. He was starting to resemble his fourth year self, a hair length he’d claimed he hated so very much but you were beginning to think otherwise.

“Are you staring?” He asks a short while later, a more than knowing grin on his lips that sent your stomach into a fit of butterflies and knots.

“You’ve got food on your face, how could I not?” You counter, though the scarlet in your cheeks is far too obvious. It was true, there were crumbs in the corner of his mouth that needed to be swept away, but you were not ready in the slightest to admit your admiring. “Plus you’ve still got that flower in your hair.”

His hand is quick to fly up and pluck it out, looking at the delicate little thing as his cheeks burned once more. So that was what Hazel was talking about. He smiles then with a soft laugh, stopping your stride once more to tuck it behind your ear.

“There, looks much better on you,” he mumbles, smile soft and adoring, one that lingered long after he’d looked away.

“I beg to differ.”

You’d noticed just how gloomy the sky had been, clouds puffy and gray as the breeze intensified just the slightest bit. It wasn’t something you minded, for it was rather scenic amongst the rapidly dwindling buildings the closer you got to the Burrow. You both had decided a walk back would be best given the bag of sweets you now have, not to mention the hot chocolates you each had provided just enough warmth for you to do so.

A sigh left your lips, one of contentment as you walked back in a comfortable silence and you rest your head on his shoulder. Your arm still hooked with his as he slowed his pace for you to keep up with him, and he’d since taken the bag from your hand so you wouldn’t have to carry it. It was the little things that you noticed that others might not; the little things that meant the most to you, that made your heart flutter. Like the way he will always wait for you when something catches your eye in a shop, not an ounce of impatience in him like he may have had with his siblings. Or how he’d save a plate of breakfast for you when you stay at his home because you’d woken up later than his brothers. It left your heart full.

He hadn’t been aware that you’d noticed those kinds of things; he finds he isn’t even aware of it sometimes. Living you had become second nature at this point, it was expressed in nearly everything he did. You were woven into his very heart and hadn’t even known as such. He doesn’t know how he made it quite this far without going absolutely mad, without his heart bursting in his chest every time you look at him the way you do. Every time you smile at him the way you do. It was his hopes that you’d reserved those kinds of looks, those kinds of smiles for just him. It had been his hope that somehow, someway, you had felt the same way.

He knew with all the certainty in the world that he needed to tell you. He doesn’t think he can go another day without telling you as such. He knows he can’t; he loved you from afar for nearly four years. If you don’t feel the same, if it’s all over after his confession, he can take this moment with him. Of your head on his shoulder, of the way you held his hand that day, of the way you looked at him. It needed to be spoken no matter how much it made his hands shake. He almost lost you in that war and he decided he couldn’t risk not telling you.

You reached the familiar stretch of trees lining the vacant road, the breeze having intensified more noticeably. The walk had been quiet save for the chirping of the birds and the crinkle if the bag Ron held, or the crunch of leaves and gravel under your feet. You couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend your afternoon, especially with the knowledge of the warm meal Molly had been preparing for dinner that night. The whole Weasley family would be there, Harry would be there, Hermione would be there. It was plans that made your stomach flip with excitement.

It wasn’t until then, at the very opening of the near dauntingly long dirt driveway that the rain had started to drizzle steadily. You suppose you expected it at that point, with the puffy gray clouds that rapidly blew over any and all sunlight, it had become more than evident that that would be the case.

You gasped upon the weathers sudden change in plans regardless, the icy downpour taking you by surprise. A jovial laugh soon sounded from your lips as you threw your hands up, looking around as it came down and rolled off the tri-colored leaves. They too fluttered down in a flurry of reds and oranges, and you were certain you’d never seen something quite so beautiful, quite so enchanting.

Spotting a nearby shelter beneath the branches of one of the large trees, you grabbed Ron’s hand, ready to pull him along with you though you quickly noticed he hasn’t budged any more than just a few steps. You turned to him then, rather confused in that moment and the more you stood exposed to the sudden storm the less useful it became to seek shelter from it. None of it seemed to matter as he stood there and gazed at you, ginger hair darkened a few shades as it stuck to his forehead and flushed cheeks. The smile on his face was quite possibly the softest you’d ever seen it be, and it held something different, remarkably different and you couldn’t put your finger on what it was. Though it seemed to be far too much as he looked away from you momentarily as if to gather himself, a soft laugh leaving his lips.

Everything felt that much more intense in that moment, and he felt as though his breath was caught in his throat as he stood before you. You were confused, that much was clear. You were still holding his hand in yours, still smiling at him with that smile. That had also been very clear. You were doused in the downpour and his heart beat wildly with each passing second, and if he opened and closed his mouth one more time he felt as though he just might look like an absolute fool.

“What are you doing?” You asked, taking a step closer as you look at him quizzically, “We’re just about soaked and you hate the rain—”

“I love you.”

The three words were spoken then, almost unheard against the heavy rain. They were soft and they were true, how could you not have heard them? Yet even though they clearly were, very clearly, it still hadn’t quite registered to you just exactly what he had just said. You couldn’t believe what you had heard.

“What?” You ask, a soft laugh leaving your lips. Not one of mocking, more of giddy surprise.

“I said I love you,” He repeats louder as he swallowed thickly, accompanied by a nervous laugh of his own as he wipes the wet strands of his hair out of his eyes.

The more time that had gone by, no matter how fleeting it made have been, the butterflies in his stomach were relentless. By this point the rain was of no importance, trying to stay dry was of no importance anymore. What was important was the way you grasped his flannel jacket and leaned on your toes, and the way you pressed your lips on his. Or the way you smiled against his lips as he pulled you close to him, as close as possible, dropping the soaked paper bag of pastries to the ground in favor of settling his hand on your cheek and tangling his fingertips in your hair.

You couldn’t help the quiet giggle that was threatening to break your moment; maybe it was the sheer loving intensity of it, or the fact that this was real and this was happening. But the way he kissed you, the way your heart beat so loudly you thought he could hear it, that’s what had kept you in that very real moment.

When you parted you hadn’t strayed more than a few inches as you looked up at him, beamed, his smile equally so as the two of you laughed softly. It was one of giddy love, of an unexpected moment of bliss. The feeling that the person you loved so wholly loved you back just as much. It was that kind of laugh.

“I love you,” you say, laughing once more as your foreheads touched in the fond moment. The tip of his nose had been flushed from the cold nipping at his skin, his smile brilliant and adoring and entirely telling of his love. “I love you.”

You kiss him again, soft and quick as you grabbed his hand before you spoke up after a short while to relish in your moment. “We’d better go inside!”

“Yeah,” he laughs, nodding in agreement even if he was perfectly content to stay there and kiss you. “I think we better.”

You pulled him along the muddy path as he laughed behind you at your antics. The two of you were breathless and soaked and still in a daze from the kiss you’d just shared mere moments ago as you rushed through the door. The look on Molly’s face changed from startled to quizzical as she took note of the sheer nothingness in either of your hands, her lips pursing and her arms crossing.

“Just where are the muffins? And the cookies?”

Ron looks to you with a smile and you the same, laughing softly amongst yourselves at the realization of just where they had been. The sight of your kiss swollen lips and flushed cheeks was telling enough of the reasoning such a blunder occurred. Not to mention the way the tips of his fingers still grasped yours. She knew. “We must’ve forgotten.”

He hadn’t broken his gaze from you quite yet as he spoke, far too lovestruck to do so. Far too enamored.

—

Tags: @anchoeritic @ch0colatefr0gs @vogueweasley @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @snitches-at-dawn @dracosathenaeum @awritingtree @lupinsclassroom @harrysweasleys @theweasleysredhair @writeroutoftime

#ron weasley #ron weasley one shot #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x you #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley headcanon #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley angst #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley fic

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jamilelucato · 4 years

Text

A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into [F. W.]

