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evergone · 6 months

Note

Hey!! Idk know if you are taking requests right now but can you write a Theo x Hufflepuff reader imagine where the reader is always telling him to make friends from other houses. He finally does make friends but with a beautiful Ravenclaw and starts spending more time with her. The reader starts feeling insecure and ignores Theo. He soon realises that she is ignoring him and talks to her.

Btw I love your writing and can you please tag me if you do write it?

Too Friendly

Theodore Nott x reader

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to sex but no sex.

Description: The reader wants Theo to make more friends but when he does, she becomes insecure about their bond.

Sorry this took so long to get out, I'm in the middle of my final exams of high school so I don't have much time. I enjoyed writing this one. Thanks for the request @orphicmortala

“It’s sad, Theo, you’ve got, like, no friends!” You said as you tried your best to remember how to tie your yellow tie.

“What do you call Malfoy, then?” Theo asked from the bed.

“An accomplice,” you replied with that unique snark that Theo loved about you, “You need friends from other houses— Friends that aren’t just me.” You added those final words hastily before he could open his mouth in protest.

Theo rolled his eyes and beckoned you over. His hands glided over the folds of your tie with expertise, undoing the mess of a knot you’d created in order to do it up properly and perfectly. When he was done, he looked up at you with his gorgeous, oceanic eyes and the corners of his mouth where both his beautiful lips connected turned upwards. You uttered your thanks quietly as you resisted the primal urge to just not go to class at all and instead spend the whole day with him. Your mind wandered off to imagine being stuck between Theo’s checkered emerald sheets, but you brought it back to reality.

Fending off your lustful desires as well as a nun would, you bid adieu to Theo and hurried out of his room and the Slytherin common room. On your way out, you dodged the teasingly crude jokes and names that Theo’s friends tossed towards you and told Pansy that she was no better than yourself (you’d seen the way she snuck out of that empty classroom after Draco a couple days earlier, her hair and clothes all dishevelled and her thighs rubbing together uncomfortably).

The whole day, Theo dwelled on your words. While you weren’t exactly dating or in a relationship, he always found himself bound to your every word and every whim. You seemed to dictate his life in a way that you certainly shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but listen to you. So, in Arithmancy, he didn’t sit next to Blaise as he usually did, instead electing to sit with Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw girl he’d seen you talk to a few times.

She looked at him in confusion, “Did you need something?”

He withheld the instinct to say some snide remark and instead replied, “I thought I’d make a new friend today.”

“On some random Tuesday… in our Sixth year?” Her face contorted to expose her obvious disgust.

“Merlin’s cock and balls, I’m trying to be nice, Turpin!” Theo frowned and picked up his bag to go sit elsewhere.

Turpin grabbed his wrist as he stood up and her lips made a thin line as she pulled him back down to the seat. Her brows knitted together like a homemade sweater and she breathed out a sigh of defeat.

“No, it’s okay, sorry,” she said, “Sit here if you’d like.”

Over the next week, Theo made some serious efforts to get to know Turpin despite his friends’ obvious, loud verbal opposition. After that first Arithmancy class, Blaise had practically torn him to shreds with his massive speech on house loyalty and the horrible impact that you were clearly having on him. Daphne had recited the same speech her mother had given to her on her first day of her first year at school about how interrelations with students from the lesser houses was a gateway drug to blood sympathy (she’d given him the same speech when he started his little thing with you). And Pansy, Merlin’s beard, Pansy was furious.

Pansy had constructed this whole idea in her mind that you hated that Theo was talking to Turpin. She called it “cheating” which Theo had adamantly disagreed with. He wasn’t having sex with Turpin, in fact, he had absolutely zero romantic interest in her. He barely even liked her. The only thing the two had in common was Arithmancy and every time they hung out they talked about it until there was no more Arithmancy to talk about. It was, quite frankly, boring. Turpin was boring.

“It’s emotional cheating,” said Pansy in a huff as she and the others started towards the Great Hall for Monday breakfast.

“Emotional cheating?” Theo asked skeptically.

“Yes, Nott, emotional cheating,” she nodded, “And it’s hurting Y/n’s feelings. That’s why she hasn’t spoken to you all week.”

His gaze snapped to focus on Pansy whose black eyes were ablaze with the feminine rage of a girl’s best friend, “How do you know she hasn’t spoken to me all week?”

Pansy smirked, her honey red lipstick bright against her pale skin, and shrugged. She knew you hadn’t spoken to him all week because you wouldn’t shut up about it. In Divination on Wednesday afternoon, you’d all but assaulted Pansy with questions about Theo’s newfound interest in Turpin. All of which Pansy had no helpful responses to.

“Is he flirting with her?” You asked.

“Maybe, I don’t know, it’s not like they sit with us,” said Pansy, struggling to focus on the crystal ball with all your chatter.

“Why not? Why don’t they sit with you? Are they trying to be private?” You pushed almost frantically.

“Uh, possibly? Honestly, I just think he knows we don’t like her,” she explained.

“Why don’t you like her? Is she a bitch?” You frowned and then quickly added in a judgmental tone, “Or are you just being blood supremacists?”

“Is she a mudblood?” Pansy stopped working to stare at you.

You smacked her hand and she hissed, “I don’t know her that well. Don’t say that.”

When Theo and his friends finally arrived at the Great Hall, he searched the tables for your face. While most people usually stuck to their house’s table, you were a social butterfly and loved to flutter from table-to-table to talk to all of your many friends. Sometimes he wondered how you weren’t a prefect despite your popularity and the respect the younger years gave you. His eyes found Turpin first and she beamed and waved him over, but he blatantly ignored her. Pansy and Daphne watched on with delight as the girl cringed with embarrassment and turned back to her meal with bright red ears.

A spot of h/c hair floated above a robe lined with yellow and he abandoned his friends to go to you. You were standing at the end of the Hufflepuff table (not an unusual place to find you, but your favourite table was always the Slytherin one), and you were utterly consumed by a tale you were sewing for your housemates Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

“Y/n,” Theo spoke and his deep, smokey voice tore you straight out of your conversation, “Can we talk?”

Your eyebrows quivered and your blinking sped up as you took his appearance in for the first time all week. You hadn’t gone so long without speaking to him in at least three years (you got into an argument in your third year about the petrifications) and hearing his voice and seeing him so close was like throwing a former alcoholic into a sea of wine. There was nothing you wanted more than to indulge in him. But Hannah and Justin were glaring at him like hawks, or guard dogs, whichever was more intimidating.

“Um,” you glanced back at your friends and Hannah shook her head slightly, she’d never much liked Theo, “Sure.”

Hannah rolled her eyes and whispered something barely audible to Justin. Something about a “love-fucked pushover.” You ignored her. Theo took you to a pair of seats far from any prying ears and held your hands in his.

“You know I don’t like Turpin, right?” He said quietly.

You scoffed, “Yeah, right. And that’s why you spent all week with her.”

“I spent all week with her because you told me to!” He laughed with salt that spread itself over your wounded heart.

“Did I just? Because I really don’t remember saying ‘Hey, Theo, you know how I like you so much? I actually want you to go talk to another girl,’” you said sarcastically.

He held back a grin as best he could but the amusement glistened in his eyes and on his rosy, mole-spotted cheeks. His hand came up to your brow and massaged the frown out from between your eyebrows as you fluttered your eyelashes at him in the way you knew made him melt inside.

“I wanted to make friends for you,” he told you with that soft, romantic tone he used in bed.

“Don’t,” you ordered, “You’re Theodore Nott, you aren’t supposed to be friendly.”

For the first time in a week, he got a good look at you. He hadn’t realised how much he missed the sight of your h/l h/c hair and the way it framed your stunning face so perfectly that you appeared to have stepped right out of a portrait. He hadn’t realised how much he missed how your eyes, an elegant e/c and perpetually glossy as if always on the verge of tears, examined every centimetre of his face. He hadn’t realised how much he missed doing your tie up for you until he saw it tied like a bow around your neck.

“I’m friendly to you,” he said as his hands pulled at the end of the tie and it fell apart over your chest.

“And that’s all you need, I think,” you whispered pleasantly and pressed a loving kiss to his lips as he looped the tie around itself twice and pushed the end through the gap, tying it perfectly.

#theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott x reader #hp fandom #theo nott x y/n #slytherin x reader #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter x reader #theo nott imagine #theodore nott imagine #theo nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #regulus black x reader #tom riddle x reader

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shanastoryteller · 4 months

Note

Happy Juletide! Ron the ultimate wingman continuation?  

a continuation of 1 2

Ron has been excommunicated from the Gryffindor common room because Harry is still trying to kill him - he did the guy a favor, honestly - and so he stands around the library looking despondent and tall and maybe flexes a bit.

"Got lost?" Lisa Turpin asks, dark eyes amused.

He perks up. "Why, Lisa, I don't know what you mean. I am, of course, the studious sort."

She raises an eyebrow, but ignores that. "I heard from Daphne what you said to Draco."

"I'm also an altruist," he says. "Like all true martyrs, my sacrifices remain unappreciated."

She hums, flicking her eyes over him in a way that makes his cheeks flush despite his best attempt at stoicism. "Why don't you help me bring some books back to my dorm, Ronald?"

Score.

The staircase to the girls' dorms in Ravenclaw doesn't kick boys down them unless they're unescorted.

Rowena was one smart lady.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #harry potter

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lexamiele · 10 days

Text

I Think It's Time to Switch Roles

Multiple ending options: Mattheo Riddle x Reader or Tom Riddle x Reader

Word count: approx. 3.5k

Summary: Some boys get away with everything - especially Mattheo Riddle, Hogwarts's most notorious playboy. After he cheats on you, though, you decide it's high time he gets a taste of his own medicine. And who better to help you on this mission but his brother?

🎵: Like a Boy - Ciara

Warnings/be aware: mentions of cheating, playboy!Mattheo being playboy!Mattheo, ooc!Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle isn't Voldemort, Blaise is really mean in this fic sorry guys

Pics (ltr): mine, esaminiv on Pinterest here, Pinterest here

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You laid in bed, staring at the top of the canopy above you, your eyes full of tears. How could this have happened? The air streaming in from your dormitory window was cold, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to cover your body with a blanket, instead allowing your shivers to add to your misery. Sniffling, you wiped your tears, only to feel harder sobs take hold of your chest as you curled up into a sad little ball on top of your comforter.

You hadn’t even wanted to say yes to Mattheo Riddle in the first place. You should’ve listened to that voice in your head when he’d asked you to go with him to Slughorn’s holiday party, how could you have been so stupid? But between the “in” to the exclusive club that he’d provided you and the encouragement of your friends who thought he was hot, you’d cracked. Even though you’d heart the rumors – Mattheo Riddle was a player, he never stayed with anyone for longer than three dates, he was a chronic cheater – you told yourself that it was fine, you were only saying yes to one date. Then you found yourself saying yes to another, and another. By the end of the month, you and Mattheo were an item.

