#mclaggen x female reader

[training4theapocalypse]

Finders Keepers Ch 19. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+ (no smut in this particular chapter)

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Graphic violence (not canon-typical)

Summary: An unwelcome newcomer makes an appearance as you hold off the Death Eaters. McLaggen races against time to work out how to enchant the bludgers.

A/N: omgggg can you believe there's finally a chapter called 'quidditch'?!?! And not a quaffle or a snitch in sight… maybe a few bludgers though. alexa, play holding out for a hero by bonnie tyler

Masterlist

Chapter 19: Quidditch

If this is the way you die. What a way to go.

You laugh. Actually laugh as you speed around the pitch, weaving between the stands and drawing the remaining three Death Eaters away from each other, scattering their attacking formation.

Your friends are nowhere to be seen. They’ve taken heed of your instructions and gone back to the castle. And thank god, because it means all you need to worry about is your own path weaving through the spells being hurled from the pitch. 

The Death Eaters’ furious spell casting gets even more erratic as you frustrate them, dodging them on the battered old Cleensweep Seven you borrowed from Madam Hooch’s office. Despite the mortal peril, you feel alive. So much for only being able to buy McLaggen ten minutes of time while he works out how to enchant the bludgers to attack the Death Eaters. Even on this old broom, you could do this all day -

“You can’t fly away forever - Mudblood,” shrieks a woman’s voice.

You pivot on your broom and rise high out of spell-casting range to see the voice that ignites a flicker of realisation.

As she pulls back her hood her companion mimics her movement.

Cerys Thicknesse accompanied by Marcus Flint. 

As they stride across the scorched earth of the Quidditch pitch below you, Cerys’ eyes are alight with a cold fire. At the same time, you both break eye contact and see yours and McLaggen’s brooms lying abandoned, silent witnesses to the chaos that has unfolded. When she hands her companion McLaggen’s broom and picks yours up from the pitch, indignation ignites inside you that she’d dare to even touch them. 

“You might be able to outfly them but you can’t outfly us,” says Cerys.

You laugh derisively, masking the jolt of fear that courses through you. You’re confident you could fly rings around Flint - but Cerys? She was good enough to make it to the Holyhead Harpies. You remember her well from tryouts - even if that day feels like centuries ago now.

When she mounts your broom your eyes narrow. Your companion through countless flights, hundreds of training sessions with McLaggen at Hogwarts and several hundred more at Seafarer’s Beacon with the rest of your friends. Your broom was the thing that first made you feel like you had a place in the magical community. A real connection between your love of muggle sport and the wizarding world. Something your parents were able to understand - they might not have been able to wrap their heads around transfiguring buttons to button mushrooms but they understood saving goals. It was even the common ground between you and McLaggen when you first started talking to each other in Potions.

The anguish you felt when you found out Cerys has convinced her father to send you to Azkaban pales in comparison to how you feel now seeing her on that thin piece of wood that’s been your anchor for the past seven years. Unfortunately for Cerys, you're not the same scared girl you were when you were carted off to Azkaban. Deep down, you’ve always known your prickly assertiveness was a defensive mask for your lack of real courage. But your time at Seafarer’s Beacon has changed you. 

You’ve always been a leader but now you’re a fighter. 

With something worth fighting for.

“What’s wrong, Cerys? Didn’t your Death Eater pals teach you how to fly without a broom?” you jeer as she and Flint kick off.

“Oh, they’ve taught me more than that,” says Cerys, raising her wand as she flies towards you. “Avada Kedavra!”

Before the words leave her lips, you react - diving on your broom out of the way of the jet of green light. Your heart rate shoots up, shocked that Cerys’ first attack is aiming to kill.

Fuck.

No sooner do you dive than Cerys and Flint surge forward, their brooms cutting a direct path through the air towards you. 

A red jet of light whizzes past your ear and you narrowly avoid the stunning spell.

You focus your breathing as you push the battered Cleansweep Seven to its limits. Cerys isn’t the only one who has learned a few things since you last met.

You aim your broom handle towards the three Death Eaters on the burning pitch. Fast. Furious. Direct. Thinking only of Viktor Krum’s signature move.

“Marcus! Stop!” Cerys’s distant voice tells you that she’s pulled back, realising what you’re about to do but you hope that Flint hasn’t.

The hot, burning world below becomes a fiery blur that makes you screw up your face as you fly towards them, Flint hot on your heels. Wind screams in your ears as the figures of the Death Eaters on the ground chaotically try to take aim at your speeding figure. The three of them push each other out of the way of your deadly path and at the very last second, just as it looks like you’re about to crash headfirst into the pitch, you execute the Wronski Feint and pull up with all your might.

Gravity tugs at every muscle in your body. And just as you knew he wouldn’t, Flint doesn’t react in time. With a satisfying, bone-crunching crash and a scream of pain, he slams into the ground, the sound of the impact echoing across the pitch. One of the Death Eaters, caught completely off-guard by Flint's unexpected descent, is taken out in the crash, crumpling onto Flint in a tangled, bloody heap.

You don’t have time to look back before hearing Cerys’ horrified cry followed by more spells narrowly missing you. You need to keep going. This close to the pitch, the hazardous maze of burning debris makes your throat dry and your t-shirt soak with sweat.

You need to get into the open air again but your broom seems to be fighting against you. It’s hot. Swelteringly hot. Come on, you think, urging your broom upwards. But it’s dragging. Why is it dragging? You check over your shoulder and see that the tail of your broom is set alight. 

Double fuck.

Whether it’s by Cerys’ hand or from flying too close to the burning stands on the pitch you’re not sure. Either way, you point your wand over your shoulder. “Aguamenti!”. It’s no good. It’s so hot down here that the stream of water from the tip of your wand turns to vapour before it can extinguish the flames.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

There’s nothing else for it - you look for a patch of scorched grass amidst the flame and throw yourself from the broom. As the burning broom leaves a streak of white light in the air before crashing down into a pile of embers, your body slams and rolls onto the firmly solid ground, an entirely new sensation compared with the freedom of the air. Your right arm bears the brunt of your fall. Pain explodes as you roll awkwardly onto your back and your arm feels out of place - either broken, dislocated or both, you’re not sure. 

Before you can fully register the vulnerability of your situation or gather your wits, a shadow falls over you. You try to wrench McLaggen’s dad’s wand from your pocket but it’s not there. It must have fallen out as you tumbled from the sky.

Cerys aims her wand directly at you. “Crucio!” 

The incantation cuts through the din of burning chaos around you and the curse hits a thousand times worse than a physical blow. The throbbing, useless dead weight of your arm becomes a drop in the ocean as pain like you’ve never experienced before pulls at your every nerve - like every fibre of your being is being torn apart inch by inch. You’re only vaguely aware of the noises you’re making - so raw and so desperate that you don’t even recognise your voice. Even your teeth feel like they’re being pulled from your gums by pliers as you scream. It's only the absence of blood in your mouth that convinces you they’re still intact as you stop screaming to clench your jaw against the unimaginable pain.

She keeps her wand on you as you arch your body in agony and think only of the sweet release of death. 

Then it stops suddenly. With immense effort you open your eyes to see Cerys admiring her handiwork, her face twisted in a sadistic grin. She raises her wand once more and you almost hope she ends it rather than putting you through the pain again. But you have to know why she’s getting so much pleasure from targeting you specifically.

“Cerys - wait -” You pant, lifting your head and pushing yourself up on your left elbow as your right pulses in agony. “All this because of what happened last summer? When McLaggen punched Flint?”

“Don’t make me laugh,” she huffs. “This is nothing to do with Marcus.”

“Then what? Cerys I don’t understand what I could have -“

“I told you in the Black Dragon. I left Hogwarts five years before you did. I’ve been trying out for professional Quidditch teams every summer and winter transfer window since. Five years of rejections. Five years playing in the amateur league and working stupid temp jobs in my father’s department at the Ministry. Five years working for that arrogant, blood traitor Gregor McLaggen.”

She walks towards you pointing her wand and you scramble backwards with your good arm. You daren’t take your eyes off her as your fingers search the dry grass for the missing wand.

“But Cerys you - you made it. You got into the Holyhead Harpies… we both did.” The last three words are a plea, trying to appeal to some sense of reason within her, reminding her you were once teammates. For a brief, beautiful few hours after your tryouts together, you thought Cerys might have made a good friend. Until it all went so horribly wrong and she showed you who she really was.

“And do you have any idea how many tryouts I had to endure before I did? Then, when I finally get my shot, who else should swan into their first tryout and get signed? Not even as a Reserve Keeper. And you nearly took it from me. You almost saved every shot but I got two past you -“

“That’s my job! You think I’m not going to save something to make someone else look good at tryouts?”

“There’s an etiquette to these things. Something Mudbloods like you wouldn’t understand. It makes you look arrogant. Like your idiot boyfriend and his traitor father.”

“He’s not an idiot! And they’re not arrogant -“

She slashes her wand downwards and you twist to avoid it but her spell grazes your leg. You wince, feeling it leaving a fresh cut in your calf. You feel something hard sticking into your back. 

McLaggen’s dad’s wand.

“Over Quidditch, Cerys? You’d actually kill me over Quidditch?” A minute ago you were ready to die at her hand - to end the pain from the Cruciatus curse. But you’re not dying for this. Quidditch tryouts. Your lifelong dream feels childish as Cerys stands here and declares she’s ready to kill you over it. You slip your hand behind your back and wrap your fingers around your wand.

“This is about more than Quidditch,” Cerys retorts, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “Being pure-blooded used to mean something. Connections. Opportunities. Marrying into a pure bloodline. And now you’ve been handed everything that should have been mine and you’re not even grateful for it.”

“Marriage?” Your disdainful laugh is involuntary but you’re pleased to see that it’s wounded her. “This isn’t about McLaggen, is it?” 

“McLaggen. Listen to yourself, calling him by his last name. You talk about him like he’s your pal rather than your boyfriend... Where is he, anyway?” Cerys glances over her shoulder, still keeping her wand pointed at you.

“He’s not here,” you make up wildly. “He’s still locked up under the Imperius curse.”

“The Daily Prophet might have bought Gregor McLaggen’s bullshit story but I saw you two in the Black Dragon and he wasn’t Imperiused. So where is he?”

“He’s not here!” you lie again, your heart thudding so frantically you’re sure she must actually see it betraying you, beating against your ribs.

“Liar. Crucio!”

Your whole body jerks again as the brutal curse takes over your senses once more, your wand jabbing uselessly into your back as you lose control of your fingers. With everything you have, you force yourself to think of Cormac. He must not have been able to crack the enchantment for the bludgers. But at least you’ve bought him enough time to get back to the castle.

“Where is he?!” Her question breaks the curse as your mind swims.

“Why - why do you care?” You ask and it’s only the taste of iron in your lips that makes you register that your face is bleeding. 

“The Dark Lord has promised he’ll reward those who are loyal to him. With the Mudbloods out of the way, we can return to the rightful order.” Cerys’s gaze is sharp. “I told you last summer, there are no decent men from pure-blood families left. So I’ve decided that when I’ve gotten rid of you, Cormac McLaggen will suffice.”

“He’d rather die,” you spit back, defiance burning through the pain.

Cerys smirks, her wand steady. “Maybe. But would he risk his family?” You blink up at her, trying to make sense of it all. “I can make sure the Dark Lord learns all about Gregor McLaggen's scheming to undermine him. Getting you out of Azkaban? Pretending his son was kidnapped and under the Imperius curse for all these months? Pure-blood or not, the McLaggens will be executed for being traitors. Unless I get what I want.” Cerys moves closer, amidst the chaos of the burning pitch, her silhouette outlined by the leaping flames that consume what remains of the once-pristine field. “So, where is your boyfriend? I’d hate for him to get hurt in the battle - I have plans for him.” 

“Cerys?” bellows Flint’s voice from beyond the flames separating you and Cerys from the rest of the pitch. She ignores him - keeping her wand fixed on you.

“What about Flint? Why don’t the two of you go off and have Death Eater babies?” you snarl, grimacing against the dull pain in your shoulder.

She shrugs. “I like them pretty - Crucio,” she says, with an almost lazy flick of her wand.

With every cell of your being screaming under the curse, you force your mind to McLaggen and somehow it lessens to pain. Of the two of you sharing a blanket on a tiny island in the middle of the vast loch, watching blue flames twinkle in a jar. You think of Cho, your fingers braiding her hair as you both sit on the window seat at the top of the lighthouse. Of Marietta, carefully transfiguring the bunch of wildflowers she collected in the garden into a beautiful wreath of sweetpeas, violets and her favourite forget-me-nots. You think about playing Exploding Snap with Carmichael and him leaping onto his chair in an ungracious, goofy victory dance. You think about Leanne transfiguing Carmichael’s chair into a yoga ball, sending him tumbling and making you laugh until your sides hurt. You think about Krum in the kitchen showing you how to make Bulagarian bansita and Davies interrupting to wind him up by insisting that they’re basically pumpkin pasties with cheese. You think about singing Happy Birthday to Katie at a surprise picnic in the garden and her joy when she sees Wood, Angelina and Alicia there too. 

You think about all of them. The memories help you endure, drawing out your own torture to keep Cerys occupied, to give them a fighting chance.

When the curse breaks again you squeeze your eyes shut tight, waiting for Cerys to cast the killing curse now she’s finished toying with you. You only dare to open your eyes when a scream is carried to you by the wind. 

In the distance somewhere you can hear a man crying out in pain and you hope against hope it’s not any of the others getting themselves hurt in an attempt to rescue you. The thought tightens the vice around your heart, even as you gasp for the air that pain had stolen.

A silhouette rises above the burning sky on a broom and suddenly the atmosphere changes. 

Cormac.

Cerys’s focus on you falters when there’s an almighty crunching of something smashing through wood. Her eyes widen as a bludger propels itself through the debris, flying directly towards the two of you. You grab McLaggen’s dad’s wand with your left hand and cast a shield charm around yourself but there’s no need. You’re not the target the bludger is looking for. 

With a dull thud of metal meeting a fleshy target, the bludger collides with Cerys directly in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her and sending her off her feet. Another bludger flies downwards and Cerys rolls herself out of the way in just enough time so that it sinks into the ground instead of into her chest. 

She gets to her feet and with all your might you push yourself up with your left arm, holding the wand in your practically useless right. 

The bludger in the ground shakes and throws itself towards Cerys, sinking into her ribs with a brutal crunch. She doubles over coughing up blood. She looks at you helplessly, blood dripping out of her mouth and down the front of her Death Eater robes, deepening them a darker shade of night. 

It’s awful. 

You know you should be relieved to see her being bludgeoned to death after she just tortured you. But after spending so much time in Seafarer’s Beacon with McLaggen and those idiotically noble Gryffindors, your heart pleads with you to show her some compassion. To be the bigger person. 

Wind rushes as you hear another bludger careering towards her.

“Protego!” you cry, pointing the shield between Cerys and the bludger, grimacing against the effort it’s causing you to even lift your broken arm.

And then a lot of things happen at once.

Cerys levels her wand at you.

You hear McLaggen shouting, “No!”

Your wand trembles under the strain of your pained grip.

She opens her mouth, “Avada Ke-”

McLaggen careers into you on his broom, knocking you aside and onto the ground. 

Your broken arm screams as you hit the ground once more.

The shield charm you were casting falters.

The bludger, unyielding and precise, smashes straight into Cerys’s face. The unforgivable curse dies on her lips, unspoken, as silence - a heavy, definitive silence - falls over the scene, punctuated only by the crackling of the flames that have witnessed the turn of fate. 

You and McLaggen sit in a heap on the ground. You don’t dare to bring yourself to look at the sickening sight only a few feet away. 

You know without looking that Cerys is dead but for some reason - closure perhaps - you need to ask, “Is she…”

And as if for good measure another bludger plummets from the sky towards her as if from nowhere. You yelp and shield your eyes. A thunk of the bludger meeting its target. The sound of liquid on dry grass.

“Dead. Yeah.” McLaggen says in a cold voice but when he tears his gaze away from Cerys his eyes are full of concern for you. “Are you alright? I heard… I heard you screaming.”

You nod but you’re not sure that you are alright. Images of Cerys standing over you, using the Cruciatus Curse on you, streak behind your eyelids every time you blink. Like a camera flash burned onto your retinas. “You did it. You worked out how to enchant the bludgers,” you say, looking out at the burning pitch in front of you, hoping for a change of subject from your own wellbeing.

“I’m sorry - I tried to do it faster. But when I heard you screaming…” He drags a hand down his face, smudging the black soot. “I panicked. And I think I overdid it. I didn’t think the bludgers would - would kill. I thought they’d just rough the Death Eaters up a bit. Cause them enough trouble ‘til I could get you out of there. I mean, Flint, Cerys and those two other Death Eaters, they’re - fuck -” He swallows. “They’re dead. It was grim. And I - I killed them.”

“They would have killed you without a second thought.”

He nods, not able to pull his eyes away from the flaming pitch.

You press on. “Flint tried to kill me. And you saw Cerys trying again. And what’s worse -”

“The Cruciatus curse?”

“Well, yes but -” 

McLaggen lets out a hollow sort of groan. “I’m sorry I wasn’t faster -”

“No, listen to me. Worse than the Cruciatus curse. After Cerys had killed me she was going to tell You-Know-Who she wanted to marry you after all of this was over.”

“That’s not worse than you enduring the Cruciatus curse,” says McLaggen. “Not to me.”

“I’d take a thousand Cruciatus curses than an entire lifetime spent in a forced marriage to a Death Eater.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” McLaggen trails off, utter disbelief etching his face.

“At first I thought she was just saying it to try and stick the knife in before she killed me. But then she started going on about pure bloodlines again like she did in the Black Dragon last year.”

McLaggen shakes his head. “She’s deluded... Was deluded.”

“Cormac -” Your left hand searches for his fingers and grips them tight. “I thought you’d be safe even if our side lost, because of your family name. But if what Cerys told me is true and we lose, the Muggleborns will be executed and the pure-bloods who resisted will be forced into Death Eater families.”

“Well, it’s like you said. We need to win or die trying.” McLaggen gets to his feet and extends his hand to lift you to yours. You take his with your left and wince as you get up. “Woah - what happened to your arm? Was that when I flew into you?”

“Well, it didn’t help.” You offer him a small smile despite the pulsing pain and inner turmoil. “But no - it was when I had to jump off my broom earlier.”

“Do you want me to fix it?”

“Can you?”

“I’ve never done it before. But I think if I can handle the bludgers, I can handle this. And I remember the spell from when you fixed my nose.”

You hesitate. Arms are trickier than noses. But if you go back to the castle with a broken wand arm then you’re worse than useless. “Yeah. Go on then.”

McLaggen places the tip of his wand against your upper arm. “Episkey.” You inhale sharply as you feel the bone snapping back into place. “You’ll probably need some Skele-gro after this is over,” he says, taking your arm in his hand to examine it. “Can you try using it?”

You flex your fingers, feeling the sensation returning to them and wave your borrowed wand again. “Thanks.”

You draw your gaze from your hand and up at McLaggen as you stand here, both covered in blood, soot and dirt. Even with his wild hair and his singed t-shirt, he’s a sight for sore eyes. In your darkest moments when Cerys was torturing you, even when you were facing death, all you could think about was him. 

But now you need to return to the castle and rejoin the battle. Keep fighting. Face death who knows how many more times.

You both jump with a start when a voice rings through the air, as clearly as if the speaker were directly behind you.

“You have fought,” says the amplified high, cold voice, “valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.”

Heavy losses. Dead. There are people in the castle who are dead.

You don’t want to think about who.

“I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour.”

“We’ve got to move,” says McLaggen, before the ringing has even stopped in your ear, as he marches over to pick up his broom.

“But he said we’ve got an hour?”

“Yeah, and in about five minutes a hundred Death Eaters will be coming past here on their way to the Forbidden Forest.”

“Fuck.”

“Let’s go,” he says, climbing onto his borrowed school broom. 

You pick up your broom that Cerys had discarded. As you grip the familiar handle, your body breathes a sigh of relief. Like an extension of you had been temporarily missing. “I don’t know where yours is,” you say before kicking off into the air. “Maybe we could find it?” you suggest hopefully, peering down at the disastrous state of the pitch as the two of you ascend into the air.

“Doesn’t matter. We don’t have time,” says McLaggen. “And besides, it was already pretty burnt anyway,” he adds.

You smile weakly at his effort to bring some humour back to the situation but it’s short-lived. 

As the two of you turn West and fly back towards the castle, your stomach churns in anticipation of what awaits you back at Hogwarts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark, @intense-sneezing, @lipstickandloveletters, @ichorai, @marmie-noir, @lolitstiana, @evabellasworld, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @xyzstar, (let me know if you want removed at any point btw!)

#cormac mclaggen x female reader #cormac mclaggen #cormac mclaggen x reader #ravenclaw #ravenclaw fanfiction #smut #fanfic #harry potter and the half blood prince #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #freddie stroma #deathly hallows #harry potter and the deathly hallows #cormac mclaggen fic #cormac mclaggen fanfic #mclaggen x reader #mclaggen x female reader

[fallingforfictionalcharacterss]

Hellooo,

I want to request a story where Mclaggen flirts with the reader and gets to close, so she kisses her best friend Draco to get rid of him. But he gets pissed when he finds out that she only did it to get rid of him. Happy ending pls

Thank you so much for your request, I really enjoyed writing it! I feel my writing style is closer to my older fics again at this one (I´m not sure if this is a good thing yet). However, I hope you enjoy reading it!

Friends to lovers

Warnings: alcohol consumption, harassment

A/N: Just a quick note for all the girls out there (and everyone else who will ever get in a situation like this): Please remember that it is always okay to speak up if someone makes you feel uncomfortable and never be afraid to make a scene if necessary (only if you feel like it´s safe obviously), regardless what other people around you might think or say about it. These feelings are completely valid and much more important than what others might think.