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Gryffindor!Reader (platonic); Fred Weasley x Reader.

Summary: Based on the song A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into from the musical Be More Chill; Y/N has conflicted feelings towards Draco, but talking to Fred might make she realize that she might be into someone else.

A/N: second post from the Musical Hogwarts list!! This is so cute, but there are no kisses here if that’s what you looking for. Also, if you want to really feel the song, I recommend reading first and then rereading it with the song.

Words: 1.700+

Musical Hogwarts || Hogwarts Masterlist

Fred and George walked in the Great Hall with a confident smile. They had just pranked Ron, and they couldn’t be happier with the results.

They found a place to sit next to y/N, a girl from Gryffindor that was the same age as Harry, Ron and Hermione. She was generally quite shy, but she used to have quirky remarks that made everybody laugh.

Today, however, she was looking rather upset.

Fred sat at her right and stared at her before paying attention to the food. He was hungry, but he was more worried about her than about lunch.

“What’s wrong, y/N?”

She looked up, noticing the twins sitting next to her. She tried to grin, but it seemed wrong. She turned back to her plate.

“Nothing.” It was nice having them caring about her, but they weren’t that close; she didn’t think it was prudent to tell them a secret about herself that she wasn’t even sure it was true.

Nevertheless, something kept on pushing her to talk.

“Come on, y/N, why the disturbed face?” Fred pushed. His big brown eyes made her more susceptible to spill her beans.

“Say there’s this person you pass in the hall every day,” she finally gave in, sighing before dropping her cutlery. “You’ve known him since... the first year.”

Fred raised a brow at her. He wasn’t so sure where that conversation was going. He looked at his twin, but George was too distracted with his food.

“You’re used to thinking about him in a certain way from the persona that he displayed,” she kept saying as if every detail was important. She felt that if he knew who she meant, things would be easier to understand; however, she was not confident enough to say his name.

“Okay...” Fred kept facing her, but his hands reached for the food in front of him. Not that he wasn’t curious, it was just ’cause he was hungrier than before.

“Then something changes,” she wrinkled her nose, uncertain how to proceed. “And he changes from a guy that you’d never be into to a guy that you’d kinda be into...”

Fred froze, the fork two inches from his mouth. Was her concern love? Y/N was in love?

He had not much to an opinion about it. It was obviously gonna happen someday, he just didn’t think y/N would confide in him.

“Is he worth it?” she asked, staring at his eyes with a sad look. “Fred? Is he?” she called Fred’s attention — but he seemed much more interested in his fork. She then breathed and looked away.

Fred turned to his twin, desperately wanting help. He had no idea what to do or what to say.

“Is she talking about me?” he asked George.

“Of course, she is!” George sort of whispered loudly. He had, in fact, paid attention to the whole conversation — y/N and Fred’s interactions were kinda his favourite TV series; there was always some drama! He didn’t think, however, that y/N would be the one to confess so soon. “Keep it up,” he elbowed his brother and turned back to his food.

Fred faced y/N again and met her eyes. He felt his cheeks turning red, but he seemed oblivious to his reaction. She kept talking:

“Say there’s this person that you never knew that well,” her voice was sweet like she was afraid of saying those things and regretting it.

Fred wished he knew what to say to comfort her. He had been undergoing the same lately — conflicted feelings, jealousy at random times...

“You thought that you had him pegged, but now you can’t tell...” y/N kept rambling, repeating the same words but Fred’s mind was far away. She was in love with him! Sure, she was proposing a hypothetical situation, but why would she mention it to Fred?

It all made sense — she and Fred didn’t use to hit it off so well at first. Fred (and George) were too much of pranksters for her; she didn’t believe tricking everyone every time was decent. But, this year, Fred had started to cool off, at least around her. He was becoming a gentleman — as Ginny phrased it.

“Is he worth it? Freddie?” y/N thought Fred didn’t seem much interested, and why would he be? It wasn’t like her to drift around the twins, but she just felt like he could understand.

“Absolutely,” Fred finally answered, lowering his brows in hopes to look more approachable.

She sighed and looked down at her now cold food.

“I don’t always relate to other people my age, except when I’m on the field,” oh, Quidditch... If things were as easy as the rules of the game. “There are so many changes that I’m going through,” she faced Fred and finally smiled, a sincere smile. She blushed at his reaction. “And why am I telling this to you?”

Fred was smiling back, just curving his lips up.

“Guess there’s a part of me that wants to,” she admitted. “I guess a part of me likes to, hm, talk to you. Who knew?”

Fred kept quiet, and she thought that she should end the conversation immediately. She was already too confused; she couldn’t even remember what she was first talking about. She was going to tell Fred she was in love... with someone else, right?

“I know that it’s weird, but it’s totally true,” she concluded, tilting her head to the left. “The guy that I’d kinda be into...” was she really going to tell Fred? Oh, Merlin, he was going to freak out, he was not going to take it well. None of her friends was.

“The guy that you’d kind of be into...” Fred encouraged her. He was very close to confessing his feelings himself, but he thought it was better to let her finish.

“Yeah, that guy that I’d kinda be into is...” she swallowed hard, biting her lip, attempting to remember the guy’s name, easily distracted with Fred’s face, “Draco.”

***

Fred was panicking. He was not expecting to hear y/N confess having feelings for Draco Malfoy.

Merlin, how?? When did you have the time to befriends Draco? He couldn’t have been treating you nice from the beginning, could he?

Thankfully, George intervened after your confession.

“Bro, we gotta go now!” he pulled Fred up. “Like right now!”

Fred gulped while y/N exchanged looks with the boys, confused about what was happening and very suspicious. Fred wasn’t going to say a thing after her whole trouble of telling him about who she fancies?

She didn’t have time to stop the twins, though, because soon they disappeared out of the Hall.

Y/N sighed. Now what? Did that mean Fred disapproved? Part of her knew he wouldn’t like it — Draco was some sort of bad guy from the Weasleys’ point of view — but she expected him to say something.

Perhaps that meant she was overlooking things. Draco had been nice to her for the past couple of weeks, but maybe it didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t like Draco to be nice, but he could be trying to change.

Or he could fancy her too.

No, he probably doesn’t.

***

“Hermione?” y/N called the bushy-haired girl’s name with a weak voice, but it was sufficient for her to hear it.

She had just arrived into the Gryffindor room with Harry and Ron, but the boys seemed to have their own problems to think about, so they didn’t mind when Hermione walked towards y/N, leaving them behind.

Y/N was sitting at the bottom of the stairs — squeezed close to the wall, leaving an empty space for those who wanted to go up to their dorms.

“What’s it, y/N?” Hermione asked, sitting on the step above hers.

“I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but...” y/N gulped, “has Draco seem nicer to you lately?”

“Particularly to me, or to everyone in general?”

She gave it a thought, “in general.”

“He does seem more... calm, I guess,” Hermione answered, lowering her shoulders. “It’s not that he stopped calling people names, it’s just that he has stopped calling people at all.”

Y/N sighed, looking down at the book she had in hands. Hermione noticed the change in her mood and asked about it.

“I knew I was seeing things where there were none,” y/N rued. “I thought I could be fancying him, but I’ve passed the whole afternoon trying to list things about him that I liked I could only come up with three.”

“Are there three things you like about Malfoy?” Hermione asked in a mocking tone, and y/N giggled.

“Funny, right?” she agreed. “Well, I’ve got: good looking—”

“Unfortunately, I agree, ” Hermione interrupted with a frowned face.

“—smart and empathetic.”

“I’m sorry — empathetic? When has he been empathetic??” Hermione showed her disbelief, moving her hands around.

Y/N pressed her lips together, thinking if she should tell Hermione or not.