Or so you’d thought. He’d never said he was your boyfriend, but you’d believed that was at least the direction in which your relationship was heading. You studied together in the library multiple times a week, went to Hogsmeade together every time there was an outing, and you’d even worn his jersey to the last Quidditch game. After rough practices, you patched him up. He confided in you about his difficult home life and how he was trying to quit drinking so much, and you were his biggest supporter as he’d worked to break the habit. The two of you held hands when you were walking to classes or at parties and he never hesitated to pull you into a broom closet for a quick snog before the two of you went your separate ways throughout the day. You’d had everything but the title, essentially, and you’d fallen hard.

Then, that morning, you’d walked into the Great Hall for breakfast only to see him with his arm around Lisa Turpin, smirking as he whispered something into her ear…just like he’d done with you the day before.

Determined not to let him get away with it, you’d stormed towards their table, shouting, berating him, the whole nine yards. In return, he’d laughed in your face, telling you that the two of you had never really been in a relationship. According to him, he was free to flirt with whoever he liked. You’d rolled your eyes and called him some choice insults before storming off, only breaking down once you’d reached the safety of your dormitory.

You’d dealt with playboys and cheaters before, but nothing like this. Most of them were at least a little embarrassed of their behavior and tried to hide their tendencies. Mattheo, on the other hand, had been utterly blatant. Maybe you only had yourself to blame for not asking him whether he thought of himself as your boyfriend. But still – you’d think that after over a month of consistently going out on dates, holding hands, and snogging, he would’ve at least warned you before he started seeing someone else.

“I can’t stand him!” you shouted to no one in particular, alone in your dormitory. Sitting up abruptly, you hurled a pillow across the room in frustration, and then another. The image of Mattheo and Lisa together kept replaying in your mind. You were tempted to break down again, but you fought the urge.

If Mattheo was convinced that the two of you had never been in a relationship, you were going to show him just how right he was. You hadn’t even wanted to go out with him in the first place, after all. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you wiped away the remaining evidence of your tears, smoothing your hair and your robes. You could be just as unbothered as he was.

After a trip to the bathroom, where you’d washed your face and sorted yourself out, you spotted your textbooks in the corner of the bedroom. Your connection with Mattheo had distracted you from studying, with your desire to spend time with him overpowering your knowledge that you should be revising for Potions and Transfiguration. Well, that wasn’t a problem anymore. Stupid boys might fail you, but knowledge and stellar marks never would. Trying your best to hold your head high, you picked up your books and headed to the library.

Good for you, you told yourself. You could’ve stayed in bed crying all weekend, but you didn’t. You’re going to process all of this productively. You weren’t sure whether you believed it. Taking deep breaths in and out, you struggled to keep your emotions in check.

As you walked through the hallways, you felt the stares of your classmates who’d seen the events of that morning in the Great Hall. Pressing your lips together determinedly, you ignored them, your eyes straight ahead as you strode down the corridor. Your shoes tapped clearly against the stone floor as if to punctuate your determination.

Finally, you reached the library. Because it was the weekend, it was crowded with students in your year and the year above struggling to get their NEWT revising completed during the large chunk of free time. As more eyes lifted from books and pieces of parchment to focus on you, you escaped your fellow classmates through the stacks. Immersing yourself deeper in the library, you finally found yourself an empty table in solitude near the Restricted Section.

To your relief, you actually managed to study in peace for a few hours. The rhythmic nature of Ancient Runes translations helped to take your mind off your troubles and gave you a sense of accomplishment. You found a rhythm and also knocked out a short Charms essay before switching gears to Potions. Your life outside the stacks might have been chaos, but inside the library, there was only your brain turning and the scratching of your quill – peace. Unfortunately, your peace didn’t last forever.

As you outlined your Potions essay on a spare piece of parchment, a shadow passed across the table in front of you and you lifted your gaze to see none other than Tom Riddle in front of you.

Shoot.

Of all people to be exploring the depths of the library that day, one of them had to be Mattheo’s brother? Granted, with regards to temperament, it was difficult to tell that they were related. Mattheo was a partier and fell asleep in more lectures than he paid attention to, while Tom was an upstanding student, the Head Boy who was known for his perfect marks. But most of the time you’d spent around him had been while you were with Mattheo. Though he was known for being cold, Tom had been polite, even bordering on friendly, to you. You’d seen it as a great sign – his brother likes me! Maybe this will work out! Now, though, anything that reminded you of Mattheo – Tom included – made you want to scream. Fighting back tears, you struggled to ignore his presence, forcing your eyes back to the words on the page in front of you.

Thankfully, he disappeared into the stacks for a moment, but he was back soon enough, examining the options on the shelves ahead of you again. You bit your lip hard, needing some way to excise your irritation. Couldn’t he see that you were trying to concentrate? As his footsteps echoed through the Restricted Section, you reread the section you’d been trying to get through for the past five minutes in your textbook. Taking notes in an effort to force your brain to focus, you weren’t aware of how hard you were pressing the quill into the parchment until –

Snap.

“SERIOUSLY?”

You hadn’t intended to shout, but your exclamation as the pieces of your quill flew through the air attracted a harsh “sshhh!” from Madame Pince across the library, as well as the attention of one Tom Riddle. Sensing him staring at you, you felt even more flustered and covered your face with your hands in exasperation.

“Are you alright?”

You uncovered your eyes to see him watching you, looking mildly taken aback. His usual flat expression was complimented by a furrowed brow and slightly widened eyes. It was probably the first time you’d seen him look surprised by anything.

“I’m fine, Riddle.”

In the hopes that he would drop the subject and move on to whatever book he was looking for next, you began rifling through your bag, looking for another quill. You weren’t so lucky.

“You can just Reparo those, you know.”

You sighed. Of course he would choose this moment to make you look stupid.

“I know, but that involves getting up to get it,” you retorted, pursing your lips in frustration as you continued to search the depths of your bag for another quill.

“Accio.” In the blink of an eye, the bits of your snapped quill floated off the floor and sped towards Tom. He deposited them back on your table, raising an eyebrow.

“Right,” you sighed, feeling like an idiot. “Sorry. My brain must not be working today.”

“It’s nothing,” he replied evenly. He paused for a moment, then continued, his gaze connecting with yours. “I hope you’re alright.”

He didn’t sound particularly compassionate, but he didn’t seem sarcastic either. Nevertheless, you didn’t want to confront your feelings about the events of that morning, and definitely not in front of him. You shook your head, breaking the eye contact as you picked up the pieces of your broken quill and set them in front of you.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Riddle,” you stated firmly, waving your wand as you did so. Your quill reassembled itself in front of you, becoming useable again.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” he responded. “I merely thought that you seemed overwhelmed.” Your eyes widened in surprise.

“Did you not see…” you trailed off, your cheeks reddening in embarrassment. There was no way you could avoid talking about it now. “Did no one tell you about what your idiot brother did this morning?” He shrugged.

“My idiot brother does things ranging from unremarkable to awe-inspiringly ridiculous in character almost every day,” he answered dryly, pressing his lips together. “You’re going to have to be more specific.” You inhaled sharply.

“Your idiot brother spent all of breakfast cuddling and flirting with Lisa Turpin in front of me.”

“Oh.” Tom looked taken aback once again.

“Yeah.”

Your words hung in the air for a moment as he watched you.

“I’ll kill him.”

“I – what?” Tom and Mattheo were always bickering back and forth and disagreeing, but you’d kind of assumed that Tom would stick by his brother on this one. He didn’t seem like the sort of person who cared very much about preserving others’ feelings, considering the amount of times you’d heard about him leaving students who were caught out of bed past curfew quaking in their boots. Yet, the sudden intensity in his face sent shivers down your spine.

“I’ll kill him,” he repeated, his eyes connecting with yours again. He shook his head in frustration. “You were way too good for him. I told him it was time to grow up, to take something seriously for once. I suppose I shouldn't be shocked that he didn't listen."

“You…that's nice of you," you replied, a bit surprised that he would actually stand up for you like that. "Thanks." You shot him a sad little smile, your eyes welling up with tears. The reality that you and Mattheo were over hit you once again, and you let out a deep breath, trying to will yourself not to break down. You covered your face with your hands, but glanced back up as you heard Tom let out an aggravated sigh that echoed through the stacks.

“I hate that he’s like this,” he spat, shaking his head as he pulled the chair across from you out from under the table and sat down. “It’s like he has to make everything as difficult as possible.”

“It’s not just him,” you admitted, your gaze downcast. “The boys here are really awful.” Then you glanced up at him, remembering that he, too, was a Hogwarts boy. “No offense, of course.”

“None taken,” he drawled, letting out a little scoff. “They’re immature children, you should say so.” He paused, shaking his head. “My brother, though, he wakes up every morning and chooses to act this way, which is worse.”

“I thought it was just his coping mechanism,” you confessed, your trust in Tom growing with his own admittance. “I thought he’d finally shaken it for my sake…how could I be so stupid?”

“Don’t believe for a second that this is your fault.” Ordinarily it would’ve sounded comforting, but from his mouth, it sounded almost like a reprimand as he looked you sharply in the eye. “It’s his absurd behavior.” He ran a hand through his normally impeccable curls, and for a moment you couldn’t help but think that they looked better a little messy. “I wish I could get him to change, I just don’t know how.”

“The one puzzle the brilliant Tom Riddle can’t solve,” you joked without really thinking, but although he raised an eyebrow at you, there was no malice in it. “I’d love it if someone figured out how to knock some sense into him,” you added.

“One day, he’ll get his,” Tom remarked dryly. “I’d love to watch someone that he really likes do to him what he’s been doing to other people for years.”

Suddenly, something clicked, and you both stared at each other.

“Wait,” you began, a little smirk creeping up on your face. “Hear me out. I think I know how to teach your brother a lesson.”

“I’m listening.”

Brooms in hand, Mattheo, Blaise, and Theo exited the Slytherin Common Room, eager to start a game of Quidditch on the Hogwarts grounds before the afternoon sun slipped behind the clouds.

“Mate, Turpin was so into you this morning,” Blaise declared as they stepped through the door, which disappeared back into the wall behind them. “That was crazy, she’s so hot.”

Theo crinkled his nose. “Nah, that was weird, Matt. I thought you were still with Y/L/N.” Mattheo chuckled.

“Hey, I’m over that,” he responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I dunno where Y/L/N got the idea that we were together.” Theo shook his head.

“Just trying to keep up, man.”

“Hey, don’t knock his game!” Blaise interjected. “That was legendary.” Mattheo grimaced.

“Calm down, mate,” he interjected, glancing at Blaise this time. “I – “ He paused suddenly, his mouth snapping shut.