Also, since this fact might get lost in this fic: Consent is always key, always remember this, regardless of what situation you are in or what the relationship with the other person might look like.

“So what do you think? The silvery or the green one?”

You narrowed your eyes as you tried to conjure the images of the dresses in your mind.

“The green one. With some silvery jewellery.”

“Maybe the necklace you got me for my birthday?”

You grinned at your friend.

“I was thinking the exact same, Pansy.”

“Oh yeah, and what do you think, Draco? Which shirt should I wear tonight? The black one or the black one?”, you were suddenly interrupted by a deeper voice.

The blond boy pouted as if he would actually think about his answer.

“I think you should wear the black one, Blaise.”, he finally answered. “It stresses your eyes.”

“You´re too kind, Draco. And such an amazing help.”

You shared an annoyed glare with Pansy, which made the boys give in and burst into laughter.

“But honestly”, Blaise stated when they had finally calmed down again, “I don’t get why you make such a fuss about it.”

“It´s just a party. The two of you should calm down a bit.”, Draco agreed with his friend.

You nudged him playfully.

“Says the boy who takes about an hour to style his hair every morning and still gets it ruined in the first ten minutes afterwards.”

Draco touched his hair, looking slightly offended as a rosy shimmer spread across his cheeks.

“A malicious allegation. It looks like that naturally."

You shared a knowing glance with Pansy, fully aware of the fact that what Draco had just stated was nothing but a lie.

“It´s nothing to be ashamed of, Draco.”, you chirped as you smiled at him sweetly.

“It´s actually very attractive if a guy cares about his appearance, you know?”, Pansy added, making Blaise almost choke on his pumpkin juice.

The four of you were sitting in the Great Hall at breakfast and the most important topic of the day was the upcoming party tonight. By now, you had finished all your exams for the year and Salazar, that was for sure a reason to celebrate. And at one of the biggest parties of the year, Pansy and you obviously wanted to dress up at least a bit, eager to escape the everyday look of your school uniforms. And to do so, you were even willing to take some rude comments from your friends.

“As if I would be in need of such things.”, Draco returned, shooting Pansy a deadly glare, while Blaise still tried to catch his breath.

“Because unlike some of us”, Blaise stated, when he had finally recovered, as his eyes darted from Pansy to you and back to Pansy, “we don’t have to put in any effort to look great.”

“While Pansy and I, unlike some of us, are aware of how we can maximize our God-given beauty. It wouldn´t hurt you to try this as well at some point.”

“So you can´t even argue with the fact that we´re just irresistibly attractive, can you?”, Blaise grinned.

“It makes me want to worship the ground you´re walking on.”, you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

But while you were making fun of it, even you couldn’t deny that Blaise, as well as Draco, actually had some kind of effortless beauty. They were attractive, you couldn’t deny it, however, you would rather bite off your tongue than ever actually admit it to the boys.

“That doesn´t mean you couldn´t optimize it though.”, Pansy stepped in. “Maybe some eyeliner for Blaise and I bet Draco´s eyes would pop out more if we would curl his lashes…”

“And maybe ruffle up his hair a bit…”, you added, laying your arm around Draco´s shoulder in a sneaky attempt to get your hand closer to the neatly styled hair, but Draco realized immediately what you were up to and caught your hand with his.

“Don’t you dare. Do you know how much time it takes me to get this done? Won´t let you ruin it just like that.”, he growled.

“So you admit it.”, you stated with a triumphant shimmer in your eyes.

Draco looked at you irritated.

“Admit what?”

“That you style it."

Your friend hesitated a moment, before he grumbled: “Never said I wouldn’t. I just pointed out that you have a tendency to exaggerate.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Sure you did.” You sighed and rested your head on your friend’s shoulder. “But jokes aside. You look… well, let’s say at least acceptable, styled hair or not.”

Draco let out a low chuckle as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you even closer.

“Likewise, princess.”

And on the other side of the table, Pansy and Blaise couldn’t hide the smirk on their faces as they watched the scene in front of them, sharing a glance in silent agreement.

Later that day, Pansy and you made your way to the Slytherin common room. Pansy had indeed chosen the green dress, certainly enjoying the compliments you had showered her with as you had seen her all dressed up. You had dressed up yourself, not looking too bad as well and certainly more than just acceptable and -as Pansy noted- even Draco wouldn’t be able to help himself but admit that you did so.

And in fact, when you entered the common room, where Draco and some of your other friends were already waiting for you, the blond boy´s eyes widened slightly as he noticed you.

“So, what do you think? Is this acceptable?”, you smiled at Draco as you walked up to him.

Draco´s eyes wandered up and down your body, as he took his time to come to a conclusion. When his eyes met yours again, there was something in his gaze that you couldn’t quite grasp, something that made you blush for some stupid reason, but it was soon replaced by a cheeky grin.

“Finally, I don´t have to be ashamed to be seen with you for once.”, he responded.

When your attempt to slap his arm in response failed and Draco laughed at your pathetic try, you took some time to eye the boy as well. The Slytherin looked unfairly good in his black suit he always wore to such occasions. It somehow made the twinkle in his eyes only look brighter, especially now, that he tilted his head as he laughed. And also…

“Your hair!”, you stated in surprise as you noticed how some strands of Draco´s normally neatly styled hair framed his face.

The grin on the boy´s face only grew wider.

“Only did so for you, love.”, he teased.

“Oh yeah, for sure.”

“So what do you say? Do you like it?”

You eyed him sceptically. But no matter how hard you tried, you had to admit that there was absolutely nothing to criticize – neither about Draco´s hair nor about any other part of his appearance. For a second you got lost in the way he smiled down at you, way too smugly, yet in your eyes still looking just perfect.

“What? Got lost for words?”, Draco chuckled as he noticed your gaze.

You snapped out of your trance and quickly shook your head, not only as an answer to his question but also as an attempt to get rid of the strange feeling in your stomach as you looked at your friend.

“I told you it would suit you. Isn´t that surprising I was right once more, is it?”, you said with a shrug of your shoulders.

“You aren’t complacent at all, are you?”

“Says you”, you countered right away.

“Are the two of you done flirting now, or do you want us to excuse you for tonight?”, you were suddenly interrupted by Pansy´s mischievous voice.

You turned around, glaring at your roommate.

“You don’t actually expect me to answer this, do you?”

Pansy just shrugged her shoulders in response, pulling a face that made you suspect you rather didn’t want to know what she would say next. So you linked your arm with hers and pulled her towards the exit.

“What are we waiting for then?”, you asked.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived. It always amazed and irritated you at the very same time when you saw the students of the different houses in harmony with one another. Since none of you were wearing your school uniforms anymore, from time to time it was hard to even recognize which house the different people you barely knew were from. However, many of them -especially Slytherins- stuck to the colours of their houses, making it easier to at least suspect where they belonged, and somewhere on the other side of the room, you noticed Luna Lovegood, who had created some jewellery from eagle feathers. People were dancing, talking and laughing, on the dancefloor, at the improvised bar someone had built up or just lazily sitting in one of the seating areas.

The moment you stepped through the door, someone handed you a drink and you carefully sniffed on it. Just from the smell, you were pretty sure that whatever had been mixed into it, the night would be a very certain kind of fun.

Pansy had already raised her glass.

“To the end of torture and oppression!”, she cheered, before taking a way too big swing from her cup.

“To the end of torture and oppression.”, you agreed laughingly before you nipped on your cup as well, pulling a face. You certainly would need to take it easy if you didn’t want to wake up with some bad headache tomorrow.

When you had finished your drink, Pansy practically pulled you on the dancefloor, while Draco along with Blaise found some poor excuse to get over to the comfortable couches, meeting up with Crabbe and Goyle.

You didn’t even know how long you had been dancing, just enjoying the music and the company of your friends, when suddenly Pansy nudged you.

“Draco´s looking over!”, she yelled into your ear.

You turned your head, looking to the boys who still remained rooted in their spots in the seating area, and saw that Draco was indeed watching you. When he caught your gaze, you waved at him excitedly, which made your friend curve his lips into a small smile. But that smile quickly fainted as you tried to beckon him over, signalling him you wanted him to join you dancing. But while Draco was extraordinarily good in standard dances, he detested the stiff frippery without any clear rules with every fibre of his body. That´s why Draco just shook his head firmly at your efforts and quickly turned his head to his friends, engaging in the conversation again.

With a shrug of your shoulders, you turned around to Pansy again.

“If you don’t want it, you already have it.”, you said, slightly disappointed, yet not actually surprised at Draco´s rejection.

“I highly doubt it´s the dancing he´s interested in.”, Pansy mumbled under her breath and over the loud music, it was hard for you to understand.

“What was that?”

Pansy sighed.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

You threw your friend an irritated glance, but Pansy didn’t seem to want to deepen her explanation.

But while Pansy just went back to dancing, you felt your throat slowly getting dry from the yelling and the heated temperatures in the room.

“I´ll get myself a drink. You want something too?”

Pansy gave you a thumbs up and you made your way to the bar on the other side of the dancefloor.

You had just grabbed your drinks and wanted to make your way back through the crowd when suddenly someone touched your shoulder. You turned around and groaned quietly. Cormac McLaggen was standing there, grinning down at you. You detested this guy more than any other student in this school, not only because he was a Gryffindor, but mostly because he had a certain reputation regarding his handling of girls. You still remembered how -not long ago- he had tried to get close to Hermione Granger, and even though you didn’t exactly like the smart-alec Gryffindor girl, you had felt slightly sorry for her when you had watched the constant inappropriate attempts to get the girl. And the fact that he was standing now in front of you with that slimy grin on his face made you suspect that he was up to no good.

“Lovely (Y/n). I see you got me a drink as well.”, he grinned, stepping even closer to you.

You resisted the urge to step back and instead straightened your back, trying not to show how uncomfortable he was making you feel already.

“It´s for Pansy.”, you answered cooly.

“But I´m sure Parkinson can get herself a drink, can´t she?”

“So can you.”

“But then I wouldn’t have a reason to keep your company any longer.”

“That´s the plan.” You really weren’t in the mood to stay quiet or polite just out of respect for a guy’s feelings, especially if said guy happened to be McLaggen.

But he didn’t seem to mind the slightest.

“You´re really a tease, (Y/n), aren’t you?”, the Gryffindor chuckled, as he stepped even closer and put an arm around your waist.

“Let go of me. Right now.”, you hissed through gritted teeth, having to use all your willpower to not hex the boy on the spot.

“Why should I?”, McLaggen responded.

You looked at him in disbelief. Was he actually that stupid that he actually didn’t get how uncomfortable he made you feel? Or did he simply not care about it? And most importantly how would you get out of this situation most elegantly. You weren’t scared to make a scene in front of all these people, but you were pretty sure that McLaggen would hold it against you and even though you would be able to get rid of him like this for now, you weren’t sure how long it would last. So you took a deep breath, trying to get calm yourself down again.

“I need to get back to my friends."

“Why? You think they would grudge you some fun?”

“This isn’t fun for me, McLaggen.” You stressed his last name, trying to make clear that you didn’t feel like you were on a first name basis with him at all.

“C´mon (Y/n).” Well, that certainly didn’t work. “We´re just getting started. I promise you won´t regret this.”

But if he wouldn’t let go of you soon, he certainly would. But instead, he pulled you even closer.

“I´ll pass on this.”

You looked around, trying to find a familiar face to get you out of your misery, a place you could save yourself to, but the only people you spotted were Pansy and Draco who were standing next to the dancefloor, their eyes wandering through the room, probably already looking for you since you had already disappeared for much longer than you had originally planned.

“What is it (Y/n)”, McLaggen whispered into your ear, making goosebumps creeping over your skin in the most uncomfortable way. “Don´t got someone else to do the job, do you?”

Oh, if McLaggen only knew how much he had just scored his own goal.

“Oh well, you know, actually I do have someone to -as you just expressed so elegantly- do the job.”

You smiled at the boy sweetly, while the Gryffindor frowned.

“You do?”

“How come you don’t know yet? I thought most people did by now.”

You didn’t even have to hide the grin on your face as you saw McLaggen looking utterly confused.

“I didn’t.”

“Well, now you do.”

You quickly wriggled out of the boy´s grip and wanted to leave with a smug grin on your face, but McLaggen caught your wrist and held you back once more.

“Who is it then?”

You hesitated for a moment before you looked over to your friends still standing a bit off the beaten track and your gaze settled on a certain blond boy, who was talking to Pansy, for now completely unaware of his spontaneous promotion. You turned back to McLaggen and locked your eyes with his, not blinking once, as you said: “Draco of course.”

McLaggen looked at you in surprise.

“Draco? You mean Draco Malfoy?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Do you know any other?”

“But I always thought the two of you were just friends.”

“Ever heard something about the term friends to lovers? Honestly, McLaggen read a book someday.”

“But this is the real world, (Y/n).”, McLaggen frowned.

You had to try really hard to hold back a groan. That guy was harder to get rid of than the juice of a Mimbulus mimbletonia.

“But my fairytale has come to life. So if you´ll excuse me now, my boyfriend”, you stressed the word, “is probably already looking for me and I really want to get back to him.”

And without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and made your way back to your friends.

When you had almost reached them, a smug grin still covering your face due to your recent award-winning performance, you turned your head around one last time, only to see McLaggen still watching you, lips pursed and arms crossed in front of his chest. Maybe you hadn’t been as convincing as you had hoped or maybe it was just his wounded pride, but if he would keep on watching you that closely, he would realize rather soon that what you had just told him had been nothing but a bluff. At that moment a second terrific idea followed the first one. And without thinking twice, you walked up to your friends with the sweetest smile on your face.

“Finally, (Y/n), what took you so long?”, Pansy asked you as you handed her the drinks.

“Sorry, I was delayed.”, you said, before you turned around to Draco.

“But you couldn’t stay away from me too long, could you?”, he teased with that familiar twinkle in his eyes, as he grinned down at you.

You returned his smile immediately.

“You have no idea.”, you responded before you grabbed him by his collar and pressed your lips on Draco´s without hesitation.

It was fireworks exploding.

You weren’t quite sure what you had been thinking when you had decided to kiss your friend, but it didn’t matter anymore.

You weren’t quite sure, how you had been expecting his lips to feel on yours, but you certainly hadn’t expected them to feel so soft against yours and fit just so perfectly.

You weren’t quite sure how you had expected to feel when you would kiss Draco, but it hadn’t been like this. You hadn’t expected the electricity buzzing through your body the moment his lips touched yours. You hadn’t expected the relief you felt as Draco didn’t push you away but pulled you only closer. You hadn’t expected to feel like air was only the second most important thing in your life as his lips slowly started to move against yours as well.

You heard Pansy gasping somewhere in the back of your mind, but it sounded muffled, just like any other noise around you. Every sensation that wasn’t linked to Draco and the moment you just shared felt just doll compared to the intense feelings rushing through your body. Every centimetre of your body was on fire and Draco´s heated skin against yours only fuelled the fire. The taste of the drink he had had still lingering on his lips felt intoxicating, just as the way your hands slowly wandered from Draco´s collar to his hair, while he pulled his arms around your waist, holding you so close, you felt as if your bodies might immerge with one another.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, holding each other tight, but finally, you ran out of air after all and slowly, you backed up again. As you opened your eyes, the sight in front of you was truly magical. Draco´s cheeks were rosy and his swollen lips slightly parted, as he panted heavily, his hair not only slightly ruffled anymore, but a total mess.

The Slytherin leant his forehead against yours and grinned down at you.

“Well, that was unexpected.”, he said, his voice sounding unusually raspy.

You didn’t answer and just nodded as you stared at him in awe.

You had never seen Draco as much more than a friend. You had always been really close and you had always been aware of the fact that he was quite attractive, but you had never seen him in the same way you did now. You had never felt the butterflies in your stomach somersaulting, had never had the urge to be as close to him as you did now, had never wanted to press your lips on his again so badly.

Draco brushed a strand of your hair that was falling into your face behind your ear, before his thumb traced over your cheek and finally your lips, which probably looked like a mess by now since you saw some light traces of your lipstick on Draco´s.

“So tell me, love, how did I deserve this special kind of attention from you tonight?”

For a second you were almost irritated. What did Draco think why one would kiss someone else? But then you remembered that your intentions for the kiss had originally been slightly different from the ones you had on your mind now.

When you didn’t answer and the boy in front of you saw the look of indecisiveness in your eyes, his face fell.

“Salazar, (Y/n), please don’t tell me you´re already so drunk that you just run around and kiss random people.”

The sharpness in his voice made you snap out of the trance you had been in ever since your lips had first touched his.

“What? No! No, I´m not drunk at all!”, you objected before you realized that this was probably just what a drunk person would say. So you took a deep breath and continued: “It´s just… McLaggen came up to me when I just got the drinks and was… well, he was McLaggen and he wouldn’t want to leave me alone, so I told him I had a boyfriend. And you were the first to come to my mind and I knew he probably didn’t believe me, so I thought if I´d kiss you he´d leave me alone.”

Only now that you said it out loud, you realized how stupid you must have sounded. Draco and you had never been anything but friends. What in Merlin´s name were you thinking to just walk up to a boy who had never shown any romantic interest in you and kissed him without even explaining the situation to him or asking him if he was okay with it?

“That´s what this was about?” Draco´s voice sounded even sharper than before, making you flinch.

“Look, Draco, I´m sorry. I know this probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but I… I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking, and I panicked and I somehow thought you´d be okay with this and…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, (Y/n).”, Draco cut you off. “I get it. McLaggen is an idiot and I… I´m just glad you got yourself out of the situation, alright?” But Draco didn’t sound like he thought it was alright at all.

You nodded, eyeing him sceptically.

“So, you´re okay with this?”

Draco shrugged his shoulders. When he looked at you, the warm look in his clouded eyes had disappeared, and instead, his eyes were sparkling coldly at you now.

“Obviously. That´s what friends are there for, aren’t they?”

You gulped. For some reason, the word friends wasn’t quite fitting anymore for what you saw Draco as. You hadn’t believed that a stupid kiss could ever change your feelings the slightest, but somehow it did. Even though you weren’t quite sure if your feelings for Draco had actually changed within the last few minutes or if you had just become aware of something that had been buried under all those memories and experiences of the last few years, but what you knew for sure was that when Draco called whatever the two of you were friends, your heart clenched in a way you had never felt it before.

Still, you nodded.

“Yeah, you´re right. Friends. That's what they´re there for.”, you echoed weakly and forced a smile onto your lips.

For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, before Draco finally nodded as well and took a step back.

“Well, since my job is done now, you don’t need me anymore, do you?” And without even waiting for an answer, he added: “I´ll get some fresh air now. It´s too crammed in here.”

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving you alone, staring at the spot he had stood only seconds ago.

“What in the name of Merlin was that all about?”, you suddenly heard a soft voice next to you.

When you looked up, you saw Pansy standing there, still holding the drinks you had handed her before your attack on the boy who called you his friend.

“I… this was… well, you heard what this was about.”, you responded defensively.

“Well, you can´t tell me that this was about you getting rid of that nasty Gryffindor.”

 “Would that be so hard to believe?”

“After I´ve seen the two of you almost eating each other up and looking at each other like some fools in love? Trust me, it is.”

“Neither we ate each other up, nor are we fools in love.”, you snapped back, probably a bit too harsh for just trying to set the record straight.

“Oh yeah, this was purely platonic.” Pansy rolled her eyes.

“It was supposed to look real.”, you contradicted.

“And Draco knew that too?”

No, he didn’t. He had had no idea why you had been kissing him, still, he had kissed you in a way you hadn’t even dared to dream of.

“It was just the heat of the moment. I surprised him. And he would have felt bad to turn me down.”

“Oh, yeah, you have already assumed this for him, didn’t you?”

You looked at your friend irritated. You weren’t in the mood for guesswork right now, too many thoughts were running in circles around your mind.

“I mean, you kiss that poor boy like no one has ever done before and the next moment you explain to him that it was just to get rid of some jerk?"

“I know I should have just asked him first to make sure he is okay with it, but…"

“You really think that this would make any difference?”, Pansy interrupted you.

You sighed fretfully.

“If you got anything to say, Pansy, just spit it out. I´m really not up to your games right now.”

Pansy let out a small huff, not sure if she was supposed to laugh or grab you by the shoulders until you would finally realize it yourself.

“You really can´t be that blind, can you?”

You only frowned and Pansy sighed.

“(Y/n), you are aware that this guy had been head over heels for you since forever, aren’t you?”

“Who?”

“Draco, you foolish lunkhead! Who do you think we´re talking about?”

You stared at your friend in disbelief.

“Pansy, this isn’t funny.”

“Oh, I know, it really isn’t. It almost hurts physically to see the two of you interact with each other and how you are completely clueless to everything he does, even if Draco is behaving like a complete idiot around you.”

“You´re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am, silly. Salazar, the way the two of you act is really so much more than anyone could ever make up in their head.”

“So you really want to tell me that Draco has a thing for me.” “Being hopelessly in love with you is more fitting, but if you want to put it this way, yeah, that´s what I´m trying to tell you.”

You felt the butterflies erupting in your stomach once more as your cheeks heated up to an unknown extent.

“I… I didn’t know…I mean, if I… I really had no idea…”, you stuttered, not quite sure what to say.

“Don’t you say.”, Pansy responded sarcastically, but then she grew more serious again. “The real question now is how you feel about it.”

How did you feel about it? On the one hand, all you wanted to do was run to Draco and kiss him until you were out of breath again for the rest of your life, but on the other hand, this feeling was so new and strange to you that you weren’t quite sure how to deal with it.

“I don’t know. I mean, I never even thought about the possibility that Draco and I… that we might ever be anything more than friends. It´s all we ever were, and I never had any doubts that we always would be.”