“He noticed I was sad about my whole parents’ thing,” she said finally, “and we talked about some families coincidences we have.”

“You mean the death eater parents?” she asked with a bit too loud voice and y/N complained. Hermione gulped a sorry.

Not everyone in school knew about the terrible family y/N had, and she wanted to keep it that way.

“Well, I guess he can understand that. But has he ever been nice to you before?”

Y/N liked that about Hermione — she was logical and wanted to know her arguments to defend the crush. She didn’t seem to care the crush in question was on Draco Malfoy.

“No, not really,” y/N sighed, looking away, tilting her head down.

“Y/N, if I can be honest, I don’t think you like him,” although harsh, Hermione’s words did not hurt you. She was right, as always. “You’re probably just needy.”

“Mione!!” she screamed, pretending to be mad with Hermione who burst into laughter.

Hermione and y/N kept sitting on the stairs, smiling at each other, glad to have one another when a new worry popped into y/N’s mind.

“Oh, shit!”

“What, y/N?” Hermione looked down at her, passing one arm around her shoulders.

Y/N wasn’t completely wrong with her thoughts — she just directed it to the wrong direction. She had a crush. It was not on Draco, however.

“I need to talk to Fred!” y/N yelled, already getting up and leaving her book behind with Hermione.

“Told you you’re needy!” Hermione shouted back, laughing hard.

Y/N slowed down just to turn back at her friend with bulging eyes. “Shut up, Mione!”

#fred weasley #draco malfoy #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #draco malfoy x reader #fred and george #george weasley #Hermione Granger #harry potter #hp #hp fanfic #be more chill #hogwarts #fred x reader

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vinnwinters · 3 years

Text

Draco Malfoy and the most Forbidden of Curses - Chapter 2-

Moments passed as they followed Harry down the cluttered isles of the labyrinth. And then Harry stopped in front of an old cupboard, staring up at a dusty old wig.

What is Potter looking for? It doesn't matter. Nothing Potter does matters anymore. His journey ends here, and mine is just beginning, Draco thought, his lips curving into a sinister grin. Let's start this battle with the most menacing thing I can say, something that will send a shiver to Potter's core.

"Hold it, Potter," Draco said.

Harry Potter stopped and turned around to face them. Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward, their wands already raised.

You failed! Draco thought. That sounded so much more intimidating in my head! Aloud it sounded weak! He doesn't even look scared, only surprised! And you haven't even raised your wand yet! I need to make up for lost ground, I need to —

"That's my wand you're holding, Potter," Draco said, lowering his voice as he raised his wand between the two goons in front of him.

Better! I think he's really scared now, Draco thought, partially satisfied.

"Not anymore," Harry panted, squeezing the wand in his hand.

Draco's wand.

"Winners, keeper, Malfoy. Who's lent you theirs?"

That cocky little — He thinks he can talk to me like — I'll show him, Draco thought. I'll tell him off once and for all, I'll —

"My mother," Draco replied.

Harry laughed and then said something else, Crabbe replied; but Draco heard none of it. Harry's laughter echoed in his mind, repeating like a broken record.

He thinks he's better than me, he thinks he's — Draco thought.

"So how did you get in here?" Harry's voice broke through the fog of laughter entangling Draco's mind.

"I virtually lived in the Room of Hidden things all last year!" Draco blurted out, in a desperate attempt to appear like he was still part of the conversation. "I know how to get in."

Goyle said something, but his words were still muffled in Draco's mind. And then he heard another voice in the distance, Ron's voice.

And then there were shouts, and a loud crash

"Descendo!" Crabbe's voice brought Draco back to the moment.

"No!" shouted Draco, grabbing Crabbe's arm. "If you wreck the room you might bury this diadem thing!"

"What's the matter?" said Crabbe, breaking free of Draco's grip. "It's Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum?"

These two are useless as always, Draco thought with furious irritation. And now they're going to prevent me from delivering the die-dum to the Dark Lord, and they're going to get everybody killed!

"Potter came here to get it," Draco explained, in a tone as if he was talking to an infant, "so that must mean —"

"'Must mean?" Crabbe snarled as he turned towards Draco, "Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Draco. You an' your Dad are finished."

"We're taking them as our prisoners," Draco countered. "Not killing them."

"Harry, I found this weird book that —!" Ron's voice came from the other side of the junk wall. "What's going on?"

"You're othing', Draco. I'll kill Potter and his friends. And you're going to watch me do it, starting with that Mudblood," Crabbe snarled. "Crucio!"

The cursed soared through the air, barely missing Harry but sent the stone bust near him flying into the air.

I can't let this happen, Draco thought. I can't let this happen.

And then Hermione darted around the corner, her wand pointed in their direction.

"There she is," Crabbe said with a vile sneer.

"Stupefy!" Hermione shouted with a wave of her wand.

"I can do better than that, Mudblood scum," Crabbe snarled, "Avada Kedav —"

Crabbe hesitated and turned to Draco, who had grabbed his arm and held it tightly in a lock.

"Merlin's Beard Draco! What the hell are you —"

The Stunning Spell struck Crabbe smack in the side of his head, sending him flying backwards into the adjacent wall of rubbish.

"What did you do?" Goyle cried out to Draco as he flung a curse at Ron, nearly missing. "We're on the same side! We're on —"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted.

Goyle's wand flew high into the air, vanishing into the sea of clutter about him. Goyle desperately looked around; trying to retrieve the wand, but another Stunning Spell from Hermione sent him flying through the air. Draco watched as Goyle landed in the vast pool of junk, disappearing beneath its surface.

Draco turned back to see his three rivals spread out, with Hermione in the middle, each facing him with their wand out.

"You're all alone now, Malfoy," Harry said. "No one else to hide behind."

"I wasn't hiding behind anyone," Draco snapped.

"You've always been hiding," Harry replied.

How do I get out of this one? I can't kill Potter, and Granger is probably prepared to defend herself, Draco thought. So that leaves…

"I'll take you down myself you cowardly bastard!" Ron bellowed as he charged towards Draco.

"Ron, what are you doing?" Harry shouted.

"Ron, don't!" Hermione said, rushing to stop him.

Excellent, I can always count on a Weasley to provide the perfect opportunity, Draco thought with a grin.

"Crucio!" Draco yelled, sending a bolt of light towards Ron's chest.

"Finite!" Hermione screamed, nullifying his spell.

"Hermione, get down!" Harry shouted, trying to position himself so she was out of his line of fire.

Ron was halfway to Draco now, his face red with rage. Hermione ran frantically to protect him. It was a brief moment of vulnerability in their attack, a moment Draco was not going to let pass.

"Crucio!" Draco yelled again.

"Finite!" Hermione's spell countered his again.

Ron lifted his wand.

"Stupify!" Ron yelled.

"Expelliarmus! Harry yelled, finally having a clear shot.

"Protego!" Draco shouted, and a bright white shield flashed before him a moment before the two bolts of magic could hit him. The attacks bounced off the shield.

"Fini—!" Hermione began, but stopped as Harry's deflected attack knocked the wand from her hand.

She turned as Ron flew by her, knocked backwards by his own reflected attack.

"Ron!" Hermione screamed, watching helplessly as he soared through the air.

Harry hesitated, in shock of what had just transpired.

This is it, Draco thought, this is only chance I'll get of escape!

He lunged towards Hermione, grabbing her and pulling her between himself and Harry.

"Let me go!" Hermione screamed, but her struggling stopped when she saw his wand pointed at her.

"Well, Potter… if I'm going to be accused of hiding, best to play the part," Draco said with a spiteful tone, pressing his wand up against her neck.

Please let this bluff work, he begged silently. Her skin felt warm against his; Draco was afraid to admit that it actually felt nice.