“What?” Blaise asked, looking back over toward his friend in confusion. Following Mattheo’s line of sight, he realized exactly what had stolen the air from his lungs.

You stood with your back against the cold, brick wall of the dungeons, biting your lip as your eyes danced flirtatiously in the dim light. In front of you, leaning against the wall was none other than Tom Riddle, who smirked as you whispered something in his ear. As you giggled, he placed a hand on your waist, his thumb stroking the bare skin of your back underneath your top.

“What in the name of Salazar is this?” Mattheo roared, storming towards the two of you. You couldn’t help but let out a real giggle as he stormed towards you, and you turned your head to acknowledge him as Tom continued to pin you against the wall.

“Oh, hi Matty,” you greeted innocently as Tom finally stood back up to allow you to sink your teeth in. “How are you? Lovely day out, isn’t it?”

“What are you doing with him?” Mattheo demanded, gesturing violently at his brother.

“Oh, well Tom and I have been getting on quite well,” you answered, continuing to bait him with your act.

“I can see that,” he retorted furiously, turning to his brother. “What’re you doing, having a go at Y/N?”

“I can do whatever I like, seeing as you’re with Turpin,” Tom stated evenly.

“But Y/N and I were…were…” You grinned smugly as he fumbled with his words. His gaze snapped back to you. “You can’t just snog me, and then go off and snog my brother!”

“We haven’t been snogging, Matty.” You widened your eyes, batting your lashes at him. Hook, line, and sinker. “Besides, since we were never dating or anything, I figured you wouldn’t have a problem with me and Tom spending some time together. Was I wrong?”

Mattheo’s face contorted as he sputtered, struggling for an excuse that he couldn’t find. You snuck a glance at Tom, who was looking back at you with interest.

“You can’t do this,” Mattheo declared angrily.

“What?” you asked sweetly before your eyes darkened. “Act like you did?”

His face fell, and he didn’t even have to say anything for you to know that he’d finally cracked. He let out a heavy breath of concession, shaking his head.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he said sincerely, running a hand through his chronically messy hair. “You got me, I really messed up. Can you forgive me?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow, your hand on your hip.

“That depends, are you going to keep making moves on Turpin or whoever?”

“Lisa Turpin was a huge mistake!” he pleaded. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. We got too flirty when we talked and I just got caught up. I’ll never do it again.”

MATTHEO ENDING

You took a deep breath. You hadn’t considered what you would do if your plan with Tom actually worked – should you take Mattheo back? Did he deserve it?

“Will you be my boyfriend? And date me, and only me?” You watched him seriously. “I won’t keep running back to you, Mattheo. If you can’t commit to me, we’re done.”

“I should’ve committed to you ages ago,” he replied ardently, stepping towards you. You hesitated slightly, but didn’t back away. “You’re the one for me, Y/N. I just…we got so close so quickly, and I got scared. I should never have pushed you away. You’ll never need to keep running back to me. I’ll do all the work to keep you from here on out, I promise you that.”

You took a deep breath. As difficult as it would be to trust him again, you felt like he deserved one more chance.

“It’s going to take some time for me to trust you again, Matty,” you murmured, stepping closer to him and taking his hands in yours. “But I want to try. I- I’ll give you another chance.”

He hugged you fiercely, clinging to you as though he was terrified someone would take you from him.

“Thank you,” he breathed, his eyes welling up with emotion. “I don’t deserve it. I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you, Y/N.”

You kissed his forehead gently, running your hand through his curls. “We should talk some more,” you suggested. He nodded in agreement.

“Let’s go to my room,” he said. Taking your hand in his, he stepped away, but turned back to face Tom after a moment. “If you ever do that again, I will kill you.”

“Like you could if you wanted to,” Tom replied, shooting his brother a withering look.

As the two of you passed by Mattheo’s friends, you glared at Blaise. You’d overheard parts of their conversation echoing down the hall as you and Tom had executed your plan, and it took great willpower on your part to hold yourself back from flattening Zabini where he stood. You could’ve sworn you saw him let out a tremor of fear.

TOM ENDING

You let out a deep breath. He sounded so sincere, so heartbroken. But he’d also turned the tables on you in less than a day – one day he couldn’t wait to spend time with you, and the next he was snuggled up to someone else in front of everyone. Your lip curled, and you shook your head.

“I can’t trust you, Mattheo,” you said firmly. “And without trust, our ‘not-relationship’ or whatever we had means nothing. I’m sure I’ll forgive you in time, but I won’t have you back.”

“Please, Y/N,” he begged. “I should have committed to you long ago. All I want is to be your boyfriend, to be yours.” He took another step towards you. “I need you.”

You would’ve given so much to hear those words the day before, but with the image of him and Lisa Turpin together burned into your mind, they seemed so meaningless. Besides, you’d realized while executing this plan that there was a boy at Hogwarts who was exactly what you were looking for. Tom was focused and intelligent, and way more mature than anyone you’d had feelings for before, Mattheo included. Even though you’d planned the whole thing out, there’d definitely been a spark between the two of you a moment ago – the flirtatious look in his eyes had felt so real and his touch was addicting.

Normally, you wouldn’t even consider something like this – fancying Tom after going out with Mattheo seemed wrong. But after what Mattheo had done, you reasoned, anything was on the table.

“No, Mattheo,” you responded, shaking your head. “I hope you take this as a lesson. Treat Turpin or whoever you end up with right, and don’t take people for granted. You’ve lost me, Matty.”

He stared at you coldly, the sadness on his face replaced with emptiness. “Fine. Suit yourself, Y/N.” He paused, looking between you and Tom. “But that little stunt that you two pulled? That was messed up.”

You felt frustration and anger rise in your chest again. Maybe your plan hadn’t been the most straightforward strategy, but it was a last resort. Besides, what he’d done to you was the definition of messed up. Stepping forward, a little smirk spread across your face as your patience snapped.

“You want to know what’s messed up, Mattheo?” you murmured, centering yourself in front of him and lowering your voice to a whisper.

“I think I like your brother better.”

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo x you #Tom riddle #tom riddle x reader insert #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #slytherin boys #blaise zabini #theodore nott #slytherins #slytherin boys fic #ooc tom riddle

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mediocre-daydreams · 1 year

Text

𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐲, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐲, 𝐨𝐨𝐡-𝐥𝐚-𝐥𝐚

james potter x Seer!reader

summary: james keeps showing up in your readings, so the logical conclusion is you must be horrible at divination. (inspired by "kissy kissy" - isaac dunbar)

w/c: 6.8k

notes: she/her, reader in denial and james is Boy™ about expressing his feelings, hypothetical violence, reader self-friendzoning, first fic in like 3 months + not proofread so go easy on me pls and ily

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

nice to meet ya, i'm pleased 'cause i've seen you around in my astral projections i'm a mess, i'm obsessed, overdressed for you dear, this is my, my confession

there was a reason you weren’t a ravenclaw, and as you sat in front of this damned crystal ball, it was becoming increasingly evident why.

“i have Seen limitless potential amongst this group…” sybill trelawney crooned, waving her hand around in exaggerated loops. “now, relax those conscious minds and tap into your Inner Eyes to see what truly lives beyond this surface reality…”

you weren’t really sure how to access your Inner Eye. you let your eyes—your normal ones—flicker sideways to james, who seemed just as perturbed.

james looked out of place in the bright divination classroom. he hadn’t bothered untangling his bedhead and his glasses were smudged in the corners, which always seemed to bother you more than it did him. he was discreetly rebuttoning his crooked shirt and sneaking glances over his shoulder to avoid trelawney’s “all-knowing eye.”

your best friend was undeniably pretty, this you knew. even with his eyebrows furrowed and the skin on his lips beginning to peel from the harsh november air, you could practically feel the admiring gazes and swooning stares from around the room directed at james’ back—and you, by association—instead of the crystal balls the class was meant to be studying.

“alright, ‘m sorry about that, sweetheart!” james’ head popped up and he smiled at you with too much energy for so early in the morning. “ready to gaze?”

you scoffed. “please, i’ve already Seen your entire life in the time it took you to button your shirt.” you squinted at the hazy glass as you pretended to glean a message from the future.

“well, what do you see?” james shuffled closer like he’d only be able to see the same imaginary image if his thigh was touching yours.

“how interesting…” you tsked, extending a cautious hand to touch the glass. “it looks like you’re lying on the ground-”

“well, i’ve always loved naps-”

“-but you’re screaming! oh wow, you’re thrashing around too. you’re being eaten! by a big… black… dog!”

sirius’ head whipped around. he winked when he caught your eye. “it looks like we’ve got ourselves a Seer!” he announced. “c’mon, See something for us!”

james laughed, elbowing you encouragingly as you rolled your eyes. divination was no one’s favorite subject (except maybe lisa turpin’s, who was either a very gifted Seer or a very convincing fraud) and you often found yourself passing time in class by conjuring ridiculous predictions with the marauders.

you turned to your crystal ball and tried to muster up a shred of seriousness, but all you could hear was lisa turpin muttering something in the back of the classroom. godric, she had such an annoying voice. it wasn’t like you cared about divination or anything, but lisa turpin was such a stuck-up teacher’s pet and trelawney always fell for it; you were pretty sure she was lying anyway, and—

trelawney’s eyes appeared in the reflection of your crystal ball and you jerked back with a shriek, frightened by the buglike quality of her glasses further warped by the ball’s distortion. two strong hands wrapped around your biceps and anchored you in place.

“sybill! i’m so sorry, you really- i-” you huffed, pressing a hand to your racing heart. “i got caught up in my… reading.”

“not to worry, dear,” trelawney mused, patting your shoulder. she didn’t so much as look down at you as she spoke. “it appears i was right… we do have a Seer among us… now, why don’t you take a look into your ball? yes, do bless us with your premonition…”

you shook the hands off your biceps—james’ hands—and tried to smile at trelawney. it probably looked more like a grimace.

lisa turpin’s scathing look of jealousy did not calm your on-the-spot nerves. you widened your eyes at james. for a second you saw a resemblance between his large, circular frames to trelawney’s curved, oversized lenses.

james raised his eyebrows in silent communication. “just make something up.”

“what do i say?” you panicked and the corners of your lips twitched up and down.

“uh, predict something really horrible,” james mouthed. “like… tell her that pads kills me, but make it gorier and more devastating this time. also, do i look good with scars? i’ve heard girls love it when i guy is half dead and covered in blood.”

you felt a smile tugging at your mouth and you shook off the flutter of butterfly wings that james’ cheeky suggestion lit in your stomach. leaning closer to the crystal ball, you pretended to See, waving your hands around as mysteriously as you could for dramatic effect.