“But what about now? How do you feel about him now?”

You hesitated for a moment before you responded carefully: “Different.”

“And is this a good thing or a bad one?”, Pansy asked, but from the look on your face she already knew the answer before the words even left your mouth.

An uncontrollable smile spread across your face as you thought about the feeling of Draco´s lips on yours and the way that he had looked at you right after they had parted again.

“It´s a good thing. Really good.”, you smiled.

“Then you should probably tell him, shouldn’t you?”, she asked, the smirk on her face clearly visible in her voice as well.

You nodded.

“I will.” You shot your friend a thankful glance. “Thanks, Pansy.”

And with that, you turned around, following Draco into the dark.

The castle grounds were quiet at this time of the night. A few people were standing here alone or in small groups to get some fresh air, but still, it was quiet and from time to time you had the feeling to be all alone out here.

You weren’t quite sure how you knew where to go, maybe it was because of the strong tie between Draco and you that you had misinterpreted so badly, or maybe it was something else, but somehow your feet carried you to the place Draco was standing without fail. You spotted him leaning against the wall of the castle right away, his light hair shimmering in the dim light shining through the windows, mixing with the one of the moon shining down on you. You were pretty sure Draco had heard you approaching him, or maybe he was too lost in his own thoughts to do so, but as you got closer to him, the boy kept on staring into the void, showing no signs of recognition.

“Draco?”, your voice was soft, so soft you weren’t even sure if he had even heard you because he still didn’t react.

You cleared your throat before you tried once more.

“Draco?” This time your voice sounded stronger.

Draco however, still didn’t look at you, but a small shrug of his head signalized you that he had heard you. You took this as a sign to step even closer. Your heart was beating fast in your chest. You were scared. Scared that you might have ruined whatever relationship you had with Draco beyond repair, and if it didn’t yet, that your next actions would do so after all.

“I was looking for you.”, you spoke up again, not quite sure how to start the conversation properly.

“You found me now, didn’t you?”, Draco responded, his voice sounded cold and his eyes were still fixed on an invisible point in front of him.

You took another step towards the boy and leant to the wall next to him, not close enough to touch you, yet close enough to feel his presence next to you. You felt him tense as you did so, yet, he didn’t shy away.

A few moments of silence passed, as neither of you said a word. You looked up into the sky, letting your eyes getting used to the darkness until they finally spotted some stars glistening above you.

“It´s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”, you tried again.

Draco just hummed in response.

After another few minutes of silence, you couldn’t bear it anymore and tore your gaze apart from the night sky and looked at the boy next to you instead.

“Listen, I´m really sorry about what happened earlier. This wasn’t okay.”

“I already told you, it´s alright.”

You shook your head vigorously, even though you weren’t sure if Draco could even see.

“No, it really isn’t. I behaved like a complete idiot in there. Not only that I… that I just kissed you, but also what I said to you afterwards. I really screwed this up.”

“It doesn’t matter, (Y/n)”, Draco said, his voice still apathetic. “You did what you thought was best at that moment. And, I mean, it didn’t mean anything anyway, did it?” The last few words sounded different, a mix of bitterness and the hope that you might contradict. Before your talk with Pansy, you probably wouldn’t even have noticed, but now you did. And it almost broke your heart.

“That´s not true.”, you contradicted in a low voice.

Draco´s gaze flickered in your direction for a second, before he looked away again. Yet, he didn’t answer.

“It meant something. I mean, I know it did for you and I…” You paused for a second, thinking about what you should say next. “It meant something to me too, you know? I didn’t know that it would but it did. Much more than I ever thought it would.”

“It didn’t. Neither for you nor for me. I think we both made that very clear.”, Draco spit out, his voice not nearly as calm as it used to be, even though he tried really hard to hide it.

“Did we?”

“We did. We´re friends. That is what you said and what I said as well. We´ve always been and we always will be. Ain´t that hard to understand, (Y/n), is it? Even you should understand that.”

“I know you have a thing for me.”, you blurted out. You didn’t mean to do so. You had wanted to approach the topic more carefully, trying not to hurt Draco´s feelings or embarrass him, but the way he behaved like a stubborn child, made it impossible for you.

Draco froze for a second, before he shrugged his shoulders, looking anywhere but at you.

“And if I did? Would it change anything?”

The fact that he didn’t contradict you right away, didn’t call your assumptions ridiculous or even laughed at you, made even the last doubts you still had had about Pansy´s words disappear. Your heartbeat quickened even more, even though you weren’t quite sure if it was from annoyance or affection.

“Would it… Draco, this would change everything!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Draco this… what happened tonight… the kiss… this wasn’t just about McLaggen.”

“You said it was.”

“Because it was. I mean kind of. But not like this. I… Merlin, Draco. At first, I kissed you because of him. But all of this felt just so… When I kissed you it just felt so good, and then you kissed me back and I had the feeling as if all the stars would suddenly align. It felt as if it was the right thing to do and it made me wonder… no, it made me know for sure that this is what I want. That you are what I want. Not as a friend but as… more. And I know that I´m an idiot that it took me that stupid kiss to realize and if you are mad at me now, you got every reason to be, but if you let me ruin the possibility of… of us just because I screwed this up then you are just as much of an idiot as I am.”

You hadn’t even realized how much you had raised your voice until you fell silent again and you couldn’t hear any other noises but the muffled music coming from inside and your own heartbeat echoing in your ears.

A few moments passed and neither Draco nor you said anything. Your thoughts were racing and in your mind, you already prepared yourself to not only lose the potential relationship Draco and you could have, but also the one that you had had ever since you came to Hogwarts. But just as you wanted to apologize and leave Draco alone again, the boy suddenly let out a sigh and stood up straight again, turning around to you.

The expression on his face was unreadable as he said: “Love, you should know that I´m way too smart to be an idiot.”

It took you a moment to process his words, but as you did, a small spark of hope lit up in your chest again.

“Does that mean, that...”

“It means”, Draco interrupted you, “that I´m willing to give this a chance.” He smiled at you smugly as he saw the uncontrollable grin spreading across your face. “If that´s what you want to, of course.”, he added slyly.

“I think to know this for sure, I might need to try something again at first.”, you responded.

And this time you didn’t have to pull Draco down to you, but he leant down willingly, meeting your lips halfway.

And even though this time you were prepared for the feeling, it still almost swept you off your feet with full force and you had no doubt that your legs would probably have given in if it wouldn’t be for Draco holding on to you tightly.

When you pulled back this time, you felt neither conflicted nor confused. All you could feel was your love for the boy in front of you rushing through your entire body and the only critical thought that was left was the question of how you could have ever mistaken your feelings for the blond Slytherin for anything else but love.

You leant your head onto Draco´s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat that was far too fast, a fact that you would have probably teased him for if you wouldn’t have known that yours did just the same.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this.”, Draco mumbled, before placing a small kiss on the crown of your head.

And he was right indeed. You had been completely oblivious to his feelings for so long, but now that you finally knew, it was making you happier than you could ever find the words to describe.

“Merlin, I love you, (Y/n).”, Draco mumbled, making yet another wave of heat flush through your body. But before you could even answer, he quickly added: “You… you don’t have to return this or anything. I just… I wanted to tell you for so long and… well, now I just had to.” You smiled as you heard the insecurity in his voice, something he barely ever showed to others.

“It´s not like I… maybe just take me on a date first, okay? I just… I don’t wanna rush things right now if that´s okay with you.”

“Anything for you, princess.”, Draco smiled, making your heart practically melt, as you snuggled yourself even closer to him.

“But one thing you have to tell me.”, Draco spoke up after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “You didn’t just have a brainwave, did you? Someone told you that I… well that I might like you more than just a friend.”

You felt your cheeks heating.

“Maybe Pansy gave me a little hint.”, you mumbled into his chest, making Draco chuckle deeply.

“A little hint?”

“Well, maybe it was more than that.”, you admitted. “She pretty much threw it in my face and I still didn’t catch it.”

“I always knew that you´re not the fastest broom in the sky.”, he grinned, making you frown.

“At least it didn’t take me… how long? Weeks? Months? To get a girl and then not even telling her but letting others do the job.”

“Actually it´s been years, if you really want to know. But I guess now McLaggen was good for something at least once.”, Draco responded. “Doesn’t mean I won't hex him the next time I´ll see his stupid visage.”

“If you´re hoping for me to stop you, I certainly won´t.”

“I was rather hoping you´d help me with it."

“So we can serve detention together? Romantic.”, you laughed.

Draco cupped your face with his hands and made you look up at him. You could see the mischievous sparkle that you had always loved so much glistening in his eyes.

“That´s just how I am, love.”, he responded, before he pulled you in yet another kiss.

And it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Taglist: @xodracomalfoyxo @marigold-morelli @army24—7 @lbhmoon @cappgyuccino @writingwitch007 @myomy0ss @tinafuentes @dmslvt @Slytherin4eva @foulkryptonitepeanut @chillcheesecake @pottertea @webswatts @jaiistg

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco fluff #draco fanfiction #draco fic #blaise zabini #cormac mclaggen #gregory goyle #pansy parkinson #vincent crabbe #slytherin reader #slytherin #fanfic #fanfiction

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Tired

masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x female reader

warning: somewhat angst to fluff, kissing, cursing, jealousy, best friends to lovers, protectiveness, c*rmac mcl*ggen

summary: you were theo's childhood best friend and he waits for a time when you will love him back

a/n: hello lovely people! i am alive and well! i sincerely apologize for not writing in awhile, i just haven't had any motivation to write lmao (this isn't proof read because its really late and i'm tired, so i apologize for any mistakes) (i chose the song below because i've been singing it for weeks and it somewhat relates to theo in this)

song: i'm just ken - ryan gosling

Theodore Nott was tired.

And in love.

With his best friend, nonetheless.

You may be wondering why he was tired. Well, he was tired of feeling upset whenever you called him your best friend. He was tired of hiding how he felt towards you since he was a thirteen-year-old. He was tired of the jealousy that took over him whenever someone flirted or went out with you.

Theodore was tired of many things.

At the moment, he was sat in the Great Hall as Draco complained about his classes. He wasn't listening, though, no he was staring at you as you happily talked with your friends in Hufflepuff.

Someone then sits in the empty spot next to him and pats his shoulder. He tenses slightly and Draco stops talking. They both turn and look at Cormac Mclaggen.

The two Slytherins practically have to hold in their vomit at the mere sight of the Gryffindor.

"Can I help you, Gryffindor?" Theo's eyes narrowed at the hand on his shoulder.

Cormac awkwardly removes his hand and sucks in a breath, a smirk making its way to his face. "You can't, but she can." He tilts his head and his eyes land on you.

Draco and Theo's eyes follow his line of vision and Theo clenches his jaw. "What do you want?"

"I want that friend of yours. And for you to set us up," he shrugs.

Draco glances back and forth between the two boys. He knows how protective Theo is of you, and that this isn't likely going to end well.

"Let me get this straight... you want me to set you up with y/n?" Theodore says with disdain.

"Exactly. Something about her just has me wishing to be in her bed, you know?"

Theo slams his hands on the table, causing some people nearby to look over. He glares at the boy and speaks lowly, "The fuck did you just say?"

"Don't tell me you aren't friends with her to get in her-"

Draco cuts him off before his could finish. "I suggest you don't finish that fucking sentence, Mclaggen."

"I'll take that as my sign to leave. Just let me know whenever you're done with her, I'll be waiting with open arms... and legs," he laughs as he walks out of the Hall.

"Fucking disgusting asshole," Theodore mumbles.

"I can hex him if you want," Draco says. "Maybe get Snape to take points from Gryffindor."

"Both sound good to me."

His eyes make their way back to you and he sees your eyes already on him. You smile brightly at him and he grins back. You turn around so he doesn't see your face warm.

One of your friends, Hannah Abbot, giggles and pokes your cheek. "Someone's blushing."

"Am not!"

"Yes you are. Don't lie," she leans in, "you have feelings for Nott."

"I don't know what you are talking about. We're just friends."

"Mhm." Hannah looks at you with an incredulous face, "I'm pretty sure that friends don't make heart eyes at one another."

You gasp, "Theo and I do not make heart eyes at each other."

Hannah whispers, "I know that you know that you like him. I hope that you believe me when I tell you that he looks at you like he's about to get down on one knee-"

You gently place your hand on her mouth and look at her with wide eyes. "That's enough." You remove your hand but chew on your lip for a second. "Does he look at me like that?"

"Yes! And for the record, I think your children-"

"Merlin! I can't do this today," you drop your head into your hands as Hannah rants about how beautiful your family would be.

It's been two weeks since then and whenever you hung out with Theo, you tried to decipher if he was looking at you the way Hannah has claimed he was.

Theo, however, noticed how you seemed more bright than usual. What had happened that made you more smiley and happy? Did you find someone?

He runs his hands over his face and sighs.

"Theo? Are you alright?"

He sits straighter at the sound of your warm voice. "Yes, love. I was just lost in thought."

"Oh? And what thought has you frowning like a kicked puppy?"

You lean back against the tree behind you and put your legs out straight, crossing your ankles. You pat your lap and Theo places his head down. Your hands start to play with his hair, like muscle memory.

"Nothing your pretty head should worry about," he says quietly as he stares up at the stars. It was past curfew, and you weren't one to break any rules, but how could you say no to your favorite person? Especially when the note was attached to your favorite flower.

"Hm, well I don't like it when you frown. I much prefer to look at your gorgeous smile," you chew the inside of your cheek and start to braid some strands of his hair.

His cheeks turn a light pink and his eyes meet yours. "Gorgeous smile?" He feels a flicker of hope that there's a slight chance you reciprocate his feelings.

"Yeah," you mumble with a light laugh.

He smiles and before he could say anything else, something clicks above him.

You grin as you hold your polaroid camera above his head. "Gotcha."

He fake pouts and tickles your stomach. You burst out laughing and the camera falls to your side, "Theo! Stop, please!" You beg and squirm.

"Okay, since you asked nicely."

"You know, I think I can be tickled to death. I don't know about you, but personally I can't really breathe when I'm being tickled."

He lets out a breath, "I don't know if I can, I haven't been tickled before." He sits up a tiny bit and leans on his elbows.

You huff, "I suppose we'll just have to find out, won't we." You quickly move so that you're next to him and tickling his stomach. His head falls back as he laughs. You smile and he grabs your waist and rolls the two of you over so that he's now on top of you.

Theo gazes down at you. He sucked in a breath at your closeness and couldn't stop his eyes from dropping down to your smiling lips. 'So pretty,' he thinks to himself.

His arms are on both sides of your head and he leans down a bit so that if either of you were to move just an inch, your lips would touch.

"Theo," you whisper breathlessly.

"I really fucking want to kiss you right now," he says quietly.

You look at his lips, "So do it."

Without another word, he connects his lips to yours and both of your eyes flutter shut.

He feels a burst of butterflies fill his stomach. As childish as that may sound, he's had countless scenarios of kissing you. But never would he have expected it to be so perfect as it was.

Your lips were soft and warm. His were too. He slides his tongue across your bottom lip, and you open your mouth happily.

His tongue wanders your mouth and your hands go up and comb through his hair. He lets out a content sigh against your mouth and pulls away the tiniest bit. He gives a shorter and sweet kiss before his tongue is against yours again.

You taste of strawberries and cherries. That was because you ate the two fruits almost every night for dessert.

He tastes like slight cigarette smoke and vanilla, as odd as that may seem.

The two of you could drown in the taste of each other.

Theo pulls away places a gentle kiss on your forehead as he sits up and pulls you against his chest.

He rests his head on your shoulder and kisses your neck. "I love you," he whispers.

You furrow your eyebrows. You've said the three words to one another before, but you hoped he meant it another way. Which you were almost sure of after the kiss. "I love you more."

"No," he shakes his head against your neck. "I'm in love with you."

You feel your heart rate increase and the largest smile is now on your face. "You are?"

"Of course I am. I've been in love with you for years. You don't have to say-"

You turn and face him. "I'm," you kiss his cheek, "in," you kiss the other, "love," you kiss his forehead, "with," you kiss his nose, "you," you finally kiss his lips and Theo melts.

You pull back and look at his blushing face. "Oh!" You just remember your camera and reach over to grab it.

You pull the printed picture from the top and look at the developed photograph. "Look how beautiful you are," you turn the picture to him.

He takes it from your hands and brings it closer to his face. Even he could see the lovestruck look on his face as he admires you from your lap.

"Lets caption it," you say.

"I think you should write, 'first kiss and love confessions'," Theo tilts his head.

"That's perfect," you smile.

"Not as perfect as you, darling," he winks.

You playfully push his shoulder, "I never took you as a sappy one."

He dramatically places a hand over his heart, "Oh how you wound me."

"Will a kiss make you better?" you ask with a glint in your eyes.

"I believe it will, sweetheart."

#nina writes 🤭💗 #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #slytherin #theodore nott fluff #soft theodore nott #jealousy #jealous theodore nott #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #theodore nott fanfiction #fluff #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader imagine #harry potter x you #theo #theodore #lorenzo zurzolo #imagine #oneshot #hogwarts #hufflepuff #fluffy #protective #protective theodore nott #sweet

[writing-wh0re]

Can I have a Fred or George (you choose) where they are dating but someone like cormac or something gives her a love potion and she’s totally obsessed with him and Fred or George figure it out and get protective and give her the antidote

Making this a George one because boy does he own my heart / pussy. 

All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests.

George Weasley x Fem!Reader x Cormac (love potion) 

Word Count: 713

Warnings: Angry George?

| | | 

I sit in the library turning the pages of my textbook, hoping the words will sink in as my eyes land on the piece of paper that has fallen onto the page. I knit my eyebrows together looking around the room to see who would've thrown me a note, no one around peaking my interest as I opened the small card. 

“Cormac?” I see his smiling face as he winks and blows me a kiss, my mind feels fuzzy as my heartbeat picks up. “Oh, Cormac.” I feel blush hit my cheeks as I look over his smiling face as his wink causes a smile to dance across my face. 

“Hello Darling.” 

I look up at George as he sits across from me, I hold the card against my chest feeling giddy as George raises an eyebrow at me. “What’s this love?” 

George’s hand brushes mine as he takes the card from my embrace.

“Just, Cormac, he’s so dreamy isn’t he?” 

“Did he give you this?” George's voice is stern as I frown my eyebrows together. 

“It fell on my desk, I should probably go find him.” I stand up as George grabs my forearm stopping me in my tracks.

“Let’s do it together.” I smile at my best friend as he holds my hand, walking behind me to find the gorgeous Cormac. 

“One second love.” I stop next to George as he grabs Fred, whispering something in his ear as Fred looks over at me. 

“Y/n, don’t you think George looks good today?” 

“I guess, have you seen what Cormac looks like? I bet he looks dreamy.” 

Fred chuckles as George hits his chest. 

“C’mon George, I want to find him, he needs to know how I feel.” 

George’s jaw tenses as he sucks his teeth, nodding towards his brother as Fred walks past us, quickly rushing through the halls. 

“You know love, I can’t wait to find Cormac either.” 

I smile at George as we walk through the halls together, butterflies hit my stomach as I hear his voice boom across the courtyard. 

“Cormac!” I shout as I run towards him, his arms open for a hug as I smile wide, running into his embrace. 

“Princess, you got my letter?” I pull out of his embrace as I nod, blush hitting my cheeks as Cormac’s body stiffens. 

“Fuck you Cormac.” I hear George spit as he shoves Cormac away from me, a fist landing against his jaw as Cormac laughs. 

“She’s made up her mind Weasley.” 

“George, hey.” I grab my friends hand in an attempt to stop him as he scoffs, shoving me off and pinning Cormac against a pillar, holding him up off the ground by his collar. 

“Y/n.” I spin around to face Fred as he blows dust in my face, my head spinning as his arms steady me. “How does George look?” 

I raise an eyebrow at Fred as I hear George’s voice, filled with anger. I look over at my boyfriend, having Cormac pinned against a pillar, yelling at him as he slams his back against the pillar a little more. 

“Is he fighting Cormac? God that's hot.” I blush as Fred rolls his eyes chuckling. 

“Cormac gave you a love potion and well, George is handling it.” 

I smirk as I walk up behind George, my hand rubbing against his shoulders as he looks over at me. 

I punch Cormac in the face as George drops him. I shake my hand slightly, the pain from punching him rushing through my hand. 

“Fuck you Cormac.” 

“Detention!” I hear Snape boom behind us as George bends down to face Cormac, now sitting against the pillar, face starting to bruise, his lip swollen.

“Don’t ever mess with my girl again, I won’t be so gentle next time.” George warns as I bite my lip, taking his hand in mine as we follow behind Snape. 

“That was hot.” I whisper as George squeezes my hand. 

“You were fucking infactuated with him.” 

“Let me prove who I really am infatuated with.” I wink at George as he chuckles softly, licking his lips, pulling me into a side hug as he kisses the side of my head.

| | | 

Taglist: 

@andreaareynoso

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@hufflepuff5972

@black-like-my-soul

@gaycatlord-stuff

@mathletemadison

@horrorxweasley

@justadreamyhufflepuff 

#writing-wh0re-requests #george weasley #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley imagine #george weasley blurb #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x ravenclaw!reader #george weasley x fem #george weasley x female reader #george weasley x fem!reader #cormac mclaggen #dom!george weasley

[siriusmydeer]

late common room nights

ron weasley x fem!gryffindor!reader

summary: after hermione and harry leave the common room to go to bed, you and ron have to find something to keep yourselves... entertained

word count: 1.9k

warnings: first of all that summary is ass but, unprotected sex (DONT FORGET TO WRAP IT BEFORE U TAP IT), uh fingering?, RON IS A CONSENT KING, this was also my first smut so don’t expect anything amazing 😭, uhm underage drinking, lowkey an innocence kink, exhibitionism, and c*rmac again

“guys, ‘m out m’tired.” harry spoke, getting up from his seated place on the common room floor and stretching out his arms.