"Release her, now!" Ron roared as he rushed back into the fray. His wand was raised in one hand, and he was holding a large, old book with engraved black leather binding in his other hand.

"Weasleys apparently bounce back quickly," Draco mocked.

"Malfoy, you'll pay for this!" Harry said.

"Not this time," Draco replied, tightening his grip on Hermione. "I think this is the time that I get one of those miraculous 'Harry Potter narrowly escapes the consequences of his own actions' moments. It feels like it's my time to shine."

"Please, Malfoy…," Hermione breathed. "Please let me go and we can talk this out."

"When I get my hands on you," Ron boomed. "I'll —"

"You'll do nothing," Draco snapped. "Nothing or we'll be fighting above your girlfriend's corpse!"

Hermione gasped softly.

I can't believe this bluff is actually working, Draco thought. Now I just need to get to the exit and —

"You harm her and this will be the last place you ever cast a spell!" Harry shouted.

"I'll make sure of that," Ron growled. "I won't let him harm you, Hermione!"

"Care to back up that threat?" Draco snarled back at the two of them.

"Don't worry about me, Ron," Hermione replied weakly. "Just protect yourself!"

"We're getting out of here," Draco said. "And if you two try anything I'll —"

Draco felt the air leave his lungs as Hermione elbowed him in the stomach.

"You Mudblood brat!" Draco snapped, and then moved his mouth like he was going to speak an incantation.

"You won't hurt her! Alvedios Domrehehala!" Ron shouted.

Hermoine's mouth fell open. Draco's eyes widened. A bright flash of blue light engulfed them both, and they were gone.

Silence fell over the room, as Harry and Ron stared at the empty spot where their friend and rival had both been.

"What the bloody hell did you do to them?" Harry shouted, turning towards Ron.

"I cast a spell!" Ron replied, the pitch in his voice higher than normal.

"Well I can see that," Harry countered, "but what spell was it?"

"What? How was I to know? I didn't want Hermione to get hurt, so I cast the first spell I read in this book!" Ron protested.

"You mean a book you just found?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ron quickly replied.

"You mean a book you just found… here?" Harry pressed.

"Of course, where else would I have found the book?" Ron responded in a tone that suggested that Harry had asked a dumb question.

"That's probably one of Tom Riddles's books, our enemy!" Harry snapped.

"I had to do something, or else he was going to kill her! I couldn't let him kill her!" Ron yelled.

"So again, what exactly did you do to them?" Harry asked.

"That is… well… a good question," Ron admitted, his eyes frantically scanning the book. "I only understood the first few lines; the rest is in a language I don't understand."

Harry looked over Ron's shoulder; at the pages he had open. The incantation itself was easily legible, but the rest was written in a text that looked more like runes than words. The one other line that he could read said "Of new beginnings in a different time."

"Look, I panicked, okay! You can't make me feel any worse than I'm beating up myself," Ron explained, his tone filled with regret.

Harry closed his eyes, and clenched his teeth.

"We need to go, Ron," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What, no. I'm not leaving her here!" Ron argued.

"We don't even know if she is here!" Harry countered.

"I said I'm not leaving her here!" Ron shouted.

"You can't save her if you're dead, Ron!" Harry yelled.

Silence fell over the room again.

"Look, if we're going to have any chance to figure out what happened, we need to first make sure that Voldemort doesn't destroy everyone at Hogwarts first," Harry said, his tone softer. "First thing we will do after that is try to find Hermione, okay?"

Ron nodded, swallowing hard. The look on his face broke Harry's heart.

"Okay…" he replied slowly. "Save the world, then save Hermione."

"Exactly," Harry said, putting his hand on Ron's shoulder. Author's Note: Thank you for checking out my work! Some of my published books are free to read now with Kindle Unlimited. If you find yourself enjoying my style of writing, then check out my profile to access my original published works, available via my website:www.vinnwinters.com.

#draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #dramione #harry potter #fanfiction #dark #magic #magic realism #adventure #harry potter fanfiction #draco fanfiction #hogwarts

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

All in the Family

Chapter 110: The Hogwarts High Inquisitor

After all the general crashing, smashing, and cursing wore off, it was nice to find themselves in a normal part of the castle such as the staff room. A game of chess had been interrupted by Frank, and all the pieces were yelling at him for it, cloaks were hung over the back of a few chairs, a stack of books anyone would peg to be McGonagall's had been overturned, and Professor Sprout had apparently been in the middle of grading a few assignments upon their entrance. Someone had even been reading the paper, Frank noticed as Alice picked up the copy with today's date. He shooed away a pawn that was still berating him and went over to see it had been covering the book, but as he picked it up he looked sharply at her instead as she gasped loud enough to drown out everybody else's mutterings.

Without prompting she read out Umbridge's new position as Hogwarts High Inquisitor, and just what exactly that was. By the end all of them had a nasty pit in their stomach, and Frank was gripping the book like it had toad slime covering it. She'd only been there one week and already had equal power to the Headmaster? What madness was this?

Sirius watched in disgust as Longbottom read the chapter title as repeat of that stupid self-imposed ruling from the toad, but announced the article was read by Harry himself and was forced to reread it, as they all knew the book wouldn't let them skip. It sounded no better the second time, like a worm digging in one ear and down the throat, but sadly gave Sirius's mind a chance to wander and go back to watching Regulus with deep contemplation.

He was chasing the lost chess pieces around, and finally came up with all the white ones, offering Peter a game, who instantly agreed. He watched the two walk away, that pit in his stomach growing.

Some instinct still wanted to go over there and stop this before it went any farther. Logic told him that these two had ended up being Death Eaters without the others' influence, wouldn't them hanging out just fast forward that process?

Then he watched Regulus laugh again, and Peter actually smiled with a kind of pride Sirius couldn't claim to have ever seen.

This whole experience had gone from weird, to kind of cool, to horrifying, to traumatizing, to now just kind of, common place. The last time he'd thought about dealing with Regulus in any capacity had been ages ago now, the Marauders' own business being blown up and finally settling into an uneasy agreement had pushed his brother far from his mind, but now watching the two, he was kicking himself more than ever for it all.

Even being forced into his company Sirius had never properly reached a hand out to Regulus, as Peter himself had once so eloquently put it. He'd begun thinking of his dorm mates as his brothers by the end of second year, and third year had all but confirmed it by the time Regulus walked into school. Peter had even sort of absently replaced Regulus in his mind, the kid brother he could give shit to but nobody else in the world could. James was his equal now, the first to turn to when he had a problem and always had a good solution. Remus even had Regulus' biting sarcasm that he wouldn't let anyone see but his real friends, otherwise he was the face of cool and calm. He'd finally admit to himself watching them now he could have two baby brothers, right?

"Padfoot?" James hopped up on the table beside him where he'd landed and never moved, watching his line of sight. He tried to hide his unease Sirius was scrutinizing the pair again. If Sirius went off again about trying to get them to stay apart, James had no idea how he could step in and stop any of it. He still found it weird himself, but neither was doing any real harm. If anything, James would have to admit the two always seemed in a better mood hanging out with each other.

"It's not too late for us, right James?" He asked quietly, eyes on Moony now as he went over to the cupboard and rubbed his hand thoughtfully along it. Harry and Ron had once hid inside it and listened to the devastating news of Ginny's death and had saved her life in impossible odds.

"No," James said instantly, even if he still wasn't entirely sure what Sirius was getting at. He, as usual, was watching Evans, sitting by Longbottom's feet with Alice and the two whispering suspiciously as Harry's lessons went through without Umbridge, yet, in History of Magic and Potions, though the later of which was still a miserable experience for all.

She hadn't defended Snivellus in some time now, he'd very pleasantly noted, and in fact as talk turned to OWL grades she hadn't even glanced up at the book through the whole class. Maybe she was finally starting to see the git he was?