“i see something!” you declared, much to trelawney’s delight. you hummed, tilting your head as you pretended to look more intently. “it looks like…”

to your surprise, the hazy center of the crystal ball began shifting, almost like a white cloud of finely ground floo dust was being blown and scattered into the air. two figures, almost familiar, emerged from the dust and began approaching each other from either sides of the ball with smooth, confident strides. you frowned. of course you’d “seen” things in divination before, like a three-legged cat in your tea leaves or a tic-tac-toe board in the creases of someone’s palm, but nothing with such clarity. it was much more frightening having your first experience under the scrutinizing gaze of trelawney and lisa turpin.

the two figures began fading away and you were glad that the anomalous Sight had finally left you alone. you cleared your throat, prepared to make up some tragedy that would appeal trelawney—

two hands, one small and one large, had taken focus in the center of the crystal ball. you looked behind you. there were no intertwined hands culpable of casting a reflection. tendrils of graceful smoke morphed into fingers that interlocked until the hands folded in on themselves had suddenly become lips… lips that were brushing against each other, gently at first, before diving forward with heat and vigor. you weren’t sure whose steamy makeout session you were predicting, but it was an awful time to be thinking about these sorts of things. you couldn’t stop the tingling on your own lips and a thunderous roar in your own ears as you stared, transfixed, at the scene before you…

“-y’ alright? still there? …hey, sweetheart?” james’ hushed voice roused you from your gazing. you jolted into the present and felt those steadying hands on your biceps once more; instead of shaking him off this time, you let yourself cross your arms over your chest and cover his hands with yours. you pressed your lips into a flat smile at james and then directed it toward trelawney, who was still waiting eagerly for a report.

“i saw, uh,” you stammered, unwilling to divulge the true nature of your Sight. “i saw a dying man. yeah, it was really, really sad. he was being torn apart by a rabid dog—a big, ugly one—and there was blood everywhere!” you snuck a glance at james, who winked at you and squeezed your muscles encouragingly. “oh, it was terrible. i’m feeling really worn out and- and lightheaded after Seeing that. i think i should lay down… don’t want to overdo it…”

professor trelawney nodded, solemn but understanding. “wonderful job, dear. how honored i am to have another Seer this year… i look forward to seeing where you go… now, let’s get back to gazing, class!” trelawney lingered for a moment, staring down at you fondly, before making her way to sirius and peter’s table with a disapproving frown already loaded and prepared.

“ you’ve got the Sight, now, have you?” james teased, his frustratingly attractive grin growing with each fervent shake of your head.

“merlin, not this again-”

“what does my future hold, O great and omniscient Seer?” james pressed the palms of his hands together in a begger’s pose and leaned into your side, resting his head on your shoulder. his unruly curls tickled the bare skin at the base of your neck. the poor boy must not have slept well last night.

“you’re not funny, potter,” you grumbled. you said this each time he poked fun at trelawney’s fondness toward you and each time he ignored it.

“yes, i am.” james cozied his head further into your shoulder. you shivered involuntarily. “i know you think i’m funny. everyone thinks i’m funny. even evans thinks i’m funny.”

of course, james had to go and mention lily evans.

there was nothing wrong with lily evans. in fact, there was nothing about lily evans that could be described as less than lovely. you could see why james was so taken with her—she was clever and hardworking and kind. she was beautiful, too.

you felt your smile falter and you plastered on a new one, albeit very unconvincingly. “lily!” you exclaimed with false excitement. “oh yeah, she’s wonderful. i wonder what she’s Seeing?”

sitting not far from you, lily and marlene seemed undisturbed by your macabre prediction and james’ foolery. you watched as lily lightly tapped the surface of the crystal ball with a well-manicured finger. marlene giggled at whatever it was they Saw; she leaned over and scribbled something on lily’s divination journal.

lily caught your eye and blushed. you waved awkwardly, feeling heat creep up your neck from being caught staring. you felt james’ chest vibrate as he chuckled gently behind you. james shot up and removed his head from your shoulder when he noticed lily’s attention directed toward the two of you. he fixed his posture, shifting himself until his thigh was no longer touching yours. james nodded in acknowledgement to the two girls and you watched as lily’s smile grew.

it was cruel, you thought. it was cruel of james to make you feel this way, but mostly, it was cruel that you got upset every time the two of them seemed happy. they were two of the best people you knew—who wished discontent upon their friends? maybe that was what distinguished lily from you… lily wouldn’t be resentful if she were in your shoes.

“what’s goin’ on?” james muttered. where his head had once rested was now his warm, wandering hand, rubbing and massaging your shoulders. “you’re tense all of a sudden.” james’ other hand cupped your cheek and guided your head around to face him. his lower lip jutted (and you tried to ignore that) as his eyes searched yours. “is something wrong? did you actually see something just then?”

you swallowed hard and tried not to choke on your own saliva. yes, there was something deeply wrong, you wanted to say. it was wrong of you to feel this way toward your best friend, especially when he was feeling this way—feeling love—for someone else.

you cleared your throat. “all good, james.” you pushed his hands off you and grabbed your divination journal, holding it between your and james’ body like a shield.

“moony, can i copy your divination homework?” james slumped onto one of the common room couches; coincidentally, the same one you were already occupying. his head landed heavy in your lap. james sighed contentedly as he tucked his hands behind his mass of hair, fingers brushing against your thighs.

“no,” remus deadpanned, rolling his eyes at james. no, not just james… james on your lap. james and you, you and james, james was on top of you… remus needed to-

“cut it out!” you yelped, grabbing two fistfulls of james’ hair in shock. “you’re tickling me!”

james’ fingers twitched from beneath his head, sending another wave of shivers through your body that you were pretty sure james could feel. “i’m not tickling you,” james frowned.

“yes, you are!” you tugged at james’ wrists, exhaling in relief as soon as his hands were no longer touching your legs. “you’re being touchy today,” you noted. “what’s up with that?”

“am i not allowed to touch my favorite girl?” james pouted, batting his eyelashes innocently.

“no, because you’re making me…”

“shy?” james suggested.

“uncomfortable?” remus countered.

“oh, merlin!” james practically lept out of his skin. “i’m so sorry! i wasn’t making you uncomfortable, was i?”

you melted at the worry in his voice. “nah,” you admonished, wrinkling your nose, “you’re fine. come back here.” in all honesty, you were more than fine with james’ head on your lap. there was nothing sexual about it; physical affection had always been a facet of your and james’ relationship. you rather liked it, actually. if you could, you’d like to be able to hold james forever. but he could never know that.

“wait,” james said suddenly, falling into your side and grabbing your arm, which he seemed to be doing a lot these days. “have you done the divination homework? can i copy yours, please?”

“why, did remus already say no?”

james had the decency to look guilty.

“well, normally i’d let you, but the homework is supposed to be analyzing palmistry data from last class. did you- did you not do that?”

james frowned and looked down at his hand. “what does trelawney even want me to write; ‘james potter has ugly quidditch callouses?’”

“you have to analyze someone else’s palm, idiot,” marlene chimed in from across the common room. “just make something up if you have to. that’s what i did with lily.”

james looked down at his hand thoughtfully and then at yours. “you’ll be my palmistry partner, right, sweetheart?”

“don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me, potter, i’m not helping you with divination ag-”

“thank you!” james cried, throwing his arms around you and burying his head in your chest, forgetting all about his previous inhibitions. you fumbled backward on the couch until your back was pressed flat against the cushions, james on top of you and hanging onto your torso.

you could feel james’ heart pounding through the fabric of his shirt. his body was warm all over. poor james. he must’ve been really nervous about his divination homework.

“you’re the best friend ever,” james said, his voice muffled as he remained face-down, pressed against your side with no intention of moving.

marlene raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “‘best friend,’ my ass,” she mouthed to sirius.

sirius waved his hand dismissively. “his words, not mine.”

you chastised james as best as you could with your respiratory abilities compromised. he clambered off you and extended a gentlemanly hand he used to tug you upright.

instead of letting your hand go, he turned it over and splayed your fingers until your palm was exposed, facing upright and nestled in his larger one.

“you have nice hands,” james commented absentmindedly. “they’re a good size.”

“for what?” you stiffened as james began rubbing slow circles into the center of your palm, suddenly hyper-aware of how intimate your touches had become.

“for holding,” james said. he was silent for a moment as he traced your life line. you didn’t speak. you didn’t dare breathe. james’ thumb was tracing the creases in your palm because he was completing an overdue assignment, not because he was admiring the way your skin looked against his. his touch was soft because he was your friend, not because he was caressing you like a lover, you had to remind yourself.

“okay,” you responded stupidly.

“yeah, okay.” james cleared his throat. “for holding and- and for palmistry, of course. you’re still gonna be my palmistry girl, right?”

he ran his hands through his hair sheepishly, fighting a couple knots at the back of his head. james was whispering to himself, dragging the nail of his pinkie finger along the lines on your palm, like a cartographer mapping out a foreign land he was afraid to one day forget. there was a part of you that ached to tilt his chin up so he could memorize the planes of your face instead—and so you might do the same—but the part of you that treasured your friendship with james won. it always did.

“pass my bag, please?” james murmured, tapping your knee with his free hand. with a flick of your wrist, you summoned his divination journal.

“wandless magic,” marlene laughed in astonishment. “remind me why you aren’t a ravenclaw?”

you huffed. “well, i’m no good at riddles and i-”

“-oh, you’re plenty smart!” lily interrupted. you felt your heart sputter. “i mean it; you’re the only person who’s properly predicted anything in divination.”

lily sounded so earnest that you felt a stab of guilt pass through your chest. you weren’t actually good at divination—all you’ve ever seen was gibberish—and right now you were distracting james from spending time with the girl he’d been pining after for years who had just began to tolerate him.

“-and what are you doing, james?” lily asked, cutting through your spiraling thoughts.

a few beats of motionlessness from james prompted you to scratch his head to catch his attention. james seemed to startle momentarily before glancing up at you and lily shyly, cheeks slightly flushed and tongue swiping over his teeth.

“yeah, hi lily!” james blurted, blinking a few times to come to his senses. “i’m- we’re just doing divination stuff… palmistry and whatnot.”

james was all of a sudden much less confident and you felt a second knife of guilt cut through your conscience. you wanted to be the one flustering him. but that wasn’t a very kind thing to wish upon someone, was it? the guilt ate at you again—oh, how you wanted to be selfish and have your best friend all to yourself; but you couldn’t, not without tearing him and lily apart and not without ruining the most important relationship in your life, platonic may it be.

“no offense, but i’ve never seen you so dedicated to homework. and divination, of all things! did trelawney say something to you, or what?” lily shifted her weight to one leg and quirked her head, examining james.

“i thought you’d be glad to see me doing my work, evans,” james said, “you’re always nagging me about it.”

lily rolled her eyes, grinning. “you act like i enjoy nagging you. if nobody reminded you, i’m fairly sure you would’ve failed out of being quidditch captain. though, it looks like it’s not my responsibility anymore.” lily jutted her head toward you.