“me too, ‘ve got a new book to catch up on” she says, slowly walking over to the girls dormitory tiredly from the long school day.

“night y/n, night ron.” harry says, before making his way to the boys dormitory.

“so, ronald, what do we do now?” a smirk grazes your lips with an arched brow, chuckling a bit at the end of your sentence.

“oi! stop calling me that!” the boy basically cried out, grabbing a fluffy pillow from the vermillion couch throwing it at your chuckling body.

you catch it with ease shoving behind you, thinking of something to do with your best friend.

“how about.... 21 questions?” proposing your idea whilst pursing your lips, looking at the boy again with narrowed eyes.

“alright, darling. you first.” his voice lacing with an amused tone at your proposal, leaning back on his hands that laid comfortably on the mahogany floor meanwhile sitting across from you.

“ok...” your voice slightly trembling in nerves, whilst wringing your fingers together. “whats your favourite colour?” your voice swift, his ears barely catching the question. having a small internal battle with yourself for chickening out from your original question.

“navy blue..., what’s your favourite memory?” his sentence pausing in the middle, attempting to maintain eye contact with his azure irises.

not bad, you quickly thought while trying to think of another question. a chortle falls from your lips thinking of the amusing memory, “that one unsupervised quidditch match when i was knocked off m’broom and broke my foot”

“the one where i had to bring you to pomfrey at two in the morning and serve a months detention for being out past curfew.” you both reminisce at the memory.

as the night progressed the both of you passed around the fire-whisky the questions got bolder, and to say the least dirtier.

“okay... okay...” giggle escapes you, the alcohol clearly in your system. ron chuckles at your disgruntled face, leaning closer to your face wiggling his eyebrows.

“have you ever like... done it?” a tinge of awkwardness runs rapidly throughout the room, you giggle again nervously taking another swig of fire whisky.

“it..?” he looks at you cluelessly, waiting for more information. you widen your eyes at him like you’re trying, and failing, to send him a mental message.

after a few seconds he looks at you with widened eyes, a small chuckle leaves his mouth as he takes the fire whisky from you. “merlin y/l/n i didn’t know you wanted me like that” he says taking a swig.

“no! i don’t!” you attempt to explain, with a vermillion running up the expanse of your next directly to the apples of your cheeks. “i’m just.... curious, because i know lavender has it bad for you” you attempt to cover your tracks, but your intentions already revealed.

“yes i have, for your information. not with her though.” he says with a sassy remark, passing you the bottle again. “have you?” he spoke while eyeing you suspiciously.

“well now i’m embarrassed.” you divert your eyes to the staircase. “oh so, you haven’t! my oh my, i guess you and mclaggen never got that far.” he adds with a raised brow and smirk.

“for your information, we never did anything because he was busy gazing at every other female in his vicinity” you punctuate and return to his sassy-tone, and a hair flick. you steady your eyes back to ron who looks at you amused.

“if i was with you i wouldn’t look at anyone else” he mumbles, gaze strictly on the floor his face matching his hair colour; a bright scarlet hue.

“what?” you look at him, widen eyes, face flushed and hair dishevelled. thinking you heard wrong, scooting closer so you can pick up his head with your thumb and pointer finger.

“i said...” he takes a deep breath before continuing, “that if you were mine, you would be the only person i’d look at” he says nervously, grabbing your wrist looking up at you.

you inhale and close your eyes for a second thinking about every single possibility this night could lead too. you choose wisely and opened your eyes looking in his direction finally choosing your words.

“prove it.” your tone stern, looking in his cerulean irises to prove your sincerity.

after that he doesn’t hesitate to capture your lips with his, moving together while subtly maneuvering you to straddle his waist. he opens his mouth so swiping against the strawberry chapstick that was worn into your lips and pleading for entry beneath your lips.

your mouths synced together in a deep harmony while both his larger hands came to grapple at your hips to keep you steady on the planes of his thighs. your core just above his clothed cock, you sink down slightly swivelling your hips slightly to create friction.

“bloody hell.” you hear him mumble while your lips were slightly seperated before rejoining them, his slowly growing tighter at the slight friction. one of your dainty fingers tugging at his reed tresses and the other on his placed on his jaw. you move forward again and create more friction against his strained erection, a low groan falling from his mouth.

you had a butterfly feeling erupting in your stomach, as one of his hands made its way into your hair giving it a small tug. a barely audible moan left your mouth, ron pulled away just a millimeter to look into your eyes.

“i want you, right here, right now.”

“what if someone see’s-“

“let them.”

he captured your lips again, placing both of his large hands right under your thighs maneuvering you to the nearest vermillion couch to lay you on. He hovered over you before kissing down your neck, sucking marks on the nearest skin he could find.

you knew you would have to cover them up in the morning, but you didn’t care. you could only focus on his lips sucking on your skin, and tangling your fingers into his fiery red hair.

he kissed up from your collarbone, kissing the fresh red marks that laid beautifully on your skin before hovering over your face again.

“you’re beautiful, darling.”

he leaned in again, tongues prodding at each other lustfully, while his warming taste of spearmint and pumpkin bleeds onto your tongue. one hand aggressively gripping your hip and the other one fiddling with the buttons of your uniform top, robes and ties already discarded when you entered the common room.

“are you sure you wanna do this, m’love?” he asked gently, affirming this is what your intentions were. hearing the repetitive pet names conform out of his mouth sending shockwaves of butterflies erupting through the warming of your belly, mixing with arousal.

“i want you ron, all of you.”

you leaned forward pushing your lips together in a passionate kiss, slotting them together the mess of the kiss being your last concern; while you both worked and attempted to rid each other’s clothes off. both of you left in your undergarments, he disconnected your lips for a moment to take a look at your body and seeing the heavy breaths you took from the frequent moving of your torso.

the eyes the stretch marks on your hips, the small scars from quidditch on your body, the birth marks scattered on your body and he thought he had never seen anything more beautiful.

“w-what?” you stumbled on your words, as he looked upon your body thinking he was judging you. you instinctively almost went to cover yourself, he quickly grabbed your wrist pinning it beside your head before looking deep into your irises.

“you’re the most stunning thing, i’ve ever seen.”

he went to kiss the column of your neck again, slowing down before he mumbled again.

“i want to get you ready for me first, can i do that?”

“please.”

he took off the rings on his middle and ring finger seeing the callouses from the handling of his quidditch broom, and slowly slipping them on your agile fingers and leaning in towards the shell of your ear.

“hold on to those for me, darling.”

he kissed down your bra-clad chest, to your stomach and down to where you needed him most. he slipped off your panties, throwing them on the common room floor before kissing up your thigh.

he looked at your glistening core with lust, his pupils blowing wide before running a finger down your wet folds. you let out a breathy whine before he continued, slowly slipping his middle finger into you and slowly pulsing it in and out.

“ron- fuck.” you hissed in pleasure, from being touched for the first time. “you like that, princess?” ron mocked, seeing your face slightly contort.

a small whine slipped from your slipped from your lips as a response, before he continued his torture on your cunt. you bit your lip, trying to keep quiet hoping nobody from upstairs would hear ron pleasuring you.

he kept a steady rhythm, pulsing his fingers in and out of you knowing how hard it was for you to keep quiet. he kissed your thoughts and stomach while teasing you by speeding up his pace in and out of you.

you let out a moan escaping your lips before biting them harshly,

“come for me darling, come all over my fingers”

you let out a loud moan in response, unable contain it anymore. you felt a wave of euphoria wash over you as you came for him, gripping whatever was close to you. he puts his fingers in his mouth with an exaggerated moan before leaning over you again kissing your lips, making you taste yourself feeling arousal wash again all over you.

he kissed back up your stomach before his hand slid up towards your back, undoing your bra before throwing it towards the floor, along with the matching set of panties. he looked at you in adoration of your naked body, before looking up at you,

“are you ready, angel?”

“but i want to help you too, ron”

you said leaning to grab at his briefs before he grabbed your wrist in his hand, and interlocking your fingers.

“tonight is about you, your my priority.” his tone was hoarse but a mix of gentle lacing it, the last sentences being whispered in your ear. you tried to suppress a shiver before grabbing his face and looking into his sheer-like azure irises.

“i want you inside me” your voice slow and and heaving, you spoke then kissing him again. he moved up, placing himself between your legs and leaning on both of his forearms, one of his hands tangled in your tresses and the other grabbing at your hip.

his cock hard, almost painful and leaking with precum started to slip into you, only managing the tip in before a whine escaped your lips while digging your nails into ron’s flexed bicep.

“it’s ok, m’right here”

he took your nod as a sign to keep going before slowly pushing fully into you. at first his strokes only small, barely there. he didn’t want you to hurt, he adored you and he just wanted to make you feel good.

“ron, please. go faster” you said gripping his hair in one of your hands, and his dipping your nails again in his bicep with the other. he slowly started to build up a pace, he knew you both wouldn’t last long considering this was your first time and the girl he loved was withering in pleasure under him, and only pleasured by him.

he let out a grunt into your neck, as he littered it in kisses while murmuring small praises into your ear. you tried to suppress your moans by biting into your lip, hoping hermione wouldn’t come looking for you.

“ron i’m gonna- fuck”

“me too, come with me” he said in between small grunts. you both let out low moans at the same time before he let white ropes of cum shoot into you and another wave of euphoria washed over you, harder this time. he laid beside you, both panting as he grabbed a blanket covering the both of you. he leant his head on your shoulder, his arm winded around your waist, pulling you closer to him and kissing your shoulder.

“keep the rings, darling, they look better on you.” he said in between pants.

you looked at him before speaking,

“is this the part where we separate and go to our dorms?” you mumbled, scared of his answer.

“no.” he whined, “i don’t know about you, but m’tired” he said sleepily, closing his eyes.

“we’re also naked, the first years will be mortified-“

“don’t care. they can close their eyes” he said, with sass.

“your brothers and all of our friends will tease us for all eternity” you teased with a laugh.

“they’ll be more relived that the pining is done.”

“pining over who?” you said, arching your brow.

“YOU. merlin woman, you are blind.” he picked his head off your shoulder to look at you before putting his head in the crook of your neck, giving it a small peck.

“mortified, ron. i’m telling you—“

#regulus black x reader #ginny weasley x reader #pansy parkinson x reader #blaise zabini x reader #fred weasly x reader #hermione granger x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #neville longbottom x reader #lily evans x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #harry potter smut #george weasley x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #james potter x y/n #sirius x y/n #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley #ron weasley x y/n #ron weasley x reader

[jadedxrealityw]

-Hot All Over- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

    ♡~🐍~♡

   Request: Hey! Happy you're reopening! I have a request, don't know it it's usable buuuuuuuuut I really like the idea of houses showing traits that are not common for them. So for example Draco fancying this Hufflepuff girl but ofc he doesn't approach her because she is Hufflepuff (sad, i know) - but then she does something cool, dangerous or gets a freaking tattoo or idk you know what i mean? and he'd be like DAMN GIRL THAT'S HOT and finally approaches heeer.

   Kody: Oh this is such a good idea, im hella excited now. Added some extra extra for plot.

   Year: 7th

   House: Hufflepuff

   Possible Triggers/Warnings: slight mature themes, slut shaming, Cormac McLaggen

    ♡~🐍~♡

    ♡~🐍~♡

   being a Hufflepuff meant that you valued hard work, patience, justice, and loyalty. It also meant you were stereotyped into a cutesy, muffin baking, defenceless girl. Which you were indeed not. You were very capable of taking care of yourself, but no really saw that side of you.

   to everyone you were the cute little Hufflepuff girl who hung out with the all to famous Cedric Diggory. You guys practically grew up together so it wasn’t rare to find you two hanging out with each other. Two peas in a pod really. He also knew about your humongous crush on Draco Malfoy.

   you and Draco had almost every class together so it was natural that you two talked occasionally. At first it was only him asking for notes he missed, which didn’t seem that friendly now that you think about it, but then he started to actually hold conversations with you.

   soon after you began to notice him stealing glances at you from across the classroom or the one time he not so subtlety mean mugged Neville Longbottom into changing his partners for an assignment so he instead could be your partner. You honestly thought he liked you, hell you liked him too.

   but then he got with some random Slytherin girl. Saying it was upsetting was an understatement. You were crushed, truly crushed. It has currently been a week since the ‘incident’ per say and you had been avoiding the Slytherin prince all together, except for formal ‘hellos’ and ‘sorry for bumping into you’

   as you sat down on the soft loveseat, you feel somebody come up behind you “Hey Ced” you spoke, eyes never leaving the book. You hear his familiar laugh and look up at the same time as he comes around to sit in front of you. “Still can’t sneak up on you, huh?”

   you shook your head, closing the novel in your hands. “Nope” he chuckles and plops himself down on the armrest. “So the team is having a practice match with Slytherin. Want to come?” he asked. You shrugged your shoulders, seeing nothing wrong with it.

   “yeah sure, just let me get dressed” 

     ♡~🐍~♡

   walking alongside Cedric, you adjust the collar of the yellow turtleneck you wore. He had his Quidditch uniform on with his broom in one hand as you both walked onto the field. You looked around seeing the Hufflepuff team and some students who seemingly were going to watch the game as well.

   turning your head to the left you were met with Draco Malfoy slicking his platinum blond hair with his hand only for it to fall back in his face. “Oh shit” you mutter, alarming Cedric. He looked around quickly to see what you were looking at. His eyes stop on Draco and pats your back “C’mon, lets go”

   he ushers you to the Hufflepuff team.

   ♡~🐍~♡

   he watches as Diggory leads you away from his line of vision, his expression saddening. “you look like a creep” said Blaise Zabini, the Quidditch chaser, also Draco’s best mate. The young Malfoy scoffs and turns to face his friend “just ask her out already, it is so painful watching you drool over her” Blaise adds.

   Draco shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest “She’s a Hufflepuff-” “oh merlin here we go again with the house talk” Theodore Nott interjects, going over to lean on Blaise’s shoulder. “What happened to fuck my parents, i’m going to live my own life?”

   and there goes Pansy Parkinson. His whole friend group was on him this time. Draco looks at all three of them and exhales deeply “She’s to innocent for me anyway. I’m a Slytherin for merlin’s sake, i’ll corrupt her” he sputters out. All three of them burst into fits of laughter.

   Blaise grabs Theo’s face and gives him a overexaggerated sorrowful look “Y/n, i am sorry, but i’m afraid i’ll corrupt you with my edge” he spoke with a dramatic tone. Theo stifles his laughter and copies his expression “But Draco i love you, i don’t care if you corrupt me”

   Draco watches the both of them with an unamused expression “I seriously hate both of you, so much” the both of them let go of each other and bow at the same time. “Also that will never happen, she’s been avoiding me lately” he huffs. Pansy shrugs her shoulders.

   “maybe it’s because some psycho girl claimed you guys were together like a week ago. It hurt her feelings! This is why i’m a lesbian. Guys are bloody idiots” she exclaims, throwing her arms in the air. Blaise nods “I would say same, but i’m currently dating this guy so” he points to Theo.

   “let’s just get this game over with”

    ♡~🐍~♡

   the game ended with Hufflepuff taking the victory. You smiled brightly and made your way to the edge of the stands. You held your arms up “Cedric!” you yell out. You watch as the brown haired Hufflepuff turned his broom to the left and began to fly over to you. In a matter of seconds he held his hand out for you and you grabbed his hand.

   he pulled you up and onto to his broom. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he flew towards the ground. Once he landed you hopped off, chuckling “That never gets old” he nods, agreeing. The hufflepuff team landed and began to crowd Cedric and you. Cheering for there seeker.

   students flooded out the stands and most cheered Cedric’s name. Cedric wrapped his arm around your shoulders, giving you a side hug. As most of the students began to leave and you were left with Hufflepuff team “you did great out there Cedric!” you shout in excitement.

   “oh merlin hop off his dick Y/n” someone said from behind you. You turn around and felt the urge to gag. Cormac McLaggen. “Excuse me?” you say, crossing your arms. “You heard me Y/n, we all know your sleeping with Diggory over here. Probably the whole Hufflepuff house” he looked so smug.

   Cedric didn’t take kindly to his words and grabbed your arm, beginning to lead you away “That’s right, walk away Y/n. Hey Cedric tell me when it’s my turn with the Hufflepuff slut” he smirked, chuckling in the most vile manner. He was truly the worst person to ever exist.

   you saw red

   in a swift motion you jerked your arm away from Cedric and rushed towards Cormac, you threw yourself at him. He was knocked to the ground while you straddled his waist. Hands clenched in a fist, you began to hit Cormac in the face repeatedly. Everyone was stunned.

   “You. Gross. Son. Of. A. Bitch!” you yelled, still wailing on the Gryffindor boy under you. Cormac tried to use his arms to block your hits, but it was no use. You were running on adrenaline and at the moment you were stronger than Hagrid. “You. Couldn’t. Fuck. Yourself. Out. Of. A. Wet. Dream!” (not my joke)

   Cormac was able to scratch your face and such, but nothing to damaging. You feel somebody grab you by your waist and pull you off of Cormac. Cedric. who’s bruises had bruises. You huffed and tried to push away from whoever it was, but they tightened their grip instead.

   “Calm down Y/n! Stay here oi have to take him to the hospital wing and make sure he doesn’t get you in detention!” he exclaims and lets go of you, leaving you to sit on the grass. He rushes over with another Hufflepuff and picks the bruised boy up and with that, they both left.

   ♡~🐍~♡

   “i think you did great out there Draco” Pansy gives him a warm smile and he nos to her. “Thanks Pans” he spoke.  “oh merlin hop off his dick Y/n” he snapped his head towards the direction of Cormac like an owl, his face turning into a scowl. “Oh this bitch” Pansy scoffed. 

   Draco watched as Cedric tried to lead you away from the scene  “That’s right, walk away Y/n. Hey Cedric tell me when it’s my turn with the Hufflepuff slut” what did he just say. In a blink of an eye you were on top of Corma, completely destroying him.

   he didn’t know what it was, but watching you punch Cormac in the face with an angered expression was the biggest turn on he could ever imagine. Maybe it’s because he thought you were a innocent girl, but the way you had just tackled this guy was the complete opposite.

   “Beat his ass Y/n!” Pansy yelled, throwing her fist in the air. Draco looked over at her, but Pansy just shrugged. What a instigator. Cedric pulled you off of and left you on the ground to go deal with Cormac. Draco just stared in complete aw of you. You flip your hair out of your face as you spit out what looks like blood.

   in an instant, he was hot all over.

   “Go now, don’t think just go!” Pansy pushed Draco’s back towards your direction. His legs were on autopilot while he walked over to you. He felt the warmth surround him again as you looked up at him, then his hand. Draco looked as well and saw a rag? Pansy must have shoved it in his hand.

   Draco hesitates, but crouches down in front of you. “Can i?” he asked in a low tone. You eye him for a moment, studying his expression before nodding slowly. He uses his hand to grab your chin, turning it up before pressing the rag to your bloody cheek. You wince a pit and he gives you an apologetic look.

   he cleans the blood off your cheek and lets go of your face “That was- what you did- shit- that was hot as hell” he sputter a bit as he speaks. Your eyes widen a bit “Um- thank you?” you said, unsure of how to answer. “Do you want to like- go out with me sometime?” he asked.

   “i know you’ve been avoiding me and Pansy said it was because of the girl i was going out with but she just made that up. I’m not actually going out with her. You see i actually really like you, but i thought it was a bad idea because i’m a Slytherin and i was scared that i ruin your innocence, but you can clearly handle yourself- like damn and i just-”

   Draco’s rant was cut off when you grab the collar of his shirt, bringing him into a quick kiss. You let go and pull away leaving him dumbfounded. You smnicker a bit at his reaction and smile cheekily “Yeah i’d love to go out with you” Draco smiles brightly and leans into kiss you again

    making him hot all over.

   ♡~🐍~♡

   Kody: idk even know what this is. Did i just make three Slytherins gay? yes, yes i did. For plot. Anyways, peace.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco x fem!reader #draco x female reader #slytherin #hufflepuff #oneshot #one shot #one shots #imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter oneshot #harry potter #potterhead #x female reader #x fem!reader

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 3 of 27: Honesty

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

CHAPTER 2

A/N: I’ve come to the realization that I’ve changed so much in this story during the past few days and added some chapters that it can probably already count as a slow-burn fic. I guess. Not sure. Have fun! Thanks for the lovely feedback! I love you all to death <3

Words: 3583 Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!Reader, post-war Warnings: mentions of sex, light swearing

It was weird being back at Hogwarts. Something about it still didn’t feel right. After the war, it was unimaginable for you to come back here and finish school. But they took their time and closed it off for over a year. The school got rebuilt, the victims buried, the survivors tried to heal and move on. On the first anniversary of the end of the war, McGonagall – the new headmistress of Hogwarts – publicly announced that the school would open for the coming year and the seventh graders were given the chance to repeat their year.

You were excited about coming back and seeing your friends again, gaining a little bit of normalcy. School, homework, petty drama – you wanted nothing more than to be busy with all of those things. Yet something felt different when you stood in the Great Hall for the first time after your arrival. Something had changed. You had changed.

“You’re daydreaming again, Y/N.”

Ginny’s voice pulled you back into reality. Your best friend sat across from you with her eyebrows raised, chewing on a croissant.

“Tired,” you replied and smiled briefly.

“From what?”, she asked. “You left super early last night!”

“Yeah, because it was super boring.”

The redhead shook her head. “It was not! There was a fight between two Hufflepuffs and that’s the best indicator for a fun party.”

You chuckled. “Is it though?!”