Then, as the twins arrived, her eyes flickered to him and away so fast, he'd swear his eyes were playing tricks on him. She still thought he was like them, only a troublemaker and nothing more.

He didn't want to open up his own prank shop though. While a worthy cause he'd invest in, he had other goals and aspirations for his life. He'd walked away from his career advice even nurturing the idea of being an Auror. Surely she'd see that as a good thing?

"We've always made our own future," James said practically, now grinning at Moony who was hovering as close to the three as he dared, clearly very invested in this whole teacher grading outcome. None of them acknowledged him, which in itself was a kindness to the fear-filled looks he was probably expecting. "I say we keep doing that."

"Yeah?" Sirius sounded a bit hopeful now. James grinned as he shook his shoulder for emphasis.

"Yeah. You're a bloody impulsive idiot, and I'd never change that, but maybe next time you lay into them, just, think about how bad you felt last time?" He felt stupid putting it as a question, but it was more than obvious Sirius felt bad for something regarding those two in particular. The list of reasons that could be wasn't exactly short, but when James tore his eyes back away to see Sirius honestly considering his words and eyes back on Regulus and Peter, he put it together with Sirius's reaction to Percy's letter.

Sirius wanted to make amends to the two, and he didn't want it to get ripped up in his face.

He tore his eyes away from their game, Peter was winning, and grinned at him. "And you Prongs? Going to put all that practice of annoying Evans finally sink in and try something else?"

"I might," he said honestly, going in vivid detail in his mind over all the times he'd interacted with her, specifically the ones where she hadn't started calling him an arrogant birk. The ones that stuck out were when he'd stopped trying to make her laugh, oddly enough, but had just talked to her. How strange. "Worth a shot."

The two were interrupted by the book, as Umbridge entered Trelawney's class.

"Bet you a galleon someone's going to walk away from this dead," James said uneasily.

Sirius wasn't taking that bet, this was definitely going to be a horror show. It started out memorable enough for sure, Harry giving Ron the task to analyze his dream about drowning Snape gave everyone a grim laugh, even if Lily would deny any such thing. Then Umbridge started asking some routine questions that quickly devolved into Trelawney's shriek of insolence that she could not See upon command. The spectacle finally ended with Trelawney's dour announcement that Harry was to die, again, and honestly it hadn't been as bad as they thought.

"Can I still get that galleon?" Sirius asked.

"No," James huffed.

Umbridge's own lesson in fact ended up being worse, as it ended with Harry in another detention! James snarled in disgust, his hand itching to go for his wand and suspend this woman up by her ankle and leave her there for eternity if she kept doing this to his kid! Sirius was so outraged he stood up on the desk and began shouting several expletives, while Lily let her face fall into her hands. She couldn't stop herself hearing this, but she couldn't keep watching.

"I can't help but be rather impressed with him," Peter said quietly to Regulus as he watched Sirius's face start turning colors. "A lesser man would have backed down after what Harry went through, this kid's still pushing her."

"Being an idiot about it though," Regulus corrected, also frowning in concern at his brother. "You really think getting detentions would change anything but make her happier? Harry would be better off finding some other way to fight back than bowing down." He preferred the idea of getting in her good graces and destabilizing her from the inside.

"It's not as if the Order is exactly sharing how to do that," Peter disagreed, but he could definitely see Regulus's point. Both of them were very aware that if Umbridge were here now, it would be Sirius and James in those detentions and not them.

"Hopefully someone will come up with a better answer for Harry then," Regulus muttered, or the people listening to this were probably going to break the sound barrier first.

Their game forgotten, the two cringed into their seats until Remus finally came over and convinced Sirius to stop threatening for a few breaths or they'd never hear the end of it. Harry's new Quidditch captain and even McGonagall adding insult to injury was improving no one's mood though.

Still, it was nice to see Sirius's temper lash out at someone else for a change, Peter and Regulus even found themselves smiling a bit as the three's not so quiet mutters of what kind of pranks they'd be doing to that Umbridge filtered in the room.

Lily found herself listening grimly to the lot rather than Umbridge and McGonagall's back and forth. It deeply bothered her she found no ill will for listening in detail to their horrible pranking, but was she any better when she'd just been imagining slipping in a slow-acting poison into her next meal?

At least she'd only been imagining it...right? She warred with herself just how far she'd go to put a stop to this, if her own hand was being cut open, if some little first-year's was. The idea of having children was still above her, but she wouldn't deny she felt protective of Harry enough she wasn't going to stop the Marauders if they got the chance of meeting her any time when they got back.

It didn't make their vile ways of doing these kinds of things to anyone that annoyed them any better, especially Sev, but this was also not the first time she understood why they did it. It scared her just as much as her own wavering answer she realized she was actually starting to understand those idiots.

Frank found that things only continued to get worse as Umbridge followed Harry to his next class, Care of Magical Creatures. When Harry was given yet another detention for defending Hagrid from Malfoy's past stupid mistake, he had to fight the urge to join in with Lily this time as she cursed vividly, though not as loudly as Black started doing all over again.

This was beyond disgusting, his Mum would never stand for this happening in Hogwarts! Then Frank looked miserably at Lily, and glanced sadly at the godfather, and reminded himself Harry didn't have anyone to really go to this with.

When Hermione brought up the subject of them just learning Defense Against the Dark Arts straight from Harry, he and Alice exchanged another terrified look. It was such a singular moment to them, they didn't even register anyone else's reaction, this was their own bubble of worry.

Neither had spoken of it because the book itself hadn't, but what if Neville started getting these detentions as well? Was Harry the only one here? Doing this to him was bad enough they already wished someone would step in, but it seemed a disaster waiting to happen if Neville, Ron, Hermione, those twins, and a host of other students were to join Harry.

Frank still remembered Luna Lovegood and Ernie Macmillan declaring themselves publicly believing Harry, and he fidgeted with unease if Harry would still think he was in the right if those around him started suffering his same punishment.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #OotP #Wolfstar #Jilly #James Potter #Marauders #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Peter Pettigrew #Frank Longbottom #alice Smith #Lily Evans

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chaoticowlpost · 4 years

Note

hello, a prompt for you :) how about the golden and silver trio plus the others all in one house? like they're all holed up in one of draco's family manor or harry's impulsively-bought house and basically chaos ensues

“I told you this was a stupid idea.”

Draco was pacing in his - unreasonably large - bedroom, if that’s what you could call it. Really, it was more like a personal mini-sitting area that was attached to an actual bedroom.

“I blame Ronald,” Blaise snorted, lounging casually on one of the settees.

“Me?” Harry’s best friend yelped indignantly from where he was lying down on the carpet. “I wasn’t the one who said that there’s no way his parents would come back to find us here.”

“Don’t push that on me, now,” Pansy said haughtily, lying on one side of the large bed. “I wasn’t the one who suggested spending the day indoors.”

“I only suggested it because there’s a lot to do here,” Hermione defended herself. “I forgot that he wasn’t allowed to have people over when I said it. If anything, we should blame Harry.”

“What?” Harry asked, slowly processing that the blame had somehow been passed onto him. “What did I do?”

“You were the one who suggested going through the floo anyway,” Hermione huffed.

“I was just joking!” he said defensively, before snorting. “Besides, it’s not like I pushed you through your own fireplaces while Draco wasn’t looking,”

Harry focused his attention back onto Draco, who was still panicking silently. He felt himself frown at the sight, feeling bad for the other boy.

“Peer pressure.”

“Oh my gods!” Draco finally said aloud, wailing. “They’re going to kill me.”

“Relax, Draco,” Pansy said softly, empathizing with their friend. “What are the chances they’d come in here?”