“yep! that’s me,” you smiled fakely, feeling second to lily once again. “so, what does my palm say?”

james turned back toward you. “right, right! so, you have the mount of jupiter, which means you have a connection to…” james peered over his shoulder at his divination textbook. “you’ve got a connectioin to the spiritual realm and divine aptitudes.” james looked pleased with himself. “hey, i figure that’s a pretty accurate reading! you’re good at divination, after all.

“hm… i think your head line is saying you let your doubts get in the way of seeing what’s actually in front of you. maybe that you fixate on what you think you know, and that prevents you from learning and growth? and…

“ooh-la-la! you’ve got a deep heart line.” james waggled his eyebrows at you. “who’s the special someone?”

you clicked your tongue. “and you were on such a roll too. nope, there’s nobody for me.”

james seemed much too cheerful at your pitiful state of loveless solitude.

“merlin, will you at least pretend to feel bad for me?” you said in acknowledgement of james’ eager expression. you loved james, but sometimes his enthusiasm shone at the wrong moments.

“no, that’s not what i-” james started. “okay, but look. your heart line really is deep. i would know; mine is too.”

“but james, you’re a hopeless romantic. everyone adores you. i’m not exactly the mushy gushy type.”

james scoffed. “oh please, plenty of people like you! what about that twat from hufflepuff- what was his name? joshua matthews?”

you looked at james, unimpressed.

“okay, i know i didn’t like him at the time… but who the hell has two first names instead of a normal surname? hey, there was also anthony abbott in third year and winston clearwater last year.”

“right, well that’s what you think. how come none of them ever asked me out, huh?” you rebutted. you weren’t that self-deprecating. you knew you were pretty and you knew that joshua matthews for sure liked you, but there was no explanation as to why, in your five years at hogwarts, nobody had ever asked you out.

“well, maybe they-” james seemed to lose momentum. “maybe they were just… intimidated?”

“wait, am i scary?” you stressed.

“no! they’re just cowards. all of ‘em. anyone who can’t tell you how they really feel… well, there’s a reason none of them were in gryffindor,” james laughed awkwardly. “yeah, that’s pretty cowardly of them. that’s why you deserve way better, sweetheart.”

“right, james.” you drawled in a way james knew you didn’t believe him. “it’s whatever. i didn’t really care for them too much anyway.”

do you see me or hear me, just give me a sign i just want your attention Teenage Dream on repeat as i stare into space write your name in my journal (i should burn it, right?)

you were going to toss yourself out the girl’s dormitory window. you were pretty high up; you figured the tower was high enough to at least knock you out long enough for you to forget this very, very bad dream.

well, the dream was only bad because it was so good.

in your dream, you had been in the quidditch stands with paint on your cheeks and a hoarse voice from screaming; your mittens were in your pockets so that you could clap louder. maybe if you clapped loud enough, your boyfriend, james potter, would hear you over the deafening crowd. you had tucked your nose into the scarf around your neck, hiding the evidence of last night’s activities, and breathed in james’ cologne.

you could not handle this today.

“what’s going on up there?” lily was perched on the wooden foot of her bed, brushing her long, ginger locks with all the grace of a fairytale princess. “in your head, i mean.”

you realized you’d been sitting upright on your bed and staring into space for probably a few minutes now, stuck in your daydream continuation of last night’s horrendous, disgusting, absolutely revolting fantasy.

“nothing,” you brushed off. “i’m just dreading divination. i bet trelawney’s gonna make me do a reading in front of the class or something.”

“well, at least it won’t be spontaneous,” marlene said. “we’re doing our dream journals today. you can just read whatever you wrote. bam, easy.”

oh yeah, you definitely could not handle this today.

like the cherry on top of a curdled ice cream sundae, you arrived to divination two minutes late. normally, that wouldn’t have been a big deal. (plus, you were trelawney’s new favorite and she was bound to let you off easy.) well, it was a big deal today. everybody else had found their seats, and as always, james had saved the one next to him for you. it wasn’t as if you could simply take another seat, not when he was looking at you with those eyes.

“mornin’ jamie,” you whispered, stealing a glance at the blushing boy as you dug through your satchel for your dream journal. “d’you wake up late too? looks like you’ve just run across the castle.”

james clapped his hands to his cheeks. “what, am i red?”

“a little,” you admitted, pinching one of his cheeks gently. “don’t worry about it. you’re cute.”

james went even darker. the poor boy must’ve had a rough morning too. perhaps he’d eaten the jalepeño omlettes at breakfast today instead of his usual spinach ones.

“what’d i miss?” you absentmindedly recorded the dream you’d had in your journal as trelawney lectured on about interpretation and her latest prediction.

james shrugged. “not much. lisa turpin tried sitting next to me, but don’t worry, i fended her off. i’m pretty sure she wants to peel off and wear your skin, if i’m to be honest. she’s been vying for trelawney’s attention all year.”

“james,” you teased, “i’m pretty sure it’s because she has a crush on you.”

“a crush? on little old me?” james pressed his hand to his heart and looked at you pointedly. “there’s no way. you know my heart will only ever belong to one.”

that was true. james, unlike sirius, wasn’t the type to flirt shamelessly or sleep around, though he could if he wanted. james was one of those kids who grew up on happily-ever-afters instead of beetle the bard. even today, he was a vehement defender of true love and soulmates and fate, and you weren’t sure if that was admirable or naive.

“don’t underestimate yourself, pretty boy. every girl in our class—no, probably in the whole school—has liked you at some point.”

james went quiet and for a moment you thought trelawney was behind you. (she was not.)

“every girl?” james swallowed thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing. perhaps he needed a drink of water, you thought. “uh, including you?”

your teasing smile faded. “i mean, i-”

“-now, let’s get started on our interpretations, shall we?” trelawney interrupted loudly, and it seemed your luck was turning up for the first time this morning. “shall we first try an example? how about… you, my darling?” to your horror, trelawney waved her fabric-draped arm toward you, bangles clinking together and drawing the entire classroom’s attention toward your mortified expression. unlucky again; it seemed you’d spoken too soon.

you did a quick scan of the room and then a quick scan of what you’d written in your journal. shit. fuck. shit. there was no way you could read this out loud, especially not while sitting next to james.

fuck! shit! fuck! you were sitting next to james, who could definitely see the writing on the page. you slammed your journal shut and looked up at trelawney, frenzied. “um, could somebody else read their journal, please?” you managed to croak out.

trelawney looked slightly disappointed, but obliged. “miss mckinnon, why don’t we hear from you?”

you refused to look at james. your eyes were glued to your lap as you listened to marlene clear her throat. “well, the gist of it was that gryffindor won the quidditch cup by around 200 points, which was sick, but i analyzed something else. it was really interesting, actually. y’know, i couldn’t tell i was dreaming until i woke up because it was all so realistic-”

“please stay focused,” trelawney said, the corner of her mouth twitching.

“right! sorry, professor. anyway, james was actually in my dream—yeah, hey james—” marlene said, waving in your direction, “and i’m gonna be honest, he wasn’t looking too great. super muddy and sweaty and stuff; he’s always kinda gross after games… regardless, you didn’t seem to mind.”

marlene wasn’t even trying to be subtle. she pointed a finger at you and waved it in a small circle. “yeah, the two of you had no complaints when you started eating each other’s faces off. it was such a nightmare, professor. i was having such a good time celebrating our win and then, of course, it just had to be ruined by bloody james potter and-”

trelawney cut off marlene, red-faced and unprepared. “good job, miss mckinnon; thank you for your contribution. why don’t we speak after class?”

there was a low wave of “oooh”s and hushed gossip, but trelawney shut that down as well. “no, miss mckinnon, you’re not in trouble. i’m simply curious; you seem to excel at dream work. many students-” trelawney coughed pointedly, “overlook its usefulness… dreams are a direct gateway to the subconscious, and oftentimes our Inner Minds are wiser and more perceptive than we think. you’ve done a good job, miss mckinnon; quite accurate. you have a wonderful mind and impressive clarity. this will take you far.”

marlene was smug as she settled into her cushion and elbowed lily. lily bit her bottom lip as she tried to conceal a laugh. after swallowing their amusement, the two girls looked in the direction of you and james. well, more so james. you weren’t sure if either lily or marlene could actually see you. you had shrunk into yourself in your embarrassment and you prayed you were no longer visible to the curious class.

it didn’t matter though, not really, because you were still visible to the one person whose opinion mattered most. you were seated, transfixed and frozen, right next to james, who seemed equally as taken aback. your heart was thudding so violently you thought it might grow wings, expel itself from your throat, and land in a bloody, drooly puddle on your lap. that might actually be less embarrassing than this, whatever this was.

and you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows when you noticed lily’s eyes still glued on james. her straight brows were raised so high they formed creases on her forehead and you felt a second wave of shame overtake you. lily must’ve been heartbroken. not only had marlene told the entire class about her dream, but she’d done so while sitting next to lily, who’d been clearly pining after james for months now. you knew marlene and lily were friends. what was that all about?

james pushed his hair back from his face and adjusted his glasses. he seemed equally as flustered as you, if not more. james’ eyes flickered between lily and marlene and ever so often his nervous hands would come back up to his face and fiddle with something—a stray curl, an itch on the back of his neck, or the tip of his pinkened nose.

“i need to use the loo!” you jumped to your feet, declaring your bladder’s needs much louder than necessary. trelawney shooed you with a dismissive hand and you scrambled past sirius and remus’ table, pretending not to notice their trailing stares on your back.

you didn’t actually need to use the loo. clarification: you didn’t have to pee. you entered a stall anyway. waves of nausea had been coming and going ever since james had caught sight of what was written inside your journal, and it was better to be safe than sorry, right? the only thing that could make today worse was if you hurled all over your uniform.

your hands were trembling as you rubbed your eyes and took a shaky breath. how were you supposed to recover from this? at this point, it wasn’t just your relationship with james on the line, but lily’s feelings too. and, if the situation escalated, you could risk losing sirius, remus, and peter to the awkwardness between you and james. you loved marlene, you truly did, but damn if you didn’t want to jinx her off her broom during the next quidditch game.

your misery must’ve made the time pass faster, because soon after your classroom escape, you heard the bustling of students pushing their way through the corridors to their next classes. you kept your head down as a couple girls streamed into the bathroom, chatting freely and checking their reflections, and hoped not to be spoken to.

“hey, you’re that girl from divination, right?” some hufflepuff caught your elbow before you made it to the door. “the one mckinnon had a dream about?”

“uh, yep. that’s me.” you pursed your lips and tried to look like you weren’t on the verge of murdering marlene.