“Or,” suddenly she put down her croissant. A devious smile appeared on her face and she began talking with a lowered voice: “Did you leave the party early with your date to –”

“I beg you to not finish that sentence, please!”

Ginny laughed. “Oh come on! McLaggen is kinda cute!”

“He’s awful.”

“He doesn’t need a good character to –”

“Ginny!” You playfully threw an apple at her. She caught it, laughing. “You’re the worst,” you said and shook your head.

Just when you wanted to change the topic, someone else started walked in. You stopped midsentence, staring at the couple who were coming down the hall, holding hands.

Ginny saw them too and she knew what you were about to do next. “Don’t, Y/N,” she said softly. “Stay here. At some point, you’ll have to face them. They’re our friends. He’s my brother. We have classes together now.”

You knew she was right. Yet, running away still seemed like a better option to you. Ginny sensed that, reached over the table and squeezed your hand. “Stay,” she repeated.

Ron and Hermione sat down right beside you, cheerfully wishing you a good morning. You didn’t reply but smiled at Harry instead who sat down next to Ginny and gave her a kiss. They were a cute couple and you were happy for the both of them. They finally found each other.

The four began to talk right away. It was still exciting to be in the same year as them, to finally share classes and spend so much time together. Well, not for you to be honest. You could happily live without seeing Ron every day.

You tuned out their conversation after a while, still debating whether or not you should leave the table. Your eyes drifted over the other students in the Great Hall and got stuck at the Slytherins. Not many people sat there as most of them had already finished breakfast. Before you knew what you were doing, you noticed he wasn’t here.

You felt a little sting of disappointment and frowned. Where did this came from? As if you cared about seeing Malfoy.

Saying that you didn’t replay that kiss in your mind over and over again would have been a lie. When you left the small room last night, you felt dizzy and confused. Yet you repeatedly told yourself that the kiss meant nothing. It happened so you didn’t get caught. Good god, it was Draco Malfoy, probably the last person in this school you wanted to kiss (well, besides McLaggen). So no. This kiss didn’t mean anything.

“Y/N?”, you turned your head when Hermione said your name.

“Why are you staring at the Slytherins?”, she asked.

You shrugged but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you. “No reason. I was thinking.”

She frowned. Ginny and Harry looked at each other in confusion.

“So? What is it?”, you asked.

“Right, um, we wanted to ask if you’d like to come play Quidditch with us?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you play Quidditch?”

“Ron taught me over the summer,” she smiled at her boyfriend. “Besides, they have to try out for the team in two weeks anyways so why not practice a little.”

You looked at Ron who stared at his plate. He probably felt as comfortable with the thought of you playing together as you did. The way he avoided your eyes made you angry though.

“No, sorry”, you quickly said and suddenly stood up. “Homework.” This was it. You had to leave.

 ***

You gritted your teeth angrily as you made your way up the stairs. God, you still hated him for how he treated you three months ago. You were supposed to be friends and he fucked it all up. Now you could barely stand the sight of him and every encounter left you feeling like you needed to punch a brick wall.

Being so lost in your thoughts, you almost ran around the corner, crashing into someone.

“Watch it, Y/L/N!”

Great.

“Watch it yourself, Malfoy!”, you snapped.

Draco Malfoy stood in front of you, one hand in the pocket of his pants, the other gripping your arm to prevent you from falling down. It must have been out of instinct because as soon as he realized he was touching you, he let go as if you were a hot plate.

“Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” he stated dryly.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, lowering the tone of your voice a little. “And let me through.”

He did neither. “Did McLaggen find you after all?!”

“None of your business, Malfoy!” With that, you pushed him aside and continued walking down the corridor. You were too mad for Malfoys bullshit.

“Y/L/N!” Apparently he was particular talkative this morning.

You ignored him.

“I couldn’t care less for your obvious boy troubles –”

Who did he think he was?!

“– however, I still have something that belongs to you.”

This made you stop dead in your tracks and turn around. “What?”, you asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

He smirked. “Your shoe.”

Oh. Oops.

Annoyed, you shrugged. “So give it back to me.”

“It’s in the Slytherin common room.”

“I’d rather die than go down there.”

“I’d change the attitude if I were you. After all, you want something from me,” his voice grew colder.

You were unimpressed by that. “Make me,” you shot back.

There it was again – that look on his face. The same look he had yesterday as he gazed over your body in the small room. It made you shiver – and for a second you weren’t sure if it was the good or the bad kind of shiver.

Then he smirked again: “Quidditch field. Tonight after dinner.” And while he already started walking backwards he added: “I’d rather die than be caught talking to a Gryffindor.”

Goddamn Slytherins.

***

It was unusually cold for a September night. You shivered and zipped up your jacket, regretting that you didn’t bring a scarf. No student or teacher seemed to be outside at this time, only the occasional crow flying above your head and the rustling of leaves accompanied you on your way to the Quidditch field.

The reason why Malfoy chose the Quidditch field of all places to give you back your shoe was beyond your knowledge. Yet you didn’t complain. In about half an hour, your friends would join you. Before the war, this was one of your favourite spots to just hang out and talk.

When you arrived on the field, it took you a while to spot Malfoy. He sat way up on the bleachers. You groaned and made your way up the stairs. Malfoy didn’t notice that you came as he was busy writing something in a small green notebook. Huh. Interesting.

He flinched when you sat down beside him and quickly closed the book.

“What are you writing?”, you asked curiously.

Malfoy pretended not to hear your question and instead reached inside his bag. “Here,” he pulled out your shoe, handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you put in the small bag you brought. “So what are you writing?”

He looked at you with an annoyed expression. “You have what you want so you can go.”

“You’re no fun, Malfoy.”

“Says the Gryffindor.”

“Excuse me?”, you raised an eyebrow. “We’re more fun than all the Slytherins combined.”

“Right,” he scoffed.

Still, you didn’t move or leave so with a sigh, he added: “Do you have no friends to bother?”

You grinned. “I do. In fact, they’ll be here in –”, you took a look at your watch, “– twenty minutes.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Perfect.”

“Why did you tell me to meet you here?”

“I was gonna be here anyways,” he shrugged. “Easier to make you come to me.”

You ignored his sly remark. “You were going to be here anyways? Alone?”

Another shrug.

Leaning back, you watched Malfoy from the side. He had dark circles under his eyes and kept his gaze focused on the field, his fingers playing with the sides of the notebook. Something (beside you sitting next to him) bothered him.

“So what was up with you this morning?”, he broke the silence.

You raised an eyebrow. “As if you care.”

“No,” he admitted. “But you’re obviously not leaving until your friends come and that question might make you stop staring at me.”

You chuckled softly. Then you realized that he was actually waiting for an answer. “Nothing important.”

“I figured.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Probably,” Malfoy stated without any emotion in his voice.

You were silent for a few seconds. Part of you wanted to get up and leave. After all, Malfoy was probably the last one you could trust. He didn’t care and it was literally none of his business. You didn’t even like each other. Keeping it simple and vague was probably the best approach: “Dumb stuff, really. Like you said – boy troubles.”

Malfoy shifted without noticing it, turning his body more towards you, leaning in a little. “Well, now I’m curious. Who managed to make Y/L/N this mad and can he teach me?”

“I don’t know if you’re keen on Ron being your teacher,” the sentence just slipped out. You regretted it right away.

Malfoys eyes widened. “No fucking way.” Then he began to smirk – that evil, ‘I’m-better-than-you’-smirk he had perfected over the years.

Your face felt like it was on fire and you were glad it was getting dark already. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the blush. “Oh, be quiet!”

“Weasley?”, he scoffed, not believing it. He stared at you with quite the interest now. There seemed to be a lot more to you than he would have guessed. “How the fuck did that happen? Isn’t he dating the … isn’t he dating Granger?”

You knew what he wanted to call her but were surprised that he stopped himself. That never happened before.

“Yes, he is,” you mumbled and gave him a suggestive look.

This caused Malfoy to laugh. It was a dry, short laugh. He leaned back a little. “You’re kidding, right? Fucking hell, Weasel managed to not only screw you but do so while dating Granger?”

“I like how eloquently you phrased that,” you said sarcastically.

He ignored you. “How did that happen?”

“Okay, first of all”, you began, “… they weren’t dating when it happened. I’m not a homewrecker, that’s probably more of a Slytherin thing.”

“Does she know?”

“Know what?”

“Does Granger know you two f–”

“Geez, Malfoy, watch your language,” you interrupted him quickly, before you added: “And no.”

“So cheating isn’t a Gryffindor thing but lying is?”, Malfoy concluded, smirking again. “Good to know.”

“Oh, shut up,” you raised your chin. You were right about this in the beginning – you shouldn’t have told him anything. How were you supposed to get this right? Even though there was no reason for you to explain yourself to him, you still felt the need to: “They were going through a crisis and broke up and well … I spent a few weeks with their family and I always considered Ron a good friend but … but something happened. And then he ended things with me and got back together with Granger. Well, he got back together with her first and announced it in front of everyone, including me.”

“That’s how he told you that you two were over?”

You nodded. “Yup.”

“Phew,” Malfoy let out a whistle. “Wow. I must admit, I’m impressed.”

“Sure you are.”

Suddenly Malfoys facial expression changed from amusement to confusion. “So what’s the big deal now? You two screwed a few times and now he’s playing house with Granger again.”

You sent him another suggestive glance which caused him to let out another laugh.

“Please don’t tell me you got feelings for the Weasel,” he said in complete disbelief. Then his eyes suddenly began to wander further down and you realized he was looking at your … body. Rude. Before you got the chance to put him in his place, he simply said: “You can do a lot better, y’know.”

Oh. This was unexpected. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks again and felt actually a little flattered by his words. Yet, they confused you. Why would he give a Gryffindor a compliment?! Was there a hidden insult in it? Maybe a slight undertone you didn’t notice?

“It goes without saying that this conversation stays between us,” you cleared your throat. “No one knows about this whole mess except Ginny. And you.”

Malfoy nodded. “You put an awful lot of trust in me.”

“Don’t disappoint me then.”

The two of you were quiet for a few moments. It was almost completely dark by now and a nervous glance to your watch made you aware that Ginny and the rest of her friends might appear any second now. The silence grew uncomfortable after a while.

“What’s up with that whole engagement thing, you mentioned yesterday?”, you wanted to know, remembering that weird comment of him. “And don’t act all mysterious again. I told you my mess now you have to share yours.”

Malfoy snorted. “Ask away.”

This was easier than expected. “Are you dating the little Greengrass?” Totally understandable if he was – Astoria was the perfect mixture of smart and drop dead gorgeous. A lot of guys were into her.

“No.”

“She called you ‘honey’.”

“Yes.”

You frowned. “I’m confused.”

“Do I really have to explain to you how pureblood marriages work?”, Malfoy said with a mocking undertone.

“Of course not. I just thought we left that behind us when the war ended”, you remarked.

He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “As if hundreds of years of tradition can be forgotten with one war.”

“So you’re forced to marry her?”, you tried to understand the situation better.

“No, it’s an arranged marriage which is not even official yet,” Malfoy shifted slightly. “Mother would like it because the Greengrass family is still respected and …”

“… rich.”

He glanced at you quickly. “We lost a lot.”

“I bet,” you scoffed.

Abruptly, Malfoy got up and grabbed his bag. “I should leave.”

Out of instinct, you extended your hand to reach for him but stopped just inches in front of his arm. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that”, you apologized. Feelings of guilt and pity appeared inside of you as you didn’t expect him to be so openly hurt by what you said. “I heard … well, everyone heard about the trials and your parents and all that. Sorry.”

Malfoy hesitated but then sat down again. His whole demeanour had changed in just seconds. He had almost been … approachable but now the look in his eyes was as cold as ice again.

You cleared your throat. “Do you want to marry her?”

He didn’t answer right away. You wondered what went through his head in this moment.

“I don’t ask myself that.”

The answer didn’t surprise you. “Why not?”, you tried to dig deeper.

Again, a few seconds passed before he mumbled: “No, I don’t want to marry her. I hardly know her.”

“Hmm,” you nodded. “Does she want to marry you?”

“I don’t know”, he gave a half shrug. “She had a thing with Zabini over the summer so I guess … I’m probably not her first choice.”

The answer to all of his problems seemed so easy, you thought. Yet it would be met with much apprehension. Traditional pureblood families like his were difficult when it came to this stuff.

Knowing what his reaction would be, you still had to say it: “So don’t get engaged.” Before he could reply, you raised your hand. “Yeah, I know, traditions and all that bullshit. Why don’t you just start breaking traditions?”

Malfoy shook his head. “My family works a little different than yours.

“Not that different to be honest”, you whispered under your breath.

He heard you and you were met with a very confused look. When you didn’t elaborate, he continued talking: “Anyways, I can’t. I could try to postpone but I’d need a very convincing reason.”

“Like?”

“Another girl from a good family.”

“And?”

“And what?”

A grin appeared on your face. “There are at least ten girls I can name right away who’d love to get a shot with you.”

Seriously, even most of the Gryffindor girls your age had been crushing on Malfoy at least once. He was very attractive and clever and that whole ‘bad boy’-act made quite a few girls weak in their knees. You had noticed this too but being so close friends with Ginny and Harry those thoughts never found room to grow inside of you. In your mind, Malfoy had always been an arrogant jerk. Still is, you corrected yourself quietly.

“Have you spoken with them since I became a –”

… a Death Eater, you finished the sentence in your head. Looking at the young man in front of you, wearing his school scarf while sitting in a sports stadium, the whole concept of him being a dangerous criminal just seemed absurd to you.

“Besides it’s a dumb idea”, he continued. “It would be a fake relationship and no one in their right mind would agree to that.” He let out a dry laugh. “Only a Gryffindor can think of something like that.”

In that moment, your eyes met. Never before did you notice the unusual colors in them like you did now. The piercing grey reminded you of storm clouds on an autumns day. Yeah, a fake relationship. Who in their right mind would … Unless …

The sudden thought that appeared in your mind made you flinch. He seemed to be thinking the same when he quickly broke the eye contact, straightening up and staring over at the field.

You got up in a rush, swinging your back over your shoulder. To your big relief, Ginny and your friends had just entered the Quidditch field. Their laughter echoed through the whole area.

„I should go. There’s Ginny.”

He nodded. “Right.”

“Thanks for the shoe.” Could this situation be any more awkward?! You doubted it. Hastily you turned around and almost stumbled over your own feet when you made our way back to the stairs. Something else came suddenly to your mind.

“Oh, and Malfoy?”, you stopped. He didn’t turn to look at you but you knew he heard you by the way he slightly moved his head. “I know a lot of fucked up stuff happened and pureblood families are the worst but … but don’t spend the rest of the year sitting here alone. I bet that there are still quite a few of your Slytherin friends that want to spend time with you.”

There was nothing you expected him to say in response to that so it surprised you when he suddenly said your name. “Y/L/N?”

“Yes?”

“Get over Weasley. It’s beneath you.”

You were glad he didn’t see the big grin on your face.

 ***

Ginny was surprised to see you coming down the stairs and running across the field. She wondered what you did up there and frowned when he saw a guy sitting there with the all too familiar white-blond hair.

“Is that Malfoy up there? Were you talking to him?”, she wanted to know when you finally reached the group.

“Oh, um,” you stuttered. “We ran into each other.

Ginny squinted her eyes. “Right”, she doubted. “How did you –”

Bang! You let out a short scream at the sudden noise.

“Sorry!” Someone shouted and a very distressed looking Seamus Finnigan appeared behind dark smoke.

“What the hell did you do?” Ginny squeaked and with that she forgot all about Malfoy.

You looked back up to where he was sitting just a minute ago. He was gone now. A weird feeling was left inside of you after the rather unusual conversation you had with the Slytherin. You shook your head, trying to get rid of it and turned your full attention back to your friends.

***

I hope you like it! I’d love to hear what you thought about it! <3

CHAPTER 4

“Choose Me Instead”-Masterlist HP-Masterlist Tag List: @writerdee1701​, @youareinllve​, @sjmahoney​, @detroitobsessed​, @takura-rin​, @jadam268​, @wynterwind​, @mina672 , @renaissance-confiance​, @harpoon999​, @doitforthevine67​, @rinasrights​, @flowerpowerpixie​, @gold-flowing​, @starkssnarks​, @bookcornerkins​, @harpersmariano​, @markedsweetly​, @iraniq​, @pointlesscoconut​, @hvrcruxes​, @pillowjj​, @idkatee​, @jungjxxhyun, @magicwithaknife​, @graystherapy​

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list! <3

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor reader #draco malfoy #slytherin imagines #slytherin #gryffindor #gryffindor imagines #slytherin fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #ginny weasley

[training4theapocalypse]

Finders Keepers Ch 18. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+ (no smut in this particular chapter)

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Summary: Hogwarts has changed.

A/N: This took a hot minute but on the plus side I have the next three chapters written and ready to post! Next chapter coming next Sunday <3

Masterlist

Chapter 18: Calling

Your heart pounds as you make your way through the secret passageway from the Hog’s Head to Hogwarts. This must be how some people feel walking out of the dark tent of the Quidditch changing rooms and onto the roaring pitch. But not you - never you. The feeling of the broom handle slipping from your clutch so often you have to swap hands is an unexpected departure from the norm - something experienced by lesser players. 

But this is no game. 

Because if your side doesn’t win, you’ll be sent straight back to Azkaban. And you’re not letting that happen. They won’t take you alive. You’d rather die - you’d rather take a killing curse straight to the chest than go back to Azkaban. You can’t do it again. You’re not as brave or resilient as McLaggen. 

Though you’ve not yet told him this worry that has been playing on your mind as the two of you, Cho, Marietta, Carmichael, Leanne, Katie, Davies and Krum walk down the winding passageway in silent anticipation, each of you with your brooms in hand. 

After what seems like an extremely long time, you hear noise coming from behind a door at the end of the passageway. It’s easy to pretend it’s a crowd of excited Quidditch fans anticipating your walk-out. It steadies you and makes it easier for you to hold onto your slipping broom. As you approach the sounds of chatter and laughter, you can’t imagine what there is to be happy about - the D.A. coins just said that you were supposed to be fighting. Neville Longbottom will be on the receiving end of your fist if you’re here on a fool’s errand.

Cho pushes open the door and you appear to have stepped into some kind of makeshift camp. Around twenty students are milling around underneath a mishmash of hammocks and banners depicting Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff house hangings. A Muggle storybook that your dad used to read to you comes to mind. Peter Pan. You look at the students and realise how young they all look in their school uniforms. This is a hideout for lost children. It makes you notice how much taller and older you are since the last time you were in the castle. 

The old stone walls look like the ones in Hogwarts but you certainly don’t remember a room like this. “Are we - is this Hogwarts?” you ask McLaggen when you, Krum and Davies, are the only ones who look puzzled.

“Room of Requirement,” McLaggen says, squeezing your much smaller, slightly damp hand. His touch is reassuring. You’d wipe your hand on your fresh pair of jeans first if it was anyone else reaching for it. But McLaggen would never be disgusted by your nerves. It only makes him hold on tighter and rub the back of your hand with his thumb. 

The arrival of your noticeably older group seems to have interrupted something important. There’s a split second of silence when everyone turns to look at you all. “I got the message,” says Cho, holding up her fake galleon sheepishly. And that’s when you clock him. 

Harry Potter.

Cho’s ex-boyfriend and Undesirable Number One stares open-mouthed at her. Marietta’s smirk paints a picture of her blatant enjoyment of Potter’s shock even in the face of a battle. Cho smiles diplomatically and links her arm through Krum’s.

You wonder if Potter has been hiding here all this time. In the school itself. If he has, Potterwatch certainly never reported that. 

As the rest of you follow her towards a small group of Ravenclaws sitting on a bench near the back of the room, there’s a mixture of exclamations and mutterings. There’s a spotlight on you. To be observed from all sides like this is suffocating. The last time you were around this many people was when you were marched through the Ministry atrium by Mr McLaggen after you’d just been sentenced to another two years in Azkaban.

“Is that - ?”

“Krum! It’s Viktor Krum!”

“They’re the ones that broke all the Muggleborns out of Azkaban, right?”

“Oh my gosh, Marietta!” The Patil twins and Lavender Brown greet Marietta with squeals and air kisses. You try not to frown. They’re acting like you’re at a high school reunion instead of battle preparations. 

Just then, the crowd parts and you see two familiar faces from the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team. Although you recognise them, their faces are significantly different from when you last saw them.

“Alright, Captain? Azkaban not exciting enough or something?” asks Terry Boot. You gape at him when he shakes your hand. He looks, frankly, dreadful. His lip is bloody and several of his teeth are missing. There are gouges on his forearms that look as though they’ve been made by a blade. Michael Corner, who shakes your hand next doesn’t look much better. His half-closed, swollen, bruised eye resembles McLaggen’s after his fight with Marcus Flint and Cerys Thicknesse.

“Terry! Michael! Has - has the fighting started then?” you ask.

“This?” asks Terry, examining his own forearms in surprise, like he’s forgotten he’s sporting half-healed wounds. “Nah, this was the Carrows.”

“The Carrows?” you ask, thinking about what you’ve read in the Daily Prophet. “Those Death Eaters who’re teaching here now?”

“Yeah,” replies Terry. “It’s not the same here, Captain. I mean, Muggle Studies turned into Alecto Carrow lecturing us on how Muggleborns are just Muggles who stole magic from unsuspecting wizards.”

“I know a thing or two about that,” you say sourly. “I don’t know how much you heard about why I was sent to Azkaban but -”

“‘Course we know. What, you think we haven’t been keeping up with the player who ‘hoodwinked the Harpies’? That’s how I got this.” Terry rolls up his shirt to reveal a long, healed scar on his torso. “Back in October, Alecto was using you and Carmichael as examples of what happens to Muggles who steal magic. So I asked her who stole her magic since she was so bloody useless.”