“High!” Draco exclaimed, his eyes wide and frenzied. The image was also heightened by how messy his hair had become from running his hand through it repeatedly over the course of the past few minutes. “Very High!”

“Well, what do you suppose we do?” Hermione asked, getting up. “Maybe we can find a way to escape.”

“You’d think with how large your room is, they’d have bothered to link your fireplace to the floo network,” Ron snorted. He had a point, Harry conceded.

They all went silent after that, each one of them thinking of a possible solution before someone decides to come looking for Draco.

“Jump out of the window!”

“What?” Blaise demanded, looking appropriately concerned.

“Jump out of the window,” Draco repeated, his face showing that he was serious. “It’s the only other way.”

“I’ll break my legs!” Ron protested. “We’re on the third floor!”

“I’’ll break your legs, Weasley, if you lot get caught in here!” Draco hissed, glaring at the redhead.

“Surely, there’s another solution,” Hermoine interrupted, sounding uncertain.

“Nope,” Draco shrugged before finally plopping himself down on one of the sofas. “There are balconies below that you could land on, which should break your fall.”

“That’s assuming we actually land on them,” Pansy pointed out, an eyebrow raised.

“Sounds like your problem,” Draco huffed, raising a neat eyebrow back at her. “Because I told you not to come here.”‘

This was not how Harry thought he would die.

It was either death by Lucius Malfoy, who would probably make his death more painful once he realizes that Harry has feelings for his son, or death by jumping off a balcony.

Somehow, the balcony option began to look more appealing.

“This is an old, magic house, isn’t it?” Hermione asked rhetorically. “Maybe there’s a secret passageway somewhere?”

“And, pray tell, what makes you think that my magical ancestors would want to use secret passageways when they have magic?” Draco asked, looking like he was on the verge of imploding.

“It was just a suggestion, mate,” Ron shrugged, somewhat less bothered. He began walking around the room, examining for something. What he was looking for was entirely lost on Harry.

“We’re magic!” Blaise suddenly said out loud, sitting up abruptly.

“Yes, as I’ve been informed at the ripe age of 11,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

“Watch the tone, Potter,” Blaise said with no malice. “I just mean that we could cast a disillusionment charm on all of us and sneak out of the manor.”

“First of all,” Draco said, exhaling loudly through his nostrils. “The path from here to any possible exit is far; much farther than it would be if you’d jump out of the balcony-”

“Not happening,” Pansy huffed, interrupting him.

“-Secondly, none of us are good enough at that charm to go completely undetected,” Draco said pointedly. “And, really, five teenagers trying to creep out quietly? Fat chance.”

“We’re gonna die before we graduate. Mum is going to kill me,” Ron wailed dramatically, giving up on his investigation. “Maybe if we-”

A knock sounded from the door.

“Hide!” Draco instructed, throwing insults at them under his breath as he moved around the room.

“Where?” Harry asked, looking around. They could shut the doors to the bedroom so Lucius would only see the sitting area, but they’d still be in plain sight.

“The bathroom!” Draco said, pointing towards one of the doors on the side of the room.

“But-”

“Not now, Harry,” Hermione sighed, grabbing him by the arm. She practically dragged him into the bathroom while the others followed closely behind them before shutting the door.

“We’re still pretty obvious,” Harry pointed out, a sense of dread filling him. Maybe it was time to accept their fate.

“The shower,” Pansy suggested. “It’s mostly hidden by the wall, so they’d have to actually go in to see us.”

“Are we going to fit?” Harry asked worriedly. They were 5 teenagers, after all.

“Draco has a large bathroom,” Blaise shrugged, stepping in. They could have stood, but who knew how long they were going to be in there. So that’s how they found themselves practically pressed against one another - shoulder to shoulder - with their knees drawn up on the dry, shower floor.

“Father!” They could hear Draco’s voice through the walls.

“You’d think that the door would be thicker, all things considered,” Ron snorted before promptly getting smacked upside the head by his girlfriend.

“Quiet,” she hissed. “If we can hear them, there’s a chance that they can hear us.”

“Maybe we should just come out and confess,” Harry said, feeling himself start to panic. He hasn’t even asked Draco out yet, and his parents would already hate him.

Fuck, this was not how he wanted their first meeting to go.

“Are you mad?” Blaise asked him, his voice a harsh whisper. “Draco’s dad might actually kill us. There’s no way I’m stepping out there.”

“Same here,” Ron shrugged, looking at him apologetically.

“But at least if we just admit that we’re here, we wouldn’t look as bad as we do getting caught like this,” Harry pointed out.

“Trying to make a good impression, are you?” Pansy scoffed. If only she knew how true that statement rang.

“Shut up,” Harry said instead. “I don’t want to die.”

“Well, we’re going to die anyway because-”

“-Tell me honestly, Draco,” the older Malfoy’s voice drawled through the walls. “Is there someone else in here?”

-————————————————-

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Written In The Stars CXV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I like my book and I’ll write the plot however I want but at the same time I want everyone to like my story pls like my story -Danny

Words: 3,849

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Listen to: ‘No Goobyes’ -By Dua Lipa

Chapter Thirteen: Dumbledore's Army.

As soon as she sat down next to Ron, a head popped out of the fireplace.

"Sirius!" Ron and Mel exclaimed together.

"Hi," He smiled.

"Hi," They all responded, kneeling around the fire.

"How're things?"

"Not that good," said Harry. "The Ministry's forced through another decree, which means we're not allowed to have Quidditch teams —"

"— or secret Defense Against the Dark Arts groups?" said Sirius.

A second passed.

"How did you know about that?" Harry demanded.

Mel pulled Grey away from the fire while Hermione kept Crookshanks far from it as well.

"Who didn't know about that?" Mel said grumpily.

"You want to choose your meeting places more carefully," said Sirius, his grin only getting wider. "The Hog's Head... How's your Grandad, Mel?"

Ron and Harry, who had no idea of what that meant, turned to look at her with confusion. Mel let out another groan.

"I had to play dumb and pretend I didn't know him," She looked at the boys with a tense expression. "The bartender's my grandad."

"What?!" Ron and Harry asked at the same time.

"Well, it was better than the Three Broomsticks!" said Hermione. "That's always packed with people —"

"— which means you'd have been harder to overhear. You've got a lot to learn, Hermione."

"Who overheard us?" Harry demanded.

"Mundungus, of course," said Sirius laughing. "He was the witch under the veil."

"That was Mundungus?" Harry said. "What was he doing in the Hog's Head?"

"What do you think he was doing?" said Sirius. "Keeping an eye on you, of course."

"I'm still being followed?" asked Harry in outrage.

"Yeah, you are, and just as well, isn't it, if the first thing you're going to do on your weekend off is organize an illegal defence group."

"Why was Dung hiding from us?" asked Ron. "We'd've liked to've seen him."

"He was banned from the Hog's Head twenty years ago, and Mel's gran' got a long memory. We lost Moody's spare Invisibility Cloak when Sturgis was arrested, so Dung's been dressing as a witch a lot lately... Anyway... First of all, Ron — I've sworn to pass on a message from your mother."

"Oh yeah?" said Ron fearfully.

"She says on no account whatsoever are you to take part in an illegal secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group. She says you'll be expelled for sure and your future will be ruined. She says there will be plenty of time to learn how to defend yourself later and that you are too young to be worrying about that right now. She also advises Harry and Hermione not to proceed with the group, though she accepts that she has no authority over either of them and simply begs them to remember that she has their best interests at heart. She would have written all this to you, but if the owl had been intercepted you'd all have been in real trouble, and she can't say it for herself because she's on duty tonight."

"On duty doing what?"

"Never you mind, just stuff for the Order," said Sirius. "So it's fallen to me to be the messenger and make sure you tell her I passed it all on because I don't think she trusts me to."

"What does my mum says about it?"