“aw, i knew it! i just have to say, you and james are like, the cutest ever. i’m kind of jealous. victoria over there-” the hufflepuff tilted her head toward a ravenclaw girl leaving over a sink and re-applying her lipstick, “-was totally freaking out when i told her about it. she’s had a crush on sirius for like, ever. do you think you could introduce her?”

you shut your mouth as soon as you realized you were gawking. “wait, sorry, i’m a little lost. you want me to introduce you to sirius?”

“yeah, ‘cause sirius is more likely to listen to his mate’s girlfriend, right?” the hufflepuff said.

“wait, james and i aren’t together—no, marlene just had a really weird dream. we’re friends. been friends forever. only friends. plus, james is all over lily evans, so…”

“lily evans?” victoria hummed as she smudged her lipstick with her finger. “i thought lily didn’t like james. she’s always looking at him like she’s judging him.”

“‘cause she’s probably checking him out,” you countered.

“there’s no way,” the hufflepuff argued. “she’s been rejecting him since second year. she’s like, never shown any interest in him at all.”

“i mean, i dunno. but i should probably go to my next class.” you patted your side to check for your satchel. it wasn’t there. you must’ve left it in the classroom. “and i’ve gotta go get my bag—sorry, but it was nice talking to you!”

you heard the girls giggling as you rushed out of the bathroom.

the crowd of students had thinned out from when the bell first rang; you took the stairs to the divination tower two at a time. as you hoisted yourself up through the trapdoor, you remembered what trelawney had said just before you ran out.

“…our Inner Minds are wiser and more perceptive than we think. you’ve done a good job, miss mckinnon; quite accurate.”

what did she mean by that? the dream wasn’t accurate by any means—you’d never kissed james before (though you would not at all be opposed to it). everyone knew trelawney was a bit off her rocker, and you’d never taken divination seriously, but there was something undeniably odd about this situation. what were the chances you’d have the exact same dream as marlene?

“hey…” the voice behind you send a dreadful creep of goosebumps down your arms. “you missed the rest of class.”

you turned around slowly, like a character who was about to die in a low-budget horror movie. “james?”

“yeah?” james stood in front of you, holding the strap of your bag with an outstretched arm and looking unusually shy.

“um, yeah. i was in the bathroom.” you sighed, mustering the last of your sense of normalcy. “so, what’d i miss?”

“we finished our dream analysis and trelawney assigned us an essay on dream symbolism; two pages. you… uh, you left your journal out so i packed it for you. i hope that’s okay.”

“wow! that’s so- thanks, james. that’s so kind of you. thanks.” you stammered, reaching out to take your bag from his offering hand. james’ knuckles were pale, and when he released his grip, there were faint indents from how tightly his fist had held the strap.

“you’re welcome,” james said dully. “i guess we should get going, right? to class, and all.”

“yep. yeah, to class.”

there was a heavy silence between the two of you, during which neither of you moved. james’ eyes were boring into yours and rather than making you uncomfortable, it felt like he was seeing right through your thinly stretched facade of faux-platonic feelings.

“i’m so sorry, i-saw-the-inside-of-your-journal-but-i-swear-it-was-an-accident,” james blurted, eyes wide and apologetic. it seemed like he hadn’t meant to speak, and he clapped his hand over his mouth. even as you felt yourself actively disintegrating from humiliation, you still found yourself thinking how endearing james looked when he chewed his lower lip and let his eyes wander across the classroom; anywhere but your face.

“oh,” you muttered, “i’m sorry about that too.”

“what?” james’ head snapped back until he was facing you once more. he stepped forward and you forced yourself to stay where you were. james looked frantic. he blinked twice in confusion. “what are you talking about? why are you apologizing? you have nothing to apologize for,” he reassured you. his words came out like a half-formed train of thought, rushed and blurring into each other.

“it’s so invasive and inappropriate; i swear, i didn’t mean to have that- that sort of- i didn’t mean to dream about you! i don’t know what happened, it must’ve been some subconscious thought or- or something,” you blabbed, waving your hands in front of you as you tried to explain yourself. “i hope i haven’t made you uncomfortable; i don’t want this to ruin our friendship or anything, and i completely understand if you want to sit with someone else in divination or something-”

“wait, please don’t apologize!” james rushed forward in a surge of desperation-fuelled bravery. “i don’t want you to apologize.”

“you don’t want me to apologize?” you repeated dumbly. “but-”

james placed his hands on both your shoulders and shook you gently. “no, i don’t want you to apologize! i’m- i- how do i say this…” james closed his eyes and took a deep breath. you watched his eyelashes flutter with the movement of his eyelids. “i’ve had so many dreams about you, just like that one. and sweetheart, i’d love nothing more than for those to be real. i like you. i like you so much.”

you squinted at him, dumbfounded. it must’ve looked like you were judging him, because james backtracked immediately.

“i mean, only if you want it to be real- i’m sorry if that’s creepy or gross or perverted; i swear, it was all family-friendly. no funny business. i just really like you, sweetheart, and i can’t stop thinking about you, and i mean, for you it might’ve been some subconscious thought but you’re in my mind all the time,” james said. he pulled his hands from your shoulders and held them in the air, like he’d been caught stealing. “maybe i’ve misinterpreted this; maybe i-”

“what about lily?” you coughed out.

“what d’you mean, ‘what about lily?’”

“lily likes you, james. i thought you liked her too.”

“what? lily does not like me.”

“james,” you sighed exasperatedly, “she totally does-”

“i- lily’s been this close-” james pinched his fingers together, “-to slaughtering me because i’ve been trying to ask you out for nearly a year now and i keep chickening out.”

“wait, a year? you’ve liked me for a whole year?”

“um, yes. and are you gonna say anything? like, do you like me too? i’m kind of freaking out here, sweetheart.”

“jamie, are you insane? i’ve been bloody in love with you since forever; merlin, i like you so much it’s embarrassing,” you scoffed.

“what? why didn’t you say anything?” james exclaimed, mouth dropping open as he leaned backwards to look you up and down incredulously.

“well, how was i supposed to know you felt the same? i didn’t want to mess everything up! it’s not like you said anything either.”

“are you kidding? sirius said i was making it obvious!” james cringed, dipping his head in defeat. he took your hands in his and squeezed them as he chided you. “hell, even marlene and trelawney saw it before you!”

“in my defense, am i really supposed to believe what trelawney does?” you huffed, crossing your arms in frustration. “you always talk about how she’s a fraud! you were totally sending me mixed messages!”

james looked down at you. his glasses were beginning to slip down his nose and you wanted nothing more than to push them back up, but he had you transfixed. he unwraveled one of his hands from yours but his touch never left; his fingers brushed up your forearm and squeezed your shoulder affectionately before cupping your jaw. james’ thumb brushed against your mouth, coaxing apart your pursed lips and soothing your pinched expression.

“what did you see in the crystal ball?” james whispered teasingly, eyes never leaving yours.

you remembered the way your own lips had tingled as you watched the smoky figures kiss and you felt your mouth curve into a self-satisfied smirk, knowing—despite how cliché it sounded—you’d actually predicted the future. pushing yourself to your toes, you threw your arms around james’ neck and pressed your lips against his and it was like you were back in the divination classroom once more and you were feeling the haze of the crystal ball overtake your mind as you drowned in the heat of james’ kiss. there was nothing else in the world except the brush of james’ tongue against your bottom lip, his choked inhale from when you pulled him closer by the front of his shirt, and the victorious bubble in your stomach at having secured yourself an O in divination. take that, lisa turpin.

james laughed breathlessly, eyes flickering between yours as his face shuffled through a million different emotions. “i take it back. trelawney is not a fraud."

kissy kissy ooh-la-la, babe, i want ya so tell me that you want me the same i fantasize about you today and tomorrow so kissy kissy ooh-la-la, forever

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

general taglist: @im-a-slut-for-fluff @bambamwolf87 @yourallihave @cowboibeepbeep @liszblog @springflwer07 @getawayfrommewerewolf @soumya-13 @ilovedilfs32 @valqarh @valvlry @losa12308 @darkenwolfie @bookishlover13 @lonniepoo @fromcabin13 @mystarlightswiftt @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah

marauders taglist: @emmaev @urgrandadsashes @girl-ln-green @vilentia @bibli0thecary @khayhuij @summer-noir @ggfamert @jack1n @siriuslydestiny @fluffybunnyu @thegirlwhohides @woodyrubster @swimmingunknowntimetravel @viridescense @rosaliesrealwife @arisarise @theghostofshadows @derpymidnight

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter mutual pining #james potter friends to lovers #james potter x reader fluff #Spotify

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rcollins3 · 3 months

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Harry's Coven In A Flame Awakened

Decided: Daphne Greengrass, Padma Patil, Susan Bones

Other Possible Options:

Gryffindor:

Katie Bell, Lavender Brown, Ginny Weasley, Romilda Vane, Lily Moon, Sophie Roper.

Foreign Witch:

Fleur Delacour, Sue Li, Annalise Scamander, Katarina Karkaroff, Sofia Flamel, Lisa Turpin.

Quidditch Player:

Demelza Robbins, Megan Jones, Cho Chang, Katarina Karkaroff, Flora Carrow, Sally-Ann Perkins.

Older Witch:

Narcissa Black, Aurora Sinistra, Dorcas Meadows, Septima Vector, Celestina Warbeck, Emmeline Vance.

Hermione is not a part of the Coven but she will be involved with Harry!

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hinnyfied · 11 months

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Pride Fest Sneak Peek

Here's the opener for my Padma Patil-centric fic for @thethreebroomsticksficfest Pride Fest!

In retrospect, Padma would realise that the signs had been there all along, if she had only been ready to believe them.

Third year, when Parvati kept talking about how cute Harry Potter was and Padma, ordinarily so in sync with her sister, simply did not understand.

Fourth year, when there was not a boy in the entire school with whom she wanted to go to the Yule Ball.

Fifth year, when Lisa Turpin got in the habit of lounging in their dormitory wearing nothing but shorts and a bra and Padma found it difficult to look without her insides doing a somersault.

Sixth year, when she had that dream about Cho Chang.

Yes, it was painfully obvious to her now as she rocked on her bed, face shoved into a pillow to muffle her sobs.

She had been made all wrong.

#harry potter #hp fanfic #ttb pride fest #ttb #fic fest #padma patil

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ladiesofhpfest · 11 months

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The Scrunchie by @saintsenara/Asenora

Our third fic of the week is here and we get an insight into very minor characters (including women of color!!!!), 90s fashion, and teenage girlhood!

Summary: Nobody would have let Hermione Granger borrow the scrunchie. But that's fine, because this story isn't about her at all.

What's to love: POV of Muggleborn, Black Lisa Turpin. OMG, Asenora, you've given us a gift. From the start of the scrunchie's life in Bangladesh (it's a character too!) A glimpse into Ravenclaw life, an outsider's POV of the golden trio, the drama of teenage girls (hello sister drama between the Patil twins!)