“Terry…” You’re too stunned to even finish your sentence. 

“Bloody hell, mate. And they did that to you?” asks Carmichael.

“That’s not the worst of it, I mean, Michael got tortured pretty badly for trying to set some first years free from the dungeons.”

Michael shrugs his shoulders and glances at his ex-girlfriend, Cho, expectantly. Perhaps hoping she’ll be impressed. 

“The dungeons? They’re locking students up?” Cho asks.

“Yeah! By their ankles and everything. Hogwarts has changed.” Michael pauses before giving you a funny kind of grin. “They’ve even cancelled Quidditch.” 

Before you can open your mouth to reply, Harry Potter gets the room’s attention. 

“Okay,” Potter calls to the room at large. Everyone shuts up. You feel alert. Not quite the same cheery excitement as everyone else but something is stirring inside you. Maybe your body is relieved that win or lose, this is all about to be over. Potter continues. “We’re back because there’s something we need to find. Something… something that will help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It’s here at Hogwarts but we don’t know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?”

You, Cho, Marietta and the other Ravenclaws exchange significant looks. There’s only one object like that. When you were at Hogwarts, you passed by the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw wearing it every day. 

But Luna Lovegood pipes up before any of you can. “Well, there’s her lost diadem,” she says in a dreamy voice. “The Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw. Daddy’s trying to duplicate it.”

“Yeah, but the lost diadem is lost, Luna. That’s sort of the point,” says Michael, rolling his eyes.

“When was it lost?” asks Potter.

Jesus Christ, pick up a history book. You pull a face and look at McLaggen but you rearrange your expression quickly when he’s just as perplexed as Potter. 

“Centuries ago, they say,” says Cho, much more kindly than you would have. You can’t fathom how the diadem would help defeat You-Know-Who. You picture Potter wearing the tiara mid-duel, glittering above his scar. “Professor Flitwick says the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself. People have looked but -” She looks at you. “They’ve never found a trace of it, have they?” You shake your head.

“Sorry, but what is a diadem?” asks the worst keeper to have ever graced the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. It’s not a stupid question but you find yourself rolling your eyes. Even now, almost two years after Ron Weasley was chosen over McLaggen for the Gryffindor team, his presence annoys you.

“It’s kind of a crown,” says Terry. “Ravenclaw’s was supposed to have magical properties. Enhance the wisdom of the wearer.” 

“And none of you have ever seen anything that looks like it?” asks Potter.

“If you’d like to see what the diadem is supposed to look like, I could take you up to our common room and show you, Harry?” Cho suggests. “Ravenclaw’s wearing it in her statue.”

Potter, Weasley and Granger huddle together to discuss this. Ugh, Granger. You didn’t even notice her at first but the sight of her makes you realise you’re holding a grudge. The scars from her curse still mark Marietta’s face. It’s been years since the entire Umbridge debacle and you can still make out the word ‘SNEAK’ across her nose and cheeks. You glance at Marietta to see if the same irritation you feel is mirrored on her face too but she doesn’t seem bothered. In spite of everything, she’s quicker to forgive than you are. And you think Carmichael has been a good influence on her.

But even though Carmichael might like Marietta’s scars because they give her an ‘edge’, you decide that after the battle you’ll repay Marietta for her part in getting you out of Azkaban by trying to reason with Granger - you’ll ask her to break the curse. If you win and Marietta is seen to be helping, surely Granger will at least do that for her.

“Listen, I know it’s not much of a lead but I’m going to go and look at this statue. At least find out what the diadem looks like,” announces Potter.

Cho gets to her feet but Ginny Weasley gets to hers too. 

“No, Luna will take Harry! Won’t you, Luna?” Ginny says urgently.

“Calm down. Nobody wants your man,” Marietta mutters under her breath and even though you like Ginny, the unexpected jibe makes you snort a laugh.

“Ooh, yes, I’d like to,” says Luna and Cho sits down looking disappointed. You’ve all been trapped inside doing nothing for so long, you know she was desperate for the chance to be useful. Marietta touches her shoulder comfortingly as she sits. 

“So what are we meant to do now?” McLaggen asks nobody in particular as the buzz of conversation resumes and Potter and Luna leave the Room of Requirement. 

“Wait for the Chosen One, to return with an ancient magic relic that’s been lost for centuries?” you suggest, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Should only take him ten or so minutes, I suppose.”

“Viktor!” Calls a voice. You all turn around to see Fleur Delacour entering the room through the passageway with more stragglers. “I ‘ave been worrying about you since I saw you in ze Daily Prophet!” Krum goes over to greet her and she throws her arms around him.

“Woah, steady on Cho,” says Carmichael, bracing Cho’s shoulders as if holding her back. You share her perplexed look when she frowns.

“Come on, she’s not jealous of old friends catching up,” says Marietta.

“Yeah, what are you on about, Eddie?” asks Cho, looking perplexed as she turns to look up at Carmichael standing behind her bench.

“I know you’re not jealous,” he grins. “It’s just that Fleur’s the only Triwizard Champion you haven’t gone out with yet. I thought you might need help restraining yourself.”

“Oh, shut up!” laughs Cho, slapping him away. You and McLaggen crack up at this. 

“Katie!” Another group emerges from the Hog’s Head passageway. You all spin around again to see Oliver Wood, Angelina Johnston and Alicia Spinnet entering the room.

Everyone exchanges hugs and greetings and you keep an eye on the door - the parade of people coming through the passageway is getting thicker. Some you recognise, like students from the years above you, your old Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin and the Aurors who patrolled Hogsmeade in your seventh year. 

“So, McLaggen, is it true that Captain’s been holding you and Marietta hostage?” asks Michael, raising an eyebrow.

You and McLaggen catch up with Terry and Michael. They share more gruesome details of what’s been happening with Hogwarts and you tell them the truth of what happened in Azkaban - from the fight that led to your trial to Carmichael’s breakout as the room continues to fill up with more and more people. 

Sometime later, the door at the top of the staircase opens and McLaggen stands up, looking over your shoulder. “Merlin’s beard, he’s done it. Potter’s got the diadem,” says McLaggen.

“What?!” You stand up, letting your broom fall out of your lap. 

You look up just in time to see Harry Potter practically tumbling down the top few stairs in shock at the size of the crowd. Noticeably diadem-less.

“‘Course, he hasn’t. I just wanted to see the look on your face,” laughs McLaggen.

“Harry, what’s happening?” asks Professor Lupin, meeting Potter at the stairs as you all gaze up at him. 

“Voldemort’s on his way. They’re barricading the school,” says Potter. You inhale sharply and McLaggen puts an arm around your shoulders instinctively. You-Know-Who is coming here. To Hogwarts. “We’re evacuating the younger kids. Everyone’s meeting in the Great Hall. We’re fighting.” 

​​A chill runs through the room, palpable in the sudden stillness that follows Potter's words. You catch Cho's eye, the fear and determination mirrored in her gaze reflecting your own feelings. Marietta fixes the front of her cardigan nervously. McLaggen's grip around you tightens.

You’re fighting. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The entire castle is alight with anticipation. The weight of the impending battle presses down on the atmosphere, darkening the night sky as you and McLaggen lead your group out of the Great Hall. As the most competent on brooms, you and your friends will be covering the sky, leading the aerial defence which suits you just fine.

Cool night air hits your face as the eleven of you make your way through the organised chaos and out, down the front steps of the castle. But just before you stop in the old stone courtyard and ready your brooms, Marietta and Carmichael jog to meet you and McLaggen at the front.

“Wait!” says Marietta, running to catch up. “Listen, Eddie and I are going to find McGonagall and help with her group. Neither of us is great on a broom.”

“What are you talking about? You’re miles better than you used to be -” You start but Marietta doesn’t let you finish.

“This isn’t like practising at home,” says Marietta seriously. “We need to play to our strengths here or else we’ll die.” 

Your mind whirs and you know Marietta’s has already weighed it all up too. Head versus heart. As usual, your head wins. That Ravenclaw logic that you both have in common. Of course, you’d like Marietta and Carmichael by your side as you face certain death but you need to admit she’s right. Everyone needs to do what gives your side the best chance of winning.

“But we’ve been practising for a reason,” urges McLaggen, his heart elbowing its way into the conversation to try and win the argument. “This is the reason! We should stick together.”

“We shouldn’t stick together for the sake of it, mate. Worst case scenario, is that Maz and I hold you back and end up getting one of you killed,” says Carmichael.

All of a sudden, Cho lets out a choked sob and grabs Marietta. You throw your arms around her too and hold on tight. You get a face full of Marietta’s curly auburn hair as the three of you clutch onto each other.

“Eddie and I are better at Transfiguration -” she tells your shoulder.

“Way better than you lot,” calls Carmichael.

Marietta pulls back. “We’re going to help McGonagall with the battlements. She’s already transfigured the suits of armour but we think she’s forgotten about the gargoyle statues on the outside walls.” Her matter-of-fact voice grounds you.

You swallow thickly and try your best to nod. The jerk of your head makes the knot in your throat tighten. There’s no arguing with her reasoning.

“Don’t do anything reckless, alright?” Marietta’s question is directed at McLaggen specifically. He nods.

“We’ll see you when this is all over, innit?” says Carmichael with a cheeky grin that lights up his face. “This time tomorrow, we’ll be back at Seafarer’s having a party to celebrate.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, mucker,” you tell him before he and Marietta turn on their heels.

Nerves. Awful, gut-wrenching nerves rear their head again as you drag your eyes from Marietta and Carmichael’s silhouettes sprinting back through the open castle doors. Your hands shake as you grip your broom and get ready to kick off into the air. 

At least when you were storming into Azkaban you knew what to expect. You were the ambushers. But tonight you’re sitting ducks. You look at McLaggen - his handsome face lit up by the glowing castle torches is so full of determination. His confidence helps you breathe a little easier.

Eleven brooms lift into the night sky, overlooking the ground from the courtyard below to those familiar old Quidditch stands in the distance. The mild summer night air sweeps through your hair. Your stomach settles immediately. You feel at home - just like your first flying lesson at Hogwarts. You were terrified of being launched into the air on nothing but a flimsy-looking piece of old wood. But as soon as you reached a height where you could see everything looking so small you became a giant on top of the world, ready to conquer anything.

You were made to do this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fire.

You’ve never seen flames so high or felt them so hot.

Your face burns, sweat drips down your back and your hands slip from your broom handle.

There’s a snapping and cracking of wood. You’ve never really appreciated just how tall the Quidditch stands are until two of them begin to topple over, burning across the width of the grass pitch in long, white-hot streaks.

Smoke floods your lungs - you’ve lost everyone in the opaque blackness. You can hear their shouting. You need to get higher. You could manage being out here yourself but keeping an eye on the others, worrying about them as they send jets of light through the smog, is distracting you.

More creaking and groaning from above you as you’re forced to double back on yourself to avoid the crashing down of another one of the stands.

Why is everything here made of wood? 

When the Death Eaters set fire to the first stand, the rest of them caught in flames one after the other like toppling dominoes. It’s only right now that you realise how irresponsible it was of you to set McLaggen’s broomstick on fire last year in a fit of rage. 

McGonagall really should have expelled you after all.

You see jets of light down below in the smoke and try not to panic. The smoke is even darker and thicker down where your friends are. They need to get higher too. So high that spells from Death Eaters on foot can’t reach any of you while you regroup.

“Formations!” you yell down into the billowing blackness. “Skyward! Skyward!” It’s useless. Fuck. They can’t hear you above the cracking of the flames and the screaming of curses. You point McLaggem’s dad’s wand at your throat and cast an amplifying charm. “Sonorus… SKYWARD!” 

Your voice - magically amplified - booms across the pitch, slicing through the cacophony of flames and battle cries. Your team appears, rising through the smoke one by one: Krum. Wood. Cho. Katie. Alicia. Angelina. Leanne. Davies. Corner. Boot. And finally, McLaggen.

“What now Captain?” asks Cho.

You remove the amplifying charm. “Retreat. Back to the castle. The pitch is done for and we’re fighting one on one down there -”

“But that’s a good thing!” says McLaggen. “We’re keeping them away from the castle -”

“At what cost?” You snap over the roar of the fire. “We’re not sacrificing ourselves!”

“Listen, I know that you -”

But just what McLaggen knows about you is lost in chaos as a black swishing cloak in a stream of charcoal smoke flies through the middle of your group, sending you all scattering. You just about hang onto your broom. But then another one comes. And another one.

The Death Eaters can fly without brooms. 

This is more than just apparition - they’re aiming themselves as you scatter, trying to purposefully knock you out of the air. And at this height, it means certain death.

Just as the thought crosses your mind - it happens. The world narrows to a single point of focus as you see a figure plummeting through the smoke-streaked sky, their descent uncontrolled and terrifying. All you know when you tilt your broom downwards and speed after them is that they’re one of your group.

If you make it quickly, you might be able to catch them.

“Arresto momentum!” bellows McLaggen’s voice behind you and the speeding body of Alicia Spinnett comes to a cushioned stop just feet above the ground. You decelerate as quickly as you can, your feet touching the ground precisely before you collide with her.

McLaggen lands with a thud beside her and lowers his wand. Alicia gets to her feet clutching her heart, searching for her wand in her pocket.

“Fuck. Shit. Thanks, McLaggen.” Alicia’s stunned gratitude is genuine.

He nods. “Just stay alive, alright?”

The rhetorical question hangs between them for just a second until it's punctuated by a yell from the flames behind you.

“Aha! Stupe -”

“Protego!” You whip around, hoping you’ve sent it in the right direction. Your invisible barrier flies up separating you, Alicia and McLaggen from the Death Eater just in time to deflect a stunning spell which rebounds and knocks him onto his back, out cold. 

"Nice one," says McLaggen. 

“Thanks.” Your voice is as steady as your wand arm, still holding up the shield charm as the three of you scan the pitch for further threats. 

There’s another roaring creak above you. A flaming stand sways in the air and the three of you gape momentarily in shock as the burning wood begins tumbling down.

You and McLaggen retreat backwards while Alicia stumbles the other way. The colossal stand smashes onto the grass between you, sending tremors across the pitch. For a moment, fear paralyses you, the sight of the divided pitch a stark representation of how quickly fate can turn. 

“Alicia?!” your voice cracks as you call out, the fear of loss more suffocating than the smoke as you shield your face from the burning embers, looking for her in the darkness. 

“I’m here!” You can’t see her. And you’ve got no idea where your brooms are. “I’m okay!” she calls.

“Alicia? Cormac? Captain?” It’s Katie Bell’s voice from the same side as Alicia.

“Yaxley! There’s more here!” says a man’s voice behind you.

You and McLaggen whirl around to see more Death Eaters on your side of the pitch.

“Get back to the castle! Tell the others!” yells McLaggen to Katie and you both start sprinting towards the entrance to the Quidditch pitch, in the direction of the castle, hearing the Death Eaters shouting spells at you as you run for your lives. With an awful pang of guilt, you realise you lost your broom in all of the confusion. By now it’s probably reduced to nothing but firewood.

You point McLaggen’s dad’s wand over your head at the stands above. “Bombarda!” With an echoing snap, more burning wood begins to crash and fall.

You run as fast as you can, each step a gamble as you weave through the deadly rain of debris. The screams behind you tell you at least some of the Death Eaters aren’t so lucky. A chunk of wood plummets into the sand at the edge of the pitch with such ferocity, it reminds you of a speeding bludger. Then with a start, a memory from a lifetime ago flashes to the surface of your mind. A memory of a game you watched long ago in these very stands, watching Potter being chased by a bludger around the pitch with such targeted ferocity it broke his arm.

An enchanted bludger.

Just as you and McLaggen run through the entrance to the pitch, you grab his hand and drag him sideways.

“This way!”

“Wha - where?!”

“Hooch’s office!”

McLaggen doesn’t ask any more questions as you race towards the office on the outskirts of the pitch.

You barge through the door and lock it behind you.

The room is undisturbed. It looks exactly how you remember with the cabinet full of spare brooms and cases upon cases of spare Quidditch equipment.

“What are we-?”

“Cormac, do you remember that game back in our third year when Potter had that bludger chasing him and only him? And it broke his arm?” you ask urgently, as you start opening crates, frantically looking for the ones with the training bludgers.

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to recreate it.”

“We’re gonna get a bludger to attack the Death Eaters?”

“Not just one…” You find the heavy crate you’re looking for in the corner of the room and open it with a heaving grunt. Twenty bludgers strain against their straps. “And they need to be enchanted so they only attack the Death Eaters. Just like that time with Potter. They’ll be damn near impossible to stop with a wand. They’re too fast to get a good aim at.”

“You  - you know how to do it?”

“Not me. You.” You look up from the crate. McLaggen’s face is smeared with soot and there are holes burned by embers on his t-shirt. His hair is wilder than you’ve ever seen it. He runs two hands through it in that stressed-out way he does sometimes. 

“I don’t know how either!”

“You worked out how to extend the perimeter of the Fidelius Charm on your own,” you remind him.

“That took almost a week. And Carmichael helped.”

“Now’s not the time for your newfound modesty to make an appearance, McLaggen.” You throw open the broom cabinet and grab one of the spare school brooms. “I can buy you ten minutes.”

“No -” He tries to take the broom from you but you grasp it tight. “No way. You’re not holding them off. I’ll do it. I’m better at duelling -”

Of course, he wants to. But it’s time for you to take a leaf out of McLaggen’s book. It’s time to be brave.

“You’re better at duelling but I’m better at flying,” you say firmly, not quite believing you’re about to go back out there and face the Death Eaters on your own. “I’ll distract them and if I’m quick I might be able to stop them following the others back to the castle.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

​​You drop your broom and put both hands on his shoulders to look him in the eyes. 

“McLaggen, you’re ten times the wizard any of those Death Eaters are. But if you can’t -” You pause thinking about the last time you gave him a pep talk before Gryffindor played Hufflepuff. “If you can’t do this - that’s okay too. Just get back to the castle. Alive. Please.”

“And you?”

“I’m not going back to Azkaban, Cormac!” The words fly out more hysterically than you’d intended. “I either do this or die trying. I won’t let them take me. I’d rather die than go back.”

“Okay,” he says simply, taking your face in his hands. You don’t even realise you’re crying until McLaggen wipes away a tear from your cheekbone. “Okay.”

Cormac pulls you close and kisses you. 

Kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Ten minutes.”

Chapter 19: Quidditch

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#cormac mclaggen x female reader #cormac mclaggen #cormac mclaggen x reader #ravenclaw #ravenclaw fanfiction #smut #fanfic #harry potter and the half blood prince #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #freddie stroma #deathly hallows #harry potter and the deathly hallows #cormac mclaggen fic #cormac mclaggen fanfic #mclaggen x reader #mclaggen x female reader

[peepeepotter]

Hogwarts: New Girl AU

A/N: Warning, some canonical changes were made for plot reasons, the biggest being: Harry and Ginny never dated; Harry, Neville, and Draco are all professors; George has a new WWW store in Hogsmeade. Also, she starts off living with the four guys whereas in New Girl she only lived with all four for about a season. I just thought it would be fun!! Also, when I wrote this it felt a lot longer than it ended up being—so let me know if this is too long or too short or just right!! P.S.: I do NOT condone transphobia (I’m LGBT and will defend trans people until the day I die) and obviously I feel JKR is a shitty person, I write because I like writing and we’ll all agree that 5 year old Daniel Radcliffe wrote the HP series :)

Chapter 1: Who’s That Girl?

Pairing: George x Female Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Words: 3k

Series Masterlist

-

“So, you know in horror movies when the girls are like "Oh my god, there's something in the basement. Let me just run down there in my underwear and see what's going on in the dark", and you're like "What is your problem? Call the aurors!", and she's like "Okay" but it's too late because she's already getting avada kedavra’d. Well, my story's kind of like that.” y/n said, remembering the borderline traumatic moment that happened two weeks ago.

-

Y/N sat in the back of a muggle taxi, on her way to her shared apartment with her boyfriend Cormac McLaggen. Only, incredibly uncomfortably, she was completely naked under a trench coat.

“It’s a surprise for Cormac. I’m just gonna walk in and drop my coat, like BAM. There it all is. He said he has this fantasy that I’m a veela with a heart of gold.” Y/N attempted to whisper into the phone speaker.

“You added the ‘heart of gold’ thing, didn’t you?” Ginny asked, chuckling and knowing full well that McLaggen wasn’t exactly a thoughtful person, and wouldn’t have included that in a sexual fantasy.

“Yeah. I wanted to really get into the character, you know?” Y/N tried to get into the fantasy more, hoping it would make her less uncomfortable.

“Oh really? What’s your veela name?”

“Uh...Fleur?”

“That ones taken, Y/N.”

“Whatever, I don’t need a veela name.”

“Either way, I’m so proud of you for getting out of your comfort zone! Good luck babe.” Ginny encouraged.

As Y/N walked into the apartment, she was trying to position herself sexily in the living room. She laid on her side on the couch. Too cliché. She propped herself on the back of the couch. Too masculine. Eventually Cormac entered the living room from the bedroom wearing only his boxers, making Y/N panic about the fantasy.

“Y/N! You’re back early! I wasn’t expecting you—“

Y/N dropped the trench coat. Immediately after a girl, Pansy Parkinson she recognized, followed McLaggen out of the bedroom. Their bedroom. And she was only wearing her underwear.

“Oh.”

-

“So that’s what happened and why I really need a new place to live. Anyway...what was the question?” Y/N smiled at the four men in front of her. They all looked traumatized by her story.

“Um, do you have any pets?” George asked.

“Oh, no I don’t. Sorry,” She chuckled awkwardly.

“You know what’s funny? When I saw your ad on DumbledoresList I thought you were women.” Y/N laughed. “Crazy, right?”

“Hold up, why would you think that?” Draco spoke before the other two could.