Sirius smiled again.

"She said 'Why do I even bother?' "

Mel snorted.

"So you want me to say I'm not going to take part in the defence group?" Ron said sadly.

"Me? Certainly not!" said Sirius, raising his eyebrows. "I think it's an excellent idea!"

"You do?" said Harry.

"Shocker," Mel replied sarcastically.

"Of course I do! D'you think your parents and I would've lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?"

"But — last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks —"

"Last year all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry! This year we know that there's someone outside Hogwarts who'd like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!"

"And if we do get expelled?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione, this whole thing was your idea!" said Harry.

"I know it was... I just wondered what Sirius thought," She shrugged.

"Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue," said Sirius.

"We won't get expelled," Mel rolled her eyes. "Not as long as my uncle is Headmaster. He won't throw us out knowing we're being hunted. We're safe as long as we learn how to play our cards."

Sirius gave her a funny look.

"You've been practising your skills, little Em?"

Mel winked at him.

"So," said Sirius, "how are you organizing this group? Where are you meeting?"

"Well, that's a bit of a problem now," said Harry. "Dunno where we're going to be able to go..."

"How about the Shrieking Shack?" suggested Sirius.

"Hey, that's an idea!" said Ron excitedly, but Hermione clicked her tongue.

"Well, Sirius, it's just that there were only five of you meeting in the Shrieking Shack when you were at school, and all of you could transform into animals and I suppose you could all have squeezed under a single Invisibility Cloak if you'd wanted to. But there are about thirty of us and none of us is an Animagus, so we wouldn't need so much an Invisibility Cloak as an Invisibility Marquee —"

"Fair point... Well, I'm sure you'll come up with somewhere... There used to be a pretty roomy secret passageway behind that big mirror on the fourth floor, you might have enough space to practice jinxes in there —"

"Fred and George told me it's blocked," said Harry gloomily. "Caved in or something."

"Oh..." Sirius frowned. "Well, I'll have a think and get back to —"

His eyes widened slightly, and he turned his head to the side as if hearing something.

"Sirius?" Harry asked quietly. Sirius' head pulled back abruptly. "Why did he — ?"

A hand had appeared amongst the flames, groping as though to catch hold of something; a stubby, short-fingered hand covered in ugly old-fashioned rings...

The four of them stood up and ran, Mel and Harry both stopped and looked back at Umbridge's hand in the fire. Both frightened, wide-eyed, before disappearing into their rooms.

"Hermione," Mel whispered so Parvati and Lavender wouldn't wake up, closing the door behind her. "I talked to Erick today."

"About what?"

"I think we solved the communication problem," She said, pulling out her watch and handing it to her friend. "But I'll need your help."

"Silencio!" said Hermione hastily, pointing her wand at Harry's frog, which deflated silently before them. "Well, he mustn't do it again, that's all. I just don't know how we're going to let him know. We can't send him an owl."

"I can send one to my mum," Mel objected, silencing her raven with one swift wand movement.

"I don't reckon he'll risk it again," said Ron. "He's not stupid, he knows she nearly got him. Silencio!" Ron's raven only sounded louder. "Silencio! SILENCIO!"

"It's the way you're moving your wand," said Hermione. "You don't want to wave it, it's more a sharp jab."

"Ravens are harder than frogs," said Ron. Mel gave him a look as she held her mute raven.

"Fine, let's swap," said Hermione. "Silencio!"

The raven stopped making a sound.

"Very good, Miss Granger!" said Professor Flitwick. "Now, let me see you try, Mr Weasley!"

Mel snorted, earning a nudge from Hermione.

"Wha — ? Oh — oh, right," said Ron. "Er — Silencio!"

He poked the frog in the eye; it gave a deafening croak and jumped off the desk.

"I already told you I'll help you with charms!" Mel exclaimed, trying to aim to Peeves, who was floating above them and attempting to throw an ink pellet at the students.

It was raining hard outside, so they were left to hang out inside the classrooms with little to do.

"Like you helped me last week?" Ron asked bitterly.

"I said I was sorry, all right?" She rolled her eyes. "Lost track of time..."

"You didn't want to help me," He argued.

"Don't be silly," She retorted. "Watch this..."

She flicked her wand and shot a splash of ice-cold water towards Peeves' butt. The Poltergeist yelped and turned around, but Mel had hidden her wand and was now looking at Ron, pretending to be focused on the conversation. Peeves left the classroom fuming, once gone, they erupted into cackles.

"You shouldn't taunt him, Mel," Hermione warned her. "He can be cruel if he wants to."

"Me too," The girl smirked.

"I've got permission!" Angelina ran into the classroom. "To re-form the Quidditch team!"

"Excellent!" said the boys.

"Yeah, I went to McGonagall and I think she might have appealed to Dumbledore — anyway, Umbridge had to give in. Ha! So I want you down at the pitch at seven o'clock tonight, all right, because we've got to make up time, you realize we're only three weeks away from our first match?"

She left as quickly as she had appeared; Peeves flew back in, his arms carrying a bunch of new ink pellets to throw at them. Mel felt the slightest sting of worry.

"Hope this clears up..." Ron said looking out the window. "What's up with you, Hermione?"

"Just thinking..."

"About Siri... Snuffles?"

"No... not exactly... More... wondering... I suppose we're doing the right thing... I think... aren't we?"

Harry, Mel and Ron looked at each other.

"Well, that clears that up," said Ron. "It would've been really annoying if you hadn't explained yourself properly."

"I was just wondering," She said, clearer this time, "whether we're doing the right thing, starting this Defense Against the Dark Arts group."

"What!" said Harry and Ron together.

"Hermione, it was your idea in the first place!" said Ron.

"I know, but after talking to Snuffles..."

"But he's all for it!" said Harry.

"Yes! Yes, that's what made me think maybe it wasn't a good idea after all..."

Peeves floated above them, all four lifted their bags to cover their heads.

"Let's get this straight," said Harry, once again in a bad mood, "Sirius agrees with us, so you don't think we should do it anymore?"

"Do you honestly trust his judgment?"

"Yes, I do! He's always given us great advice!"

"You don't think he has become... sort of... reckless... since he's been cooped up in Grimmauld Place? You don't think he's... kind of... living through us?"

"What d'you mean, 'living through us'?" Harry retorted.

"Oh, yeah he's definitely doing that," Mel admitted. "But what's wrong about it?"

"I mean... well, I think he'd love to be forming secret defence societies right under the nose of someone from the Ministry... I think he's really frustrated at how little he can do where he is... so I think he's keen to kind of... egg us on."

"So what?" Mel frowned. "It's still the right thing to do, him having no power over his life it's exactly where we are as well. The difference is that we have a chance to do something, and he wants us to take it."

"But there's so much at risk!"

"Sirius is right," Ron said in disbelief, "you do sound just like my mother."

Hermione didn't speak to them after that.

The next day Harry told them all about Dobby's visit in the middle of the night, waking him up after falling asleep in the common room by accident. He told them he'd found a room where to hold their meetings, which was great news, considering the girls had figured out a way to communicate without being too obvious.

The walls were lined with wooden bookcases, and instead of chairs, there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors, and a large cracked Foe-Glass that Harry was sure had hung, the previous year, in the fake Moody's office.

"How wonderful!" Mel walked towards the bookcases.

"These will be good when we're practising Stunning," said Ron, looking at the cushions.

"And just look at these books!" said Hermione standing beside her. "A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions... The Dark Arts Outsmarted... Self-Defensive Spellwork... wow... Harry, this is wonderful, there's everything we need here!"

There was a brief moment where Mel and Harry looked at each other, both with the same excited expression. Harry was about to say something when someone knocked on the door. Ginny, Neville, Lavender, Parvati, and Dean had arrived.