Thank you, Asenora, this was breathtaking!

#lisa turpin #parvati patil #padma patil #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #background beauties #ladies of hp #ladies of hp fest #fic rec #90s fashion #scrunchies

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aletterinthenameofsanity · 11 months

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when we are loved we are afraid (we were never meant to survive) (Room of Requirement as sanctuary)

The effects of trauma are tricky to navigate. Relationships fall apart, old beliefs are turned over, secrets are shoved deep behind lips, habits are formed, silences are developed.

The thing is: if anyone had been looking, truly looking, they would have noticed. The bruises were decently hidden, but the psychological scars significantly less so. Comments were made on a regular basis that gave away what was happening. (My letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs. There were bars on my window.) The victim showed up to school every year skinnier than he'd left.

The signs were there. They were easily seen.

But who ever would have suspected the Boy Who Lived to be the victim of child abuse? Who ever would have expected that the Golden Boy, who won Quidditch matches and defeated Voldemort and shoveled down pumpkin juice and laughed in Hogsmeade, could possibly have anything but the most loving of homes?

The only people who ever notice are the victims of similar kinds of abuse, similar kinds of trauma- the only ones who realize that it doesn't matter how happy a person pretends to be, that the most perfect of facades can be hiding the most broken of people.

An envelope shows up on Harry's bed the second Thursday evening of his third year, right after Harry's gotten back from dinner. He's always a bit more tried the first couple of weeks back from the Dursleys than he is the rest of the school year.

After reading, Harry follows the instructions laid out on the letter, heading up to the seventh floor that Thursday evening and pacing in front of the wall. He steps through the door and enters into a room that doesn't seem too magical or fancy. There are beanbags laying over the floor and mats sitting on mats and blankets, magical lights dangling from the ceiling illuminating a room filled with laughter and games and easy gossip.

Harry hadn't believed it when he'd read the letter, but here in front of him he finds a variety of faces he never would have expected to be willing to hang out together. Draco Malfoy. Percy Weasley. Neville Longbottom. Pansy Parkinson. Lisa Turpin. Terry Boot. Leanne Rosenthal. A pair of Slytherin girls in their fifth or sixth years and some Ravenclaw firstie that Harry doesn't know the name of but that won't meet anyone's eyes. Cedric fucking Diggory.

"Merlin's balls," he swears quietly under his breath as Pansy, Draco, and Percy look up when he enters the room. "I didn't expect this many people."

"To what?" Draco drawls casually, though his suspicious gaze flicks over Harry as Draco stands up to greet him. Draco's wearing pjs that make him look far more vulnerable than Harry ever could have imagined the Malfoy heir was capable of. "This many people to what, Potter?"

"Be here," Harry says, and swallows. "Your letter said that this place was for victims of..." He can barely think the word 'abuse,' because that wasn't what happened to him. The Dursleys were just afraid of him and his freakishness and were just trying to keep him normal.

His conflict must show on his face, as Percy gives him a sympathetic look. "There are many different kinds of abuse, Harry. Not everything is physical. It can be psychological, verbal, emotional, sexual, financial, neglect, all kinds. You know my parents never beat me, after all, but that doesn't mean that they didn't emotionally isolate me from my siblings and neglect me on a systematic basis."

"This is a safe space, Potter," Pansy says, voice softer than he's ever heard it before. "No one gets in here without our permission."

"C'mon, Potter," Draco says, gesturing to the seat next to him as he squats back down onto the beanbag he had been sitting on when Harry entered the room. "Join us over here."

Harry looks at the boy who has bullied him for years, the boy who says my father will hear about this with the same shake in his voice that Harry has when he talks about going "home" to the Dursleys, and he sits down on a pillow next to Draco Malfoy of all people, causing the last of the kids Draco, Percy, and Pansy were sitting with- Cedric Diggory- to glance up at him.

"I don't get why I was invited," Harry says, trying to regain his voice, trying to make sense of things. "I'm not that. I was never beaten or anything."

"Didn't you listen to Weasley, Potter?" Draco says, "You didn't have to be beaten to end up here." His gaze falls to Harry's neck, to a long-faded scar that wasn't caused by the blowback of a Killing Curse but rather by more mundane means. His voice is surprisingly sympathetic as he adds: "Though, to be honest, I don't think you got out entirely unscathed, did you?"

Harry swallows, gaze dropping to the floor between the four students' legs. He thinks about bars on windows and thrown plates and burning his hands on the stove when he was told to cook for the Dursleys at age five and getting locked in his room and starving because he'd fucked up and being forced to do every chore in the house and the garden. "No," he admits quietly, "I don't think I did."

"Welcome to the Sanctuary, Potter," Cedric says with a welcoming smile. "I think you'll fit in here just fine."

Over the course of regular Thursday night meetings, Harry learns everyone's stories slowly, though rarely through direct questions. The stories come slowly during the courses of games and gossip, casual discussions over midnight snacks and in the aftermath of nightmares.

He learns that Terry's parents often employed starvation as a punishment technique for him after a conversation devolves over snacks. He learns that Leanne's mother locks her in closets as punishment after Draco makes a joke about Seven Minutes in Heaven. He learns about how Lisa and Cedric's fathers both pushed them into careers or betrothals that they didn't want to go in, using threats of disowning them from the family if Lisa and Cedric didn't do exactly what they were told.

He learns that abuse is not just families. He learns about how Professor Snape's verbal and psychological abuse has utterly destroyed the mental health (a word he learned from Terry, a muggleborn whose best friend's mother was a social worker) of Neville and that Ravenclaw firstie, who it turns out is named Georgie.

And, of course, there are the kids who are physically abused by their families.

"My father's trying to force me into following after him into the Dark Arts," Draco admits one evening in the middle of a game of Monopoly- a game that Harry foolishly introduced to the Slytherins without thinking through the consequences. Now the game gets played at least once a week, with the Slytherins trying their best to destroy everyone, with only Harry and Lisa really putting up a good fight against them. "When I refuse, he uses the Cruciatus Curse on me to try to get me to fold to his whims."

Neville puts a comforting hand on Draco's crossed knee while Pansy whistles in sympathy. "Same here with my Aunt, Dray," she says, rolling the dice with her other hand. "Fuck yeah, a three!" she crows, moving her piece- the top hat- the spaces forward to land on Park Place. She gleefully hands the required money over to the banker, Percy, as everyone else groans. "I've got a fucking Monopoly, bitches!"

And that's something else that Harry gets out of this, too. These meetings aren't just the most horrible show-and-tell that Harry's ever been a part of. They're also safe spaces where Harry knows he is among people who understand why he flinches when people move too fast or why he doesn't eat as much as anyone else right after they get back from summer break. They're places where he can let down his guard for the first time since he can remember, make jokes about trauma with people who understand what he went through. They're times where there are pranks and games and gossip sessions or magical practice and all of it feels normal because it's with people who don't judge him, who are willing to just sit with him and understand him.

For the first time in Harry's life his bones feel settled in his own skin. The process of filling out his body again, going from starving to eating enough, from being afraid to be alone with people to feeling at home again, doesn't take as long as usual. These people- they understand him. They understand how hard it is for his brain to settle in the feeling of safety. They don't judge him for his mental issues and so he feels okay here with them, being who he is, in a way that he's never gotten before.

Through all of these reveals, as these broken kids learn to trust him as they have come to trust each other, Harry learns how to help other people through the after effects of all of these kinds of abuse. Percy teaches him how to help kids through panic attacks after Lisa has a minor breakdown after someone accidentally uses one of her trigger words. He learns first aid from Terry and Leanne, both of whom have had to learn it themselves to take care of injuries both for the others and for themselves.

Sure, all of this isn't stopping the abuse. There's no way for a bunch of kids to stand up to their families and professors and hope to survive.

But this is comfort. This is understanding.

And for now, for Harry, age thirteen, finding a home for the first time in his life- this is enough.

Ron asks Harry where he keeps disappearing to when he gets back from his fourth meeting.

"I've just made a few new mates, that's all," Harry says, not lying one bit. "People who I share some interests with." He winks at Ron and Hermione, feeling a newborn confidence that he never did before. "Don't worry, I'm not abandoning you two as my best mates, don't worry."

Ron snorts. "Not bloody likely, mate." Then he smiles at Harry, and he seems genuinely happy for Harry. "I'm glad for you, anyway. You look a lot happier than you used to. A lot more content."

Hermione nods, a similar smile on her lips. "Is it because of Professor Lupin? I'm sure that that would plenty distracting from the whole Sirius Black thing."

Shit, the whole Sirius Black thing- Harry had nearly forgotten over the course of the past few weeks. "Nah," he says, "I think it's because of these new mates."

"Can we meet them sometime?" Ron asks, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe get to know you a little better through them?"

"Someday soon, I promise," Harry says, "Whenever they're ready."

"Cool," Ron says, "Now, wanna play Exploding Snap?"

"We've got a Potions Essay to finish, Ronald!" Hermione admonishes, and Ron shrugs.

"We've got plenty of time to finish that later, 'Mione," Ron says as Harry slumps back into the couch behind him, a smile spreading over his lips. Ron and Hermione are just as much of a comfort in their normality as the Sanctuary kids are in the abnormality- he knows he couldn't have survived the past few years without his best friends, nor would he have wanted to.

Harry understands rather well why no one has changed how they interact with him outside of meetings. He understands punishment and consequences and doing anything possible to avoid risks all too well. He understands why Draco still spits scarhead without flinching, despite the nights where Harry has gleefully duelled Draco in Monopoly, understands Pansy's outer disdain despite the nights he's braided her hair for her, understands why Erika and Kendall, the fifth year Slytherin girls, still make fun of him despite the time he let them practice their nail-polish techniques on him.

They're all just children. They don't have the power to stand up for themselves. They are subject to the wills of family members and teachers and authority figures, helpless to do anything to defend themselves save trying to prevent the abuse in the first place. They are being made to fight in wars they don't understand, don't really know enough about to make educated decisions in.

For now, this is the world that they are left with, and this is what they have to do to survive. So they continue on with what they are given, and they make their sanctuary together on Thursday nights.

"Is there something wrong with me for liking boys?" Harry asks one Thursday night when his head is laying on Draco's thigh. Tonight several people are feeling worn out by various papers and tests that are assigned for the week, as well as some rather intense Quidditch practices leading up to the Slytherin/Gryffindor game as well as the increased presence of Dementors (never a good thing for people with memories as bad as theirs), and so they're not playing games. Instead the floor of the Room has turned into a giant fucking mattress, pillows and sheets and stuffed animals scattered around the room. Harry's pretty sure that several of these stuffed animals and blankets are comfort items for the students around him, considering how hard people are clinging to them.

"Of course not, Harry," Erika says with a snort. "If there was, half of us would be in trouble."

"Really?" Harry asks, and Cedric nods.