“Just some of the vocabulary used. Like sun-soaked and exposed brick daydream.”

“Draco you wrote exposed brick daydream? Oh my god,” George was nearly in tears with laughter, Harry and Neville following quickly. “Jar, right now, dude.”

“Yeah, jar, seriously. Five galleons.” Harry agreed, pointing to a jar on the mantle of he fireplace with a neon green post-it note labeled “Prick Jar.”

Draco rolled his eyes, getting up and putting the galleons in the jar.

Y/N coughed, trying to refocus the attention. “Look, I really like this apartment. I also really don’t want to live with my friend anymore. She’s a quidditch player...all her friends and roommates are quidditch players. They get into some real weird shit.” Y/N felt like she was pleading with them. Just let me stay here!

“Look I still don’t feel like we know enough—” George was interrupted by Draco.

“Oh, quidditch players? When can you move in?” Y/N grinned, hoping the promise of these three men meeting hot quidditch players would help.

“No, no, loft meeting. Bathroom.” Harry ordered, leading the way down the long hall to the bathroom at the end. When Y/N heard the door shut she quickly and silently followed, eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Come ON guys, she’s friends with quidditch players. Next to veela’s and the girls at Beauxbaton, that’s like the hottest girls in existence.” Draco begged the other two.

“The fact that you’re a professor now and you said that is like...incredibly disturbing.” Harry glared at Draco, George and Neville shaking their heads.

“Yeah, and my sister is a quidditch player so I don’t know about that.” George shuddered.

“I’m not going to lie to you guys, I don’t want a girl living here. Sometimes, I get home from a long day of teaching and I just want to strip and lay on the couch. Let the boys chill.” Harry casually shared. Y/N gagged at the thought, but the other three men in the bathroom made noises of agreement, or at least understandment of his statement.

“I am...actually neutral on this one.” Neville shrugged, causing Draco to scoff.

“You would be neutral on this.” Draco rolled his eyes, but directed his attention toward their fourth roommate. “Alright George, tie-breaker. It’s up to you. Is she in or out?”

“You guys know I don’t do well under pressure like this. Just give me a minute let me think.”

Both Harry and Draco started arguing with each other, putting George under more pressure to make a decision. He slowly backed himself into the stall in the bathroom and locked it. Neville watched everything play out, arms crossed with a smile on his face.

“Oh, now look what you’ve done!” Draco said, gesturing to the hiding George.

“What I’ve done! You started it—” Harry replied.

“Whatever, executive decision—she’s in.” Draco announced.

“YAY! I’m in!” Y/N exclaimed, not able to contain her excitement on the other side of the bathroom door. Draco opened the bathroom door.

“Nobody decided putting a silencing charm on the door would be a good idea?” Harry asked the boys in the bathroom.

“Oh you guys have a stall and urinals? Like a public bathroom? Okay, yeah I guess I can get used to that.” Y/N said, looking around the bathroom that reminded her a little too much of the bathrooms at Hogwarts.

“What do you do for a living anyway? Why do you want to live out here in Hogsmeade?” Draco asked as the group of five made their way back to the living room.

“I just became a professor at Hogwarts! I spent a really long time in both the muggle world and the magical world studying creatures. So, I’m taking over for Hagrid.” Y/N smiled, very excited to be doing her two favorite things in the world: working with animals, and teaching bright young minds.

“Oh, Harry, Neville and I are professors at Hogwarts too. I teach potions, Neville teaches herbology, and Harry teaches...Harry what fucking subject do you teach?” Draco crooked an eyebrow at Harry, purposely acting like he didn’t know what Harry taught.

“Defense against the dark arts.” Harry glared at Draco. “And George here just opened a new Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes shop in Hogsmeade.” Harry said, clapping George’s back. George sheepishly smiled at Y/N.

“Oh that’s awesome! I loved pranks at Ilvermorny. Cormac hated pranks.” Y/N started to tear up, staring off into space.

“George gets it, he was dumped, too.” Draco took his turn to clap his hand on George’s back this time.

“Yeah. Dumped,” George scoffed.

-

“George I just can’t do this anymore!” Angelina pleaded with George as he covered his ears, despite only the one really working.

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU! WE CAN’T BREAK UP IF I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” George yelled.

-

“Yeah, I was dumped.” George shrugged. “What about it? It was like eight months ago Draco! Move past it. Pfft, dumped.” George got very heated over...seemingly very little, Y/N noticed.

“Ignore him, he’s still fragile. Which, you aren’t too fragile, right?” Draco asked.

“Pfft. I’m so tough. Don’t even worry about it.”

-

“We’ll always have Paris. We didn’t have, we, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night. … And you never will. But I’ve got a job to do, too. Where I’m going, you can’t follow. What I’ve got to do, you can’t be any part of.” Y/N was screaming the words of the monologue from Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca at the television, the four men staring at her from the kitchen.

“Feel like we’ve made a mistake yet?” Harry asked Draco, who rolled his eyes and approached Y/N.

“Y/N, stop.” Draco turned the television off. “C’mon, you can’t be like this! You’re a strong woman! Strong women don’t cry over men who clearly didn’t deserve them in the first place! Strong women go out and hook up with strangers in the bar in Hogsmeade to get over their ain’t-shit exes.” Draco pulled Y/N up from off the couch. “Go take a shower. We’re going to the Three Broomsticks tonight and you’re hooking up with someone.” Draco pushed her in the direction of the bathroom.

“And that gentleman is how you take care of a crying woman. Not that any of you know how to handle women at all.” Draco snipped at the three men, who—to be fair—did not know how to deal with women at all.

-

At the Three Broomsticks, the four men watched Y/N absolutely fail at flirting with any even remotely viable man in the bar. Eventually Draco called her back over to the booth where the four men drank and talked about their days.

“Honey, you’ve got to stop doing whatever it is you were doing out there. In fact, you’re going to stop doing anything. You are going to go sit at the bar and look pretty until a man approaches you, and then you are going to smile and nod and agree to go out with him.” Draco nagged. The three other men were chuckling quietly as Y/N trudged to the bar, hoping for men to approach her.

“Anyway, what is this shit we’re chaperoning on Friday night?” Draco turned to Neville and Harry, hoping one of the two would know.

“I think it’s a school dance but like...not fun for the kids at all. Like I don’t think there’s actually any dancing at all.” Harry summed, confused as well. None of them had ever been to muggle high school, and did not understand what a “homecoming” dance was. The Muggle Studies professor suggested it might be fun for the first Friday back to school, and McGonagall agreed as long as the kids didn’t have too much contact on the dance floor. The Muggle Studies teacher explained to the three men that it was “middle school rules, no touching below the shoulders, room for Merlin in the middle.” if dancing were to be allowed. Neville, Harry, and Draco were clueless as to what that meant.

“Glad I won’t be in on that shit show.” George laughed, taking a sip of his drink.

“We actually signed you up.” Draco said nonchalantly, drinking his beer. George spat his beer out violently.

“Excuse me? I have to spend my Friday night watching a bunch of kids...do what? Drink butterbeer and sit on opposite ends of a room?!” George was clearly pissed off, wanting to have done literally anything else with his Friday night.

“I mean, you’ll see your brother.” Harry offered, which actually eased George’s tensions a bit. He smiled, missing his family.

“Oh, alright. Harry, you charmer, you always know how to get me.” George winked at Harry who waved him off.

“How are things going with you and uh...Loony?” Draco asked Neville. The three other men rolled their eyes, annoyed at how Draco still seemed to live in his own little world.

“Luna. And things are going...they’re going.” Neville shrugged, clueless to his own love life.

“Just as expected, he doesn’t know anything.” Draco shook his head at George and Harry, as if Neville’s cluelessness was their fault.

“Are you blaming—” Before Harry could finish accusing Draco of exactly what Draco was doing, Y/N came back from the bar, squealing about getting a date.

“What did you do?” Draco asked, smirking, just knowing he was right.

“I did what you said! I just smiled and nodded and said I wanted to hookup and he gave me his number and now we’re going out Friday night!” Y/N jumped up and down in tiny jumps, starting to fist-pump.

“This American is so weird sometimes.” Harry whispered.

“It’s endearing, I think.” Neville commented.

“Naive, maybe.” George rolled his eyes, the only one who seemed to notice that she blatantly told the man she would have sex with him.

-

When the night of her date rolled around, the four men found themselves with an unexpected floo guest.

“Ginny, what are you doing—” George stood.

“Who told her it was a good idea to get back out there again? That’s not your job, that’s my job. I’m her best friend, you guys are just some weird adult men living together. No offense brother, dear.” Ginny was in the living room, pointing an accusing finger at the men sat on the couch while Y/N was in her bedroom getting ready. Ginny was clearly ready to go out clubbing for the night, and was dressed in a short dress and very tall heels.

“None taken.” George rolled his eyes, plopping himself back on the couch.

“Now I’m going to go handle the mess you all created, thank you very much.” Ginny glared, walking over to Y/N’s room and walking in.

Y/N laid on the ground surrounded by clothes. Her hair and makeup was clearly done, but she seemed stumped on what to wear. She was currently wearing a witch hat, a crop top, sweatpants, and cowgirl boots.

“Y/N,” Ginny sighed. “What were you going for with this?” Ginny gestured up and down Y/N’s body.

“Witchy space cowgirl.” Y/N shrugged. “It seems like something you’d find in a porn anyway—”

“Here, let’s find you clothes that will actually get you laid.”

After about half an hour, Ginny emerged from Y/N’s room first, dressed in a crop top and sweatpants.

“Now presenting, the new but not improved, still absolutely perfect Y/N.” Ginny gestured towards Y/N’s bedroom, where Y/N emerged. She was wearing the short black sleeveless dress and tall heels Ginny had been wearing when she emerged from the floo. Draco let out a whistle, Harry and Neville started clapping, and George was sat, stunned. Well, until Y/N started fist pumping again, then they all started booing her.

“Don’t let me keep you guys, I know you have plans with a bunch of 11 to 17 year olds tonight.” Y/N giggled, watching as the men stood up at the reminder.

“Don’t worry, we’d rather be anywhere else. Even here watching your weird dancing.” Draco puffed, the other men agreeing.

-

“So yeah, that’s how we got a new roommate.” George explained to Fred, who’s hazy, ghostly form nodded.

“Believe it or not, I actually know her. I was her first friend here.” Fred grinned, pointing to himself. George wasn’t surprised. Ever since Fred died and became a ghost, Fred frequently felt lonely, and George knew that. Besides Peeves, he really didn’t have many friends. He couldn’t interrupt teachers while they were teaching, but since Care for Magical Creatures was not a required class, Y/N had a lot of free time. They bonded over pranks, baked goods, and George. “She’s so cute! You totally would’ve dated her a decade ago.” Fred teased his younger twin.

“Yeah, well, things change I guess.” George felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, and looked at the caller ID to find it as Madam Puddifoot’s store number. “One second.” He told his brother. “Madam Puddifoot?” George asked.

“George dearie, your friend Y/N here was stood up by her date. I figured someone should know, she’s in my shop crying and I have to close in,” she paused, clearly checking the time. “In a half hour. Do you think you could help?” George stood, already walking towards the school’s exit.

-

“Oh hello there.” Y/N sniffled, eyes red and puffy as she looked up to see George taking a seat in front of her. “Don’t you have a school dance you’re supposed to be chaperoning.” She furrowed her eyebrows, pointing a finger at him. She meant for it to be accusatory, but with red puffy eyes, George mostly found it (as Neville said) endearing.

“Some things are more important than watching boys and girls stand on opposite ends of a room.” He shrugged, reaching across the table and grabbing his friends hand. “Listen, real men don’t treat women the way you’ve been treated the past few weeks. I’m sorry you’re going through this. If it makes you feel better, sometimes I still call my ex and leave voicemails in a country accent.” George offered, making Y/N giggled, wiping lone tears.

“Well, you can always call me and talk to me in a country accent instead.” She shrugged, in an attempt to help him the way he’s come to help her. “Do you want to go home and watch—”

“Literally anything other than Casablanca, okay? I will watch whatever sad chick flick you want, but you have watched Casablanca like twenty times this week.” George puffed, standing up and reaching his hand out for Y/N. “Let’s go home and get drunk and cry.” He smiled. Y/N grinned, grabbing his hand and letting him walk her out of the shop. She was still embarrassed, but her heart felt a lot better knowing someone came to help her out of this feeling. She’d never admit it to George, but it was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.

-

When Draco, Neville, and Harry returned home, their suit jackets thrown over their shoulders and looking rather tired from dealing with teenagers all night, they found quite the sight for their sore eyes. George and Y/N were stood in front of the TV, clearly drunk, singing along to Heath Ledger’s character serenading Julia Stiles character in 10 Things I Hate About You. Draco, Neville, and Harry all looked at each other, shrugging. They dropped their suit coats and joined in, feeding the fire that was drunken George and Y/N.

And that was the end to Y/N’s first week in the loft above the Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes store in Hogsmeade.

Taglist: @yllwtaxi @ememseay

Thank you for wanting to be tagged!! Let me know what you think, feel free to message me any mistakes I missed. If you want to be tagged, message me/comment!! Thanks y’all :)

#fred x reader #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley #fred and george #harry potter x y/n #harry potter au #draco fanfiction #draco x y/n #draco x reader #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom #neville x y/n #neville x luna #harry potter x ginny weasley #ron weasley #ron x hermione #ron weasly imagine #ginny x luna #harry x hermione #hermoine x pansy #dramione #hogwarts #new girl au #new girl

[emelywrites]

Hi!! I would like to make a Fred x female reader request where they are really good friends and she goes on a date with cormac but he just uses her and is rude etc. And Fred witnesses this and gives cormac a piece of his mind and he takes her on a real date so it’s angest and lots of fluff and cuteness at the end :) can’t wait to see it! I know it’ll be amazing! :)

Hi! Thank you for that trust, I hope I’m able to live up to that, here you go!

Warnings: Language, toxic relationship

A Good Guy

Fred was your best friend. If he ever had to choose between you and George- well he’d probably choose George, but you’d understand, you’d probably tell him to, because you were Fred’s best friend. So when he saw you at the Three Broomsticks one Saturday afternoon in a booth with Cormac McLaggen, after he hadn’t seen you since breakfast, he sure was surprised, to say the least. Sure you’d seemed a bit giddy at breakfast but he just thought that was because you had just finished your OWLs and were now good for the last three weeks of the school year. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you were telling Cormac some story while he was staring down your neckline.

Fred found himself growing angry. It wasn’t that he was jealous - maybe a little, but that’s not where his anger came from. It was that Cormac obviously wasn’t listening to your story, even though you were talking so animatedly. It was that Cormac was staring at your boobs instead of actually caring about you. It was that you deserved better than Cormac McLaggen. You deserved a good guy. Someone like- Someone like him. Yeah, maybe he was jealous.

Only then did he notice the open book and the parchments in front of you. You weren’t even telling him a story. You were trying to tutor him and he wasn’t listening to you. Cormac started kissing your cheek and down to your neck as you were playfully pushing him away and giggling.

„Fred? Mate, you alright?“, George snapped his fingers in front of his face, trying to regain his attention as he had been talking about some awesome prank he was planning to play on Filch.

„Sorry, I was just- I was just distracted“, he swallowed his anger and tried not paying attention to you anymore.

He tried his best to ignore you and Cormac. But he rarely saw you anymore and when he did you were always talking about how charming your boyfriend was. He bit his tongue because even though Cormac was a little shit, you deserved better and he was completely and utterly in love with you, you seemed happy.

He let that go on for another two weeks but he noticed that you looked more tired and stressed. You even stopped talking about Cormac’s charm. He didn’t quite understand where it all came from. You were done with most of your schoolwork for the year. It was mostly just preparation for the next year and leisurely repetitions of what you’d already learned. You didn’t play Quidditch, you weren’t in any other clubs and you weren’t even spending time with him or George or any of your other friends. How was one person tiring you out so much?

Finally he found you in the library one day. You were alone, late at night, sitting in the corner and writing on some parchment.

„What are you doing there?“, he asked when he sat down with you.

„Writing a Charms-essay“, you responded, not even looking at him.

„You don’t have anymore essays to hand in this year, you told me that.“

„It’s not mine.“

„What? Why would you be writing an essay that’s not yours?“

„Because Cormac asked for my help. Now if you would excuse me, there’s only half an hour left until curfew and he needs to hand this in tomorrow.“

„(Y/N), don’t you think he should be writing his own essays?“, he took your hand so you had to stop writing.

„How is that any different than that time I wrote your Herbology essay last year?“

„Because that was one time and I’m really bad at Herbology. It was also half as long as this one“, he looked at the long scroll of parchment, unrolling it and realizing that you must at least have been sitting here all day, „Besides, I paid you back in sweets and thank-yous. What’s McLaggen given you?“

You looked down in thought. Then you whispered: „I don’t know.“

Fred took the quill out of your hand and laid it down. He then took your arm to lead you back to your common room and didn’t leave until you had gone inside. Even after he stuck around a few more minutes, just to make sure you wouldn’t run right back to the library. Only then did he go back to his own common room.

The next morning as he entered the Great Hall he saw you being diminished by Cormac.

„I failed that Charms essay, why didn’t I hand one in? You fucked up, (Y/N), big time. I should’ve never trusted you with this. Because obviously you can’t be trusted“, he yelled at you, loud enough to intimidate you, but too quiet to have anyone step in, or at least no one did. So Fred decided to do it.

„You didn’t hand in your Charms essay because you didn’t write one, you little piece of shit. Start doing your own work and maybe it’ll pay off. Or maybe it won’t. I don’t care either way, but stop using (Y/N) so you can be lazy. Now toss off and stay away from her, wanker“, he turned around to see you behind him, tears in your eyes, but a smile growing on your face as Fred was protecting you.

You both sat down for breakfast and the weight of the past two weeks fell off your shoulders as you got back into a conversation with Fred and all your other friends. When you were about to get up to go to class, Fred caught your wrist in his hand. You turned back around to him and smiled.

„Maybe on Saturday I could take you out to the Three Broomsticks? You know, a proper date, with a good guy?“, he smiled.

Your smile grew as well as you leaned back down to him. „I would really like that“, you pressed a kiss to his cheek and then turned around with a new swing in your step as you went off to class.

Fred was your best friend. If he had to ever choose between you and George he would probably choose you, because you were the love of Fred’s life.

#harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #cormac mclaggen

[cedricshearts]

Treat her well

Cedric Diggory x reader

(not my gif)

Pairings: Cedric x reader x cormac

Warnings: none, it’s just fluffy

Notice: some words may be spelled incorrectly

Word count: 1450

Request: Heya! Me again! So I was wondering if you could do another Cedric x Hufflepuff female reader where they have been best friends before hogwarts and she has a date with cormac but he’s just using her and he’s really rude etc. But as they are on there date Cedric is also there with Cho because well he can’t say no since he’s so kind but he witness his best friends date and it’s absolutely upset by how his best friend is being treated and treats her to a real date! Can’t wait to see it! :)

It was another beautiful day at hogwarts. The sun was shining brightly and it was really warm outside. Most of the students had thrown their robes to the drawer, but despite the warmness, you were wearing your hufflepuff robe. You were sitting outside with your best friend, cedric diggory. You have had a huge crush on him since the beginning of your school year. He didn’t know about your feelings towards him, because you thought it could ruin your friendship with him. You were reading a book about charms while cedric was talking to his friends next to you. It didn’t really bother you anymore, because he was probably the most popular guy in hogwarts at the time. You smiled and went back to reading. Cedric glanced at you few times even though he tried to hide his interest in you. You both were on your sixth year and everything was going just well, except your feelings were getting on the way when you were talking to him. You blushed bright red when he hugged you or even touched you. The butterflies you felt in your stomach didn’t want to go away. 

‘‘I’ve noticed that cormac is keeping his eyes on you, looks like he fancies you a lot’’ Cedric said and looked at you.

‘‘McLaggen? he is okay, i guess’‘ you said and sighed. Cormac was cute, but he seemed a little too excited everytime he saw you. Once he even ran away, because you stared at him for a little too long.

‘‘You two would make a cute couple’‘ He said back to you and gave you a tiny smile. Cedric was also falling for you, but didn’t want his feelings to be shown. It would crush him if you would reject him and the bond between you two would get weird. 

‘‘oh.. cool’‘ You smiled back at him and looked back at your book. Cedric was the only person you were really interested in. You noticed how he also got a lot of attention from the girls. You got really nervous when he leaned onto you and looked at the pages. His other arm was almost wrapped around you and his lips were almost touching your cheek. Just a touch made you nervous. You shook your head so the thoughts would go away and you placed your book back into your bag and stood up. He looked up at you confused while almost falling on the ground.

‘‘where are you going y/n?’‘ He raised his eyebrows and stoop up. You blushed and looked away so he wouldn’t see it. He placed his fingers underneath your chin and turned your face back to him. 

‘‘I’m going to the bathroom to... uhm’‘ you mumbled and looked straight into his grey eyes. He laughed a little and smiled. 

‘‘alright then, i’ll catch up with you later, okay?’‘ he said and turned his face to his friends. 

you walked back in and saw cormac staring at you once again. He kept his eyes on you and finally walked up to you. He had this wide smile on his face and he was almost smirking at you.

‘‘hey beautiful, how are you doing today on this beautiful day?’‘ cormac asked and looked into your eyes. 

‘‘uhm.. i’m doing fine’’ you blushed a little and looked down and then back up at him. 

‘‘i wondered would you like to go on a date with me?’‘ he asked and nervously scratched his neck. 

‘‘yeah.. i mean.. sure’‘ you replied and smiled at him. Little did he know that your feelings belonged to your own best friend.

‘‘wonderful, i’ll see you this evening? we could go get butterbeers in the three broomsticks’‘ cormac replied and finally his smile was back on his face.