"Whoa," said Dean. "What is this place?"

Harry explained everything to their classmates as more started to arrive. At eight o'clock the place was full, every cushion occupied. Harry closed the door and turned the key. Everyone looked at him and Mel. Hermione set her book aside. Mel got up and stood next to Harry, feeling strangely out of place after all that time away from him.

"Well," He said. "This is the place we've found for practices, and you've — er — obviously found it okay —"

"It's fantastic!" said Cho.

"It's bizarre," said Fred. "We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard then..."

"It changes depending on what you need it to be," Mel shrugged. "It became a toilet room for my uncle once."

Many laughed at her statement.

"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" asked Dean.

"Dark Detectors," Harry moved towards some objects. "Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled..."

"Well, only the sneakoscopes, really," Mel added. "The Foe-glass is harder to trick, only if you know your way around technicalities..."

"Well," The boy looked at her carefully, then moved his gaze to the group. "I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and — er —" Hermione raised her hand. "What, Hermione?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader."

"Harry's leader," said Cho at once. Noticing the way some stared at her, she blushed and added. "Mel too, of course!"

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly," said Hermione. "It makes it formal and it gives them authority. So — everyone who thinks Harry and Mel ought to be our leaders?"

Everybody put up their hands.

"Er — right, thanks," Harry blushed madly. Mel scolded herself for thinking how cute it was. "And — what, Hermione?"

"I also think we ought to have a name! It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" said Angelina.

"Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?" suggested Fred.

"I was thinking," said Hermione, "more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defense Association?" said Cho. "The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the D.A.'s good," said Ginny. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it? And after all," She smirked at Mel. "A Dumbledore is our leader."

Mel grinned, a couple of students laughing along and agreeing with Ginny.

"All in favour of the D.A.?" said Hermione. "That's a majority — motion passed!"

She grabbed the parchment with all of their names on it on a wall and wrote DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY at the top.

"Right," said Harry, then he turned to Mel, "shall we get practising then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful —"

"Sure," Mel shrugged. "Could do it in my sleep..."

"Oh please," said Zacharias Smith with annoyance. "I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

"I've used it against him," said Harry sharply. "It saved my life last June. But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave."

No one left, of course.

"No objections then," Mel continued, "stand up, hope you brought your wands with you, otherwise it'll be a very boring night..."

"Okay," said Harry. "I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice."

Mel was kind of used to being listened to at that point, after all those weeks being the centre of attention of her new group of friends. Harry was a whole different story, he would usually try to hide and be quiet when he didn't want to be noticed, and she could tell he was having a hard time being the boss. She took the matter into her owns hands and paired everyone up, Neville was the last one standing, so Harry and she took turns with him.

"Right — on the count of three, then — one, two, three —"

Glancing around he thought he had been right to suggest that they practice the basics first; there was a lot of shoddy spellwork going on; many people were not succeeding in disarming their opponents at all, but merely causing them to jump backward a few paces or wince as the feeble spell whooshed over them.

"Merlin..." Mel was divided between shock and amusement.

"Expelliarmus!" Neville yelled without warning and Harry's wand flew out of his hand. "I DID IT! I've never done it before — I DID IT!"

"Good one!" said Harry. "Listen, Neville, can you take it in turns to practice with Ron and Hermione for a couple of minutes so Mel and I can walk around and see how the rest are doing?"

Mel took one side of the room and Harry the other. For a group of beginners, she thought they were doing all right. Harry and Mel met halfway and stopped to watch everyone side by side.

"What are your thoughts on this?" Harry asked her.

"I think you should've let the twins mess with Zacharias Smith a bit longer, he definitely needs to be humbled down..."

"We have weeks to do so," He replied casually.

"Ginny's doing great though, she did it in her first try!"

"I suspect Michael is only pretending to suck."

"If he is, he's doing the wrong thing to impress her," Mel smirked. "Anthony tried to show off when I walked past and he threw his wand directly at Smith's face!"

"Sometimes I want to throw a wand at Smith's face.."

Mel laughed, locking eyes with Harry. Her chest tightened at the sight of his silly old grin, and for a moment she felt like maybe not all hope was lost. Maybe they could find a way to be friends again.

"Er," She cleared her throat. "We should give them new directions now."

"What? Oh, right. Okay. Stop!" Harry shouted a bit clumsily, turning to look at their classmates. "Stop! STOP!"

"There," Mel nudged his arm and pointed to the whistle on the bookcase next to him. Harry took it a blew it.

"That wasn't bad," said Harry once they all stopped, "but there's definite room for improvement. Let's try again..."

As they continued to help around, Mel noticed he was letting her take care of Cho and Marietta. This, of course, reminded her that even though she was still having a hard time getting over him, Harry had long moved on from their... thing. So she avoided the pair until Harry had no choice but to go to them.

"Oh no," Cho blushed furiously as he approached. Mel lingered a few feet away, pretending to examine the Creeveys' techniques. "Expelliarmious! I mean, Expellimellius! I — oh, sorry, Marietta! You made me nervous, I was doing all right before then!"

Mel rolled her eyes at that. It wasn't that Cho was annoying, it wasn't even that Cho deserved to be disliked, but Mel was barely keeping it together every day and now she had to stand there and watch as Harry flirted with his crush twice a week.

"That was quite good," She heard Harry lie, after a second, he corrected. "Well, no, it was lousy, but I know you can do it properly, I was watching from over there..."

Marietta looked at them with exasperation and turned to leave. Mel watched as Cho leaned closer to whisper something to Harry's ear and that's when she decided she'd seen enough. The girl turned around.

"Hey, watch it!" Someone yelled at her.

Mel drew out her wand and stop the projectile before it stabbed her in the eye. She picked up George's wand from the ground and handed it back.

"You guys are doing great," She teased.

"Thanks," Said George. "Fred's enthusiastic."

"Talking about enthusiasm," Fred discretely pointed towards Harry and Cho with his head. "What's that about?"

"I don't care," Mel replied, making a face. "As long as it doesn't distract him from what we're doing here..."

"He looks distracted already," Fred raised a brow. "Want me to bring him back to earth?"

He waved his wand as if to jinx Harry, Mel grabbed his arm and moved it away, giggling.

"I'm afraid you're not allowed to hurt your teacher," She replied humorously.

"If you're done flirting, it's my turn to practice!" George called out.

"We're not, actually," Fred put an arm around her shoulders and pointed to George with his wand. "You're going to have to kill me first!"

"No killing tonight!" Mel laughed, stepping away from Fred's grip. "Stop fooling around, keep practising!"

"Sure thing, Professor!" The twins replied.

Ten minutes later, when Harry and Mel finally called it a night, everyone looked flushed and tired, but happier than they'd looked in months.

"Well, that was pretty good, but we've overrun, we'd better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?"

"Sooner!" said Dean.

"The Quidditch season's about to start, we need team practices too!" Said Angelina.

"Let's say next Wednesday night, then," said Harry, looking at Mel for her approval. She nodded. "And we can decide on additional meetings then... Come on, we'd better get going..."

"You all were brilliant," Mel smiled. "Hope to see you all again next time!"

"That was really, really good, guys," said Hermione when they were finally the only ones left in the hall.

"Yeah, it was!" said Ron. "Did you see me disarm Hermione?"

"Only once! I got you loads more than you got me —"

"I did not only get you once, I got you at least three times —"

"Well, if you're counting the one where you tripped over your own feet and knocked the wand out of my hand —"

"No bickering tonight, guys!" Mel said brightly. "The whole point is for everyone to learn and be better! I'm really proud of everyone– Neville especially, he looked so sure of himself!"

Mel glanced at Harry and found him staring at the Marauder's Map, his finger hovering over the dot with the tag 'Cho Chang'.

Next Chapter —>

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