"I'm bisexual- that means I'm into girls and guys. Pansy's gay. So's Draco. Terry is asexual- he isn't into anyone- and Erika and Kendall are dating."

"My parents will never know about me until I'm graduated and have taken control of the family vaults, though," Erika says, and Kendall nods.

"You don't even want to know what my parents are threatening if I ever come out," Kendall says with a shudder.

"But just because our families will react badly doesn't mean that it's wrong," Draco says, running his fingers through Harry's hair in a caring sort of way that Harry's never had anyone treat him like before.

The first time Harry interacts with someone outside of the Room meetings that he doesn't normally is when he bumps into Pansy in the hallway right before Halloween. There's no one else here in the hallway outside of the Astronomy Tower, and thus she gives him a small smile. "You ready for the Samhain party we're having next week?"

"We're having a party next week?" He asks, and she nods.

"No plus ones allowed," she says, expression almost apologetic. "Can't violate the sanctuary of the group. But Leanne, Erika, Terry, and I are in charge and so it's gonna be fucking awesome anyway."

Harry lets out a soft snort. "Malfoy not in charge?"

Something passes over Pansy's expression. "He's got some other shit that his father's making him do right now, so he's a bit busy. But you're in, right?"

"Fuck yeah," Harry says. "Just gotta cross our fingers that things don't go to shit this Halloween."

Pansy snorts. "That's the dream, Potter."

The party goes off without a hitch and then, the week after Halloween, Professor Lupin drags out the Boggart and Neville, Draco, and Pansy are in Harry's DADA class and he is so fucking scared of what might get exposed during class, not just on his behalf but on theirs too.

And he's right to- when Neville's Boggart turns into Professor Snape, Professor Lupin's face goes white. He Riddikuluses the Boggart, turning it into a moon and then into a leaking balloon, before turning to the kids with a smile that Harry is all too familiar with, a smile that is clearly hiding some sort of sadness.

Professor Lupin then proceeds to hold Neville back after class, claiming to need to speak to him, and Harry makes excuses to Hermione and Ron as to why he has to hang back, too. Harry's not surprised to find Pansy and Draco staying by their desks, either, apathetic expressions on their faces but spines straight as rods. All three of them know why Neville's Boggart is Professor Snape, and they want to make sure that he has support by his side while Professor Lupin questions him.

Thankfully, though, when Professor Lupin sees Harry, Draco, and Pansy hanging by Neville's side as he enters the office, he doesn't ask any questions of them. Instead, he offers them all chocolate- which all of them save Draco take.

"Why was your boggart one of your professors, Neville?" the Professor then asks, and his expression is sympathetic but none of the four children in front of him can entirely trust him. Their entire lives have been spent either being ignored by adults who promised to help or being outright accused of lying by adults who they thought cared.

Neville, despite being the most easily trusting of the four of them, is still somewhat suspicious of Professor Lupin. They've all been screwed over by supposedly trustworthy adults in the past and they're not easy to trust Professor Lupin just because he's been fun and informative in class.

But Neville was not sorted into Gryffindor for no reason. "Because he's verbally abusive, sir," he says, spine straighter than the others have ever seen it before despite his fear of Professor Snape.

"Yeah," Harry adds, jumping in, ready to fall next to Neville if Professor Lupin lets them down. "He's constantly insulting all of us and calling Neville useless and telling us that we'll never be able to amount to anything in life."

"Dear Lord," Professor Lupin says, voice a bit worried. "Have you told the Headmaster about this?"

"Dumbledore doesn't care, Professor," Draco spits, posture far less at ease than it is during meetings, when he lets others slump over him and use his lap as a pillow. "Plenty of us have let him know about shit like this."

Harry nods. "We've complained about Snape for years and he hasn't done anything about it."

Professor Lupin, to Harry's surprise, doesn't flinch at the curse word, his expression only growing more concerned. "He hasn't?"

They all shake their heads and Professor Lupin's expression hardens. "I know I can't do much, considering how new I am," Professor Lupin says, "But I'm going to talk to Professor McGonagall and a few others and see if I can't do something about this. Severus should never have been allowed to terrify children to the point of making him their Boggarts."

Harry blinks and glances at the other three students, all of which have bewildered expressions on their faces. None of them expected this. Professor Lupin, right now, is doing the impossible, something Harry never thought he'd ever see- he's being an adult who's actually willing to listen, an adult who promises to try and make a change, who thinks that there is something wrong with children getting hurt.

"When you talk to Professor McGonagall," Harry dares to venture, feeling some of that Gryffindor courage that he's always been told he's supposed to have, "Can you also tell her about some other stuff, too?"

"Like what, Harry?" Professor Lupin asks, and Neville jumps in.

"Like the fact that Professor Dumbledore let all of this go by," he says.

"That Dumbledore's been endangering kids for years," Pansy adds, having heard all of Harry's stories of the past two years.

"That Lockhart nearly obliviated two kids and Dumbledore did jackshit about it," Draco adds, and though Professor Lupin raises an eyebrow at Draco's profanity he doesn't comment on it, instead just nodding.

"I'll tell her about all of this," Professor Lupin says, then gestures to the door. "I will definitely keep you kids updated, but it will take some time and I do believe that you four need to go to Charms next?"

They all nod, grabbing for their books and heading for the door, eager to be out of this awkward and emotion conversation, but Pansy halts at the door.

"Professor?" Pansy asks, and her tone is curious but soft in a way that it never gets outside of the Room.

"Yes, Miss Parkinson?"

"How did you know that there was something wrong when Professor Snape was Longbottom's Boggart?"

Professor Lupin gives Pansy a smile that speaks to something sad and pained and achingly familiar to the four kids. "Because years ago I had a Professor like that," he says, "A man who took issue with who I was and refused to treat me like a human- much less a child- because of it. I had friends, thankfully, who took care of me, just like you four, but it wasn't easy." He looks to each of them, some measure of pride in his gaze. "You four- you're rather lucky to have such good friends to protect each other like that."

"We know, Professor," Harry says, giving Neville, Draco, and Pansy each a smile that they return with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Good," Professor Lupin says, then grins at them as he gestures again. "Now, get to your next class! Can't have you late on my behalf!"

So this is how a war begins to end before it starts, by kindness and care being planted in the smallest of places, in the smallest of ways: an adult refusing to overlook abuse and standing his ground to make things better.

Dumbledore gets fired by the Board and replaced by Professor McGonagall, who fires Severus Snape and replaces him with Andromeda Tonks. Professor Tonks is a decently strict teacher but still treats all houses with fairness and respect, not tolerating shenanigans in her classroom but being patient with questions and helping those lagging behind rather than yelling at them. Despite not being the most entertaining of Professors, she still finds herself ranked rather highly by students by the end of the term.

When Sirius Black shows up, there is no Snape to fuck things up. Professor Lupin has taken his wolfsbane and thus when Peter Pettigrew is captured, no time turner needs to be used. Peter Pettigrew goes to trial and Sirius is cleared of all bogus charges, proceeding to then take his place as Lord of the House of Black.

Harry gets to go to live with Sirius at the end of the year, Sirius uses his power as the Head of the House of Black to name Draco his heir- a move which supercedes Draco's title as Heir Malfoy and necessitates Draco move to the Black Family Manor in order to "complete the necessary preparations to become heir." Draco arrives at the Manor with a sob of thanks for Sirius, dropping his perfect Malfoy facade long enough to gasp his gratitude.

Sirius then proceeds to adopt Georgie, Leanne, and Terry from their muggle homes, thus giving Draco a set of cousins and Harry some adoptive siblings. The five of them spend the summer running wild over the Black estate, alternating politics and etiquette lessons with therapy sessions and the best prank wars that have been seen since the days of the Marauders themselves.

As for the children still stuck in the Wizarding World- Sirius uses the Black family's considerable political and economic power to help nudge the Ministry into opening investigations against the families of the Sanctuary kids. Some of them work quicker than others, such as the one against Erika's parents, who only had the flimsiest of excuses as to their involvement with Voldemort in the First Wizarding War, while others drag on. Whatever the results, though, at least the investigations have been opened and thus the Sanctuary kids have some measure of protection and safety for the first time in their lives.

Over the course of the summer, plenty of friends visit. Hermione and Ron visit and get along well with everyone, even Draco. Blaise Zabini arrives and instantly becomes plenty of Sanctuary kids' new best friend as he brings Italian chocolates with him.

And, of course, there's the fact that the kids' favorite Professor visits on a regular basis, rekindling an old romance with Sirius- a fact that all of the kids cheer on (and tease Sirius for the way he blushes like a teenager whenever Remus sends an owl).

When Hogwarts starts back up that September, several of the members of the Sanctuary have found themselves a new family with adults that they, for the first time in their lives, actually trust.

Mad-Eye Moody hasn't been hired to be the DADA professor- Remus is still there, with a kind eye on the Sanctuary kids and a wise smile for everyone. The Triwizard Tournament goes off without a hitch, with the newest ward of the Black family, Cedric Diggory, as Hogwarts' champion. All of the Sanctuary kids are in the audience to cheer him on and they're also there to tease him as he practices dancing for the Yule Ball in the Room, all of the Sanctuary kids dancing with him.

When it comes to the Yule Ball and who goes with who, Cedric takes his long-term crush in Cho Chang. Erika takes Kendall, Neville asks Ginny, Pansy takes Daphne Greengrass, Terry takes Georgie just so the second year can experience the Yule Ball, Percy arrives from his new Ministry job with Auror Tonks as his date, Leanne goes to the Ball with Fred Weasley, and, well-

Draco Black, Heir to the Noble House of Black, shows up with the Boy Who Lived on his arm, and by the end of the night the press have caught a photo of Draco giving Harry a kiss on the cheek on his way to grabbing the two of them refreshments. The press catch further photos of Draco laughing with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, of him dancing with Harry in the middle of the dance floor, of him with the biggest smile on his face as he talks to Erika, Percy, and Kendall.

The world gets to see Draco Black genuinely happy in public for the first time in his life and it is wonderful.

Things aren't perfect. There are still nightmares and trauma and there will be probably for the rest of their lives. The Sanctuary kids, even after getting out of the households they were stuck in, still need therapy for years afterward and sometimes find themselves falling into old, toxic patterns and habits.

But to this day, the Room still operates for kids who have need of it. Sirius Black still pours Black family funds into investigating abuse and eventually opening up a Home for Abused Children.

And the Sanctuary kids, even long after they're no longer children anymore, will still be a home for those who need one.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23022976

#fight me jkr #child abuse #i have never gotten over how much i hate how jkr handles child abuse #harry potter #aletterinthenameofsanity #ao3 #fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #survivors supporting each other #room of requirement #drarry #draco malfoy #suck my nonexistent dick jkr #happy ending #canon divergence #found family #hurt/comfort

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