‘‘sure, i’ll be there at 6′‘ you answered and gave him a smile.

after that, you walked away from him, while thinking of you and him. You and cormac, for now. You knew that cedric was most likely back in the common room, so you walked in there and saw him. He was reading, not sure about what.

‘‘hey ced, what are you reading?’‘ you walked behind him and messed up his hair. 

‘‘well hello, y/n. I was just reading..uhm.. this book’‘ he said and closed it up.

‘‘interesting.. you know what happened today?’‘ you continued and sat down next to him.

‘‘you.. learned a new spell?’’ he guessed and smiled at you.

‘‘nope, i got a date with cormac’‘ you replied and blushed a little while thinking about someone else..

‘‘oh really? that’s.. cool’‘ he replied and smiled a little. 

for a moment it was just silent. He nervously looked down and was silently in his thoughts. You were thinking about him, about cedric. It would be like a dream to go on a date with him. He would constantly tell you how beautiful you look and would also hold your hand while walking to another place. Just seeing his grey eyes or his beautiful dark hair made you weak on the knees, but you were good at hiding it. You’ve kept it a secret since the first year. 

‘‘i have it in few hours, so i’ll get ready and.. stuff’‘ you got up and looked back at him. He was still thinking. 

you walked to your dormitory and searched for your hairbrush. You brushed through your hair and decided to add a little bit of blush on your cheeks. You were ready to go. To be honest, it was a weird feeling you got. Not the same with cedric. With him, you felt butterflies in your stomach and you could feel your heart racing. At this moment, while walking to three broomsticks, you didn’t quite feel the same. It felt nice... a little bit. When you walked in, you saw cormac there waiting for you. He was dressed nicely and had clearly fixed his hair. When he saw you, a quick smile landed on his face and he walked up to you. 

‘‘wow.. great you’re here y/n’‘ cormac said and offered his hand to you.

you grabbed it and didn’t say a single word. after glancing over, you noticed that cedric was also there. not alone, he was there with a girl called cho chang. You didn’t know her well, but she was really popular. You looked back at cormac a little upset and sat down at the nearest table.

‘‘you look really nice today’‘ he looked at you and gave you a little smirk.

‘‘thank you, cormac’‘ you said and glanced at cedric once more.

‘‘you’re not going to say it back to me?’‘ he looked at you and raised his eyebrows.

‘‘uhm.. you look.. nice’‘ you replied a little confused.  

‘‘that’s right, anyways. I noticed you looking at me the other day. i know you have a big crush on me’‘ he said and grabbed your hand. You felt a little uncomfortable with that situation and you pulled your hand away.

‘‘i’m sorry.. i just..’‘ you shook your head a little and looked down. 

Cormac stood up a little angry and looked at you.

‘‘do not try to deny it! i know you like me, stop denying it!’‘ he said and looked straight into your eyes, a little cold.

You mumbled something and before you said anything, cedric walked over to you two. 

‘‘hey, i think it’s best for you to leave’’ Cedric said and glanced over at you, a little worried.

‘‘and who are you to say? It’s not like you’re her boyfriend anyways’‘ cormac said and walked away angry.

cedric blushed a little and looked down at you.

‘‘are you okay y/n?’‘ he asked a sat down next to you.

‘‘yeah i’m okay, you should go back to your date. I’ll just .. go back’‘ you placed your hand on your forehead and closed your eyes.

‘‘it’s really not like a date.. she asked me to come and i said yes.. really i just wanted to see you here’‘ cedric replied and looked down nervously.

‘‘really?’‘ You opened your eyes and stared at him while blushing again.

‘‘yes.. i’ve wanted to ask you something for a while now’‘ He said and looked back at you. His hands were shaking a bit and he was almost mumbling.

‘‘ask me ced, anything’‘ you placed your hand on top of his and smiled a little.

‘‘i wondered.. would you like to go on a date with me?’‘ he said and blushed. He couldn’t hide his feelings any longer. He had been in love with you for a while now, but never showed it. 

‘‘yes, absolutely’‘ you replied and smiled widely. 

He held your hand for a moment and finally he looked back into your eyes. He was also smiling and was coming closer to you. You felt like your heart wanted to make its way out of your chest. You leaned towards him and finally felt your lips against his.

sorry that this was a little shorter, but i hope you still enjoyed it.

#cedric #cedric diggory #cedric x you #cedric x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #fanfic #draco malfoy #cormac mclaggen #imagine #hogwarts #triwizard cup #triwizard champions #triwizard tournament #amos diggory #cedric diggory imagin

[jamesdeerest]

...surprise?

PAIRING: ron weasley x animagus!reader

REQUEST: anon asked “can you do a oneshot with ron x reader where the reader is an animagus and ron sees them transform into their creature after curfew?”

WARNINGS: swearing as usual, also kind of patronus!soulmate!au?? if that makes sense?? kinda short

NOTES: this is such a cool request! also, if anyone is weirded out by their animagus, it’s just the female version of ron’s patronus :) i thought it would be cool if they matched

“Hey, you alright Y/N?” your friend whispered, keeping an eye on McGonagall who was writing on the blackboard. You jerked up, eyes aching from your lack of sleep. “Yeah, ‘m just a bit tired.” You tried to focus back on Transfiguration, but you felt eyes on you. Flicking your gaze behind you, you locked eyes with the brown ones of Ron Weasley, the Gryffindor who you had been harbouring feelings for for a couple months now. He smiled warmly at you, you tiredly returning it, when he widened his eyes, nodding his head forwards. 

Turning round, you found yourself face to face with McGonagall. “Miss L/N, try to focus on the lesson instead of Mr Weasley, however difficult that may be.” You nodded, trying to block out the snickers of your classmates. “Yes, Professor.” As she returned to teaching, your friend nudged you. “Was that some steamy eye contact I saw? Because I think it was,” she grinned, winking. You groaned, dropping your head onto the desk. “Is this me wanting you to piss off? Because I think it is.” you snarked. She rolled her eyes, before turning back to the lesson.

You felt sleep tug at your eyelids, but just as you were starting to doze off, you felt something bounce off your back. You turned around and saw a piece of paper on the floor, scrunched up into a ball. Curiously, you picked it up, reading the scrawled writing which said ‘reparifarge me!’. You looked up, checking that the head of Gryffindor was busy, before grabbing your wand and performing the spell. In your hand was a potion bottle with a label tied to its neck. It read ‘wideye potion for my favourite Y/H’, and you grinned, unsuccessfully trying to keep your heartbeat steady. You uncorked it, wincing at the ‘pop’, before quickly chugging it, already feeling the effects.

As you left the classroom, talking with your friends, you were tapped on the shoulder. Turning round, you faced a grinning Ron, who you hugged. “Thank you so much! I would literally be dead by now without you. You’re the best, Ron.” you gushed, before pulling away and running to catch up with your mates. Ron, however, stood still, his face matching the colour of his hair. Harry laughed, nudging Dean. “Look, Dean! Ron’s in lurveee,” he teased, dodging Ron’s swinging arm, and mutter of “piss off, Harry.” The ginger shook his head. He wasn’t in love... was he?

Ever since that day, Ron had been slipping you Wideye Potions whenever he noticed you yawning. So, basically everyday. You did not get enough sleep. However, this particular Wednesday, he hadn’t seen you at breakfast, and when he walked into Transfiguration you were still absent. Ron was restless all lesson, his mind slipping from Transfiguration to conjuring up possible reasons for your disappearance, before he settled for asking your friend. She frowned, thinking before leaning over to talk quietly to him. “She’s up in her dorm, not feeling well. Don’t tell her it’s me, but I can get you up there later, I have a feeling she’d like to see you.” your friend said, smirkingly knowingly at the blush on Ron’s cheeks.

“Alright, everybody’s at dinner so you can go in now. Y/N’s dorm is the one third from the left, the one with all the stickers on it. Have fun, but not too much,” your friend winked, standing with Ron outside the Y/H common room. She quickly muttered the password, before gesturing Ron to go in, and then left for dinner, giggling. 

Ron looked around the Y/H common room for a second, before going over to the girls’ dorms, making sure noone could see him. He didn’t want to be known as the school creep and steal McLaggen’s title, as much as he hated the git. He counted the doors on the left as he passed, one, two, three! Knocking softly on the door, he pushed it open just in time to see you transform, your shape changing seamlessly into a new form... a Jack Russell terrier? His heart stopped. That was... his patronus. 

Suddenly, your furry head whipped round to face him, your eyes going wide, before quickly changing back. “Ron! What-what are you-” he strode forward, stopping centimetres from you, your breaths mingling. You both froze, eyes staring into eyes, noses brushing. Ron suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, his hands gently cupping your face. You gasped into the kiss, before melting into it, your hands coming up to run through his hair. 

Pulling away, he grinned at you, chocolate brown eyes sparkling. 

“Hello, soulmate.”

oh my god this was so fluffy :)))

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!

send an ask if you want to be added to my tag list!

tags: @blackpinkdolan @hoewkeye @shadyladyperfection @sassy-specter @i-am-eating-rn 

requests are closed :)

#ron weasley x reader #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley fluff #harry potter fanfiction #pottair writes

[training4theapocalypse]

Freddie Stroma Masterlist

training4theapocalypse on AO3

Adrian Chase - Peacemaker DCEU

On Her Majesty's Supersonic Service (Adrian Chase x MI6 agent female reader)

Chapter 1: For Your Ears Only 

Chapter 2: Bird After Reading 

Chapter 3: The Spy Who Came out in the Cold

Chapter 4: No Time to Cry

Chapter 5: From Gotham with Love

Thirsty (Adrian Chase x civilian female reader)

One shot

And They Call Me Crazy (Adrian Chase x civilian female reader)

One shot

Never Been Kissed (Adrian Chase x 11th Street Kid female reader)

One shot

Tiny Stitches (Adrian Chase x civilian gn reader)

One shot

Cormac McLaggen - Harry Potter

Finders Keepers (Cormac McLaggen x Ravenclaw female reader)

AN: I find JK Rowling’s views abhorrent. I know that a disclaimer doesn’t change the fact I’m writing porn about one of her characters but I do not support her in any way.

Chapter 1: Amortentia

Chapter 2: Confundo

Chapter 3: Poster Girl

Chapter 4: The Invitation

Chapter 5: Firewhisky

Chapter 6: First Name Basis

Chapter 7: Fine

Chapter 8: Incendio

Chapter 9: Real

Chapter 10: Electricity

Chapter 11: Blood Traitor

Chapter 12: Cold, Hard Facts

Chapter 13: Dunkirk

Chapter 14: Preparations

Chapter 15: Freedom

Chapter 16: Relax

Chapter 17: Purpose

Chapter 18: Calling

Chapter 19: Quidditch

Bonus: Finders Keepers Slytherin/Hufflepuff headcanon

A Nest of Vipers (Cormac McLaggen x Slytherin original female character)

Chapter 1: Smudge

Chapter 2: Struggle

Chapter 3: Service

Chapter 4: Skill

Chapter 5: Suffocate

Chapter 6: Slughorn's Party

Jeffrey Steinberg - Hidden Signal Evergreen, Podcast

Pushover (Jeffrey Steinberg x female reader - Hidden Signal: Evergreen)

Chapter 1: Pushover

Chapter 2: Nice Guy

Yes, chef

(Jeffrey Steinberg x fem!reader)

One shot

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#masterlist #fanfic #fanfiction #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x female reader #adrian chase x you #vigilante x you #vigilante x reader #peacemaker #on her majesty's supersonic service #supersonic #ohmss #Freddie stroma #harry potter fanfic #Cormac mclaggen x reader #jeffrey steinberg #jeffrey steinberg x reader #finders keepers fic #hidden signals: evergreen #evergreen podcast #harry potter fanfiction #cormac mclaggen #cormac mclaggen x female reader #ravenclaw fanfiction #ravenclaw #slytherin fanfiction #slytherin x gryffindor #ravenclaw x gryffindor #a nest of vipers #finders keepers

[training4theapocalypse]

Finders Keepers Ch 17. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: SMUT, PIV, a little bit rough but, like, in a romantic way, author once again refusing to acknowledge she has a hand covering mouth during sex kink

Summary: At Seafarer's Beacon you feel stuck in limbo. McLaggen is determined to do something to give you purpose again.

A/N: I'm sorry I teased a little subby moment with McLaggen at the end of the last chapter but this chapter took so many rewrites because it turns out I don't have a dominant bone in my body so you'll need to pretend it happened off-screen. Anyway...

Masterlist

Tag list: @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark, @intense-sneezing, @lipstickandloveletters, @ichorai, @marmie-noir, @lolitstiana, @evabellasworld, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @xyzstar, (let me know if you want removed at any point btw!)

Chapter 17: Purpose

You spot a tiny white spatter on the t-shirt you’re wearing as you finish brushing your teeth before bed in the bathroom. It’s clean. Or at least was until your spearmint toothpaste marked it. Freshly laundered so it doesn’t smell like him in the way you’d prefer. The shoulders are too broad. The seams hang loosely around your arms. But the old Gryffindor Qudditch training top fits you like you’re wearing a piece of his soul.

“I’ve got toothpaste on your top,” you remark absently to McLaggen next door in the bedroom. 

It’s not like you’ve said something profound but when McLaggen doesn’t reply it sticks out like a splinter. You often bat snippets of unremarkable things to each other, like two beaters at bludger practice. If he finds something useful from a book from his uncle’s collection, he just reads it aloud and says “I should remember that,” instead of writing it down. As if imprinting the words on you means he’ll commit it to memory. 

But when he doesn’t fire something back, you open the bathroom door. He’s sitting shirtless in his plaid pyjama bottoms. Even though it’s the coldest Christmas Eve that you ever remember experiencing, your bedroom at the top of the lighthouse is warm. Heat from the hearth in the kitchen on the bottom floor rises the whole way through Seafarers Beacon, making everything feel warm and cosy. You tilt your head, waiting for him to lower the copy of this morning’s Daily Prophet but he doesn’t notice you standing in the doorway - he’s holding it so high that it’s covering his face.

“Are you still reading that?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

You glance at the white, frosty landscape outside the window as you wander over and climb into bed beside him, reading over his shoulder. The development he’s reading about isn’t significant - a short paragraph assuring the wizarding community that repairs to Azkaban are ongoing - but there’s a tiny quote from his dad that he read out to you this morning. And he’s been reading and re-reading all day, ever since his eyes first landed on it on the kitchen table while the rest of you were talking and buttering toast.

“I’m sorry you can’t see your mum and dad tomorrow.”

It’s not that you’ve been having an unpleasant time at Seafarer’s Beacon. But Christmas here has felt like a strained effort to replicate Christmas at home, or even, to some extent, Christmas at Hogwarts. Marietta has spent the past few days decorating the kitchen at the bottom landing of the lighthouse. Paper snowflakes whirl around the empty space in the middle of the empty space between the staircase spiralling around the outer walls and up the seven floors. 

“It’s fine,” McLaggen says and clears his throat. “I’m okay.”

“It’s not fine.” You rest your hand on his arm and he lets the Daily Prophet fall to his lap, still staring at the small paragraph with his dad’s words. “I wish I could see my mum and dad too - it’s okay for us to be sad about it.”

He nods. “I know - I miss them. Especially after reading about Dad today. But this time of year makes me… I - I dunno. It’s complicated. I still haven’t really forgiven him for handing you over.”

“Cormac -” you hesitate. “- your dad… he did what he had to do. I forgive him for choosing to save you and your family over me - someone who’s practically a stranger. I mean, if I was in his position…?”

He presses his palms hard into his eyes. Usually so bright and green, tonight they’re bloodshot. “You’d really make a choice like that?”

“All I know is that right now, I’d do whatever it takes to keep us safe.”

“All of us,” he affirms, sitting up properly.

“Well… yes -” You say slowly. “But if it comes to it, what I meant was you and I.”

“Don’t talk like that. We’re all in this together.”

“Cormac, you had to choose between me and Eddie when you had to get one of us out of Azkaban -”

“That was different.”

“Every single time we’re faced with a difficult decision it’s different. It was different for you. Different for your dad. We’re in the middle of a war and that’s how war is.”

McLaggen tosses the newspaper aside. “I just wish we could do something. Something to win the war. I feel useless stuck in here.”

“I don’t think there is.” 

Because you’ve already racked your brains. You and McLaggen have had this conversation several times already.

Both breakouts from Azkaban have rendered you almost completely isolated from the outside world. Now that Marietta and McLaggen are both assumed kidnapped, your insider knowledge of the Ministry has been shut off. With Krum and Davies here, you’ve got no idea what’s happening internationally. The only real source of information you have that isn’t Ministry propaganda is Potterwatch, and aside from reporting deaths and other swathes of bad news, they don’t seem to have much more information than you do holed up here.

“What about the snatchers they mentioned on Potterwatch? Couldn’t we go after them?” he asks.

“And what are we supposed to do with them? We can’t hand them in to the aurors. It’s not like they’re doing anything illegally - this is all Ministry sanctioned,” you remind him.

“I was more thinking along the lines of teaching them a lesson.”

“What? Like, kill them?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Nah just scare them - rough them up a little.”

“Cormac,  we’re not gonna start dealing out vigilante justice. And especially not when half of us are Undesirables. It could go seriously wrong.” You tilt your head, feeling slightly worried that being so cooped up, being away from his parents and the rest of the outside world is making him want to behave recklessly. “And you’re supposed to be kidnapped, remember? If you’re seen outside again people will get suspicious. All we can do is wait,” you say softly, touching your lips against his bare shoulder. “Wait here and stay safe.” 

He shakes his head. “We should be training. Like when Potter was in charge of Dumbledore’s Army. Duelling. Practising defensive spells. If we’re prepared then maybe, just maybe, none of us will have to make a difficult choice about who to save.” 

You nod and rest your head on your white down pillow, looking at him as you lie on your side. “Let’s start the day after tomorrow. First thing on Boxing Day.” 

“Yeah?” He cocks an eyebrow as if he was worried you’d think it was another bad idea. 

“Yeah, it’ll give us something useful to do - I’m kind of sick of doing nothing.” You sigh. “Being here has made me realise how slowly time passes without Quidditch… I wish there was enough room to fly properly.”

Cormac rests his head on the pillow too, lying on his back and looking up at the curved, coral ceiling thoughtfully. His brow is slightly furrowed in concentration. 

“I could try to work out how to extend the perimeter of the Fidelius Charm?”

“You can do that?” You blink. Your heart soars at the idea that you might be able to feel the wind in your hair again.

“I mean, it definitely won’t be easy but - yeah, I think so. I’ll get it sorted if it’d make you happy. Who knows how long this war will last? You might as well have someplace to fly.”

God, he’s so sweet. 

You don’t say anything else. You don’t need to. Instead you curl into the crook of his arm and you both drift off. You, wrapped in his arms as your dreams take you to the sky once more. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Training breathes new life into Seafarer’s Beacon. Everyone is invigorated by the opportunity to do something that isn’t just lounging around, existing. You’re Dumbledore’s Army, after all. You’re part of the resistance.

McLaggen and Eddie spend days working out how to do an extremely complex piece of magic to extend the perimeter of the Fideleus charm so you have space to fly. You think you could cry when you get onto your broom and fly properly for the first time since your mission to Azkaban. 

Marietta gets to work transfiguring a scarecrow into a working duelling dummy and creating so many duplicates you feel like you’re facing a small army when you step into the garden one spring afternoon.

Cho scours the Daily Prophet - her curious intellect and keen eye for detail help her read between the lines to make sense of what’s really happening. She sends coded letters with her theories to Lee Jordan so he can confirm them with his contacts and inform Potterwatch listeners. You all huddle around the radio every other night and you squeeze her hand when Lee’s reporting follows her leads.

Katie and Leanne find that there’s more than just fiction in McLaggen’s uncle’s old bookcase and find an extensive collection of defensive spells and healing potions that can be used in combat. They forage herbs in the lighthouse’s magical garden and order rarer potion ingredients by owl post.

You, Krum and Davies, put everyone through flying drills until even Marietta is confident on a broom. Everyone practises casting curses while flying - it’s much harder to keep balance than it looks. When Krum finds out just how talented a Seeker Cho is, you can practically see little hearts forming in his eyes. When you toss an apple her way one day in the kitchen and she catches it one-handed without even looking, you think Krum might propose to her then and there. 

Even as the months slip by, the Ministry is taking your threat about breaking into Azkaban again seriously. There have been no more Muggleborns sent to prison. And you tell yourself that as long as you’re here, and the Ministry knows you’ll retaliate, you’re doing something to help win this war.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“See anything?” asks McLaggen, one late May evening as the two of you finish clearing up the garden after duelling practice. You can hear the others in the kitchen having final cups of tea before bed except for Cho who had to run upstairs to wash her hair after you sent such a powerful disarming spell your way that she’d ended up flat on her back in the rather muddy vegetable patch.

“I think something might have cracked a window pane on the greenhouse?” You suggest as you wave your wand over a heavily battered and burned duelling dummy. “Reparo!”

“On it,” says McLaggen, wandering over to assess the damage. “...I can’t see anything” He calls from behind the greenhouse. 

“I definitely heard something smash,” you say, frowning at a slightly squashed courgette in the vegetable patch and making a mental note to cast a protective charm over them next time you’re practising in the garden. “I hope it’s not one of the lighthouse windows.”

You follow the garden path around past the greenhouse to find McLaggen standing at the other side of Seafarer’s Beacon, pointing his wand at a window. Beautiful, warm light cascades across his handsome face. It’s late evening but the sun still hasn’t set. 

“Found it. It was a window. Easily fixed though,” he says, lowering his wand and turning to face you. “You’re getting much better at duelling by the way. That last one with Cho was pretty evenly matched.”

“I’m just glad I’m not the worst anymore. I think I’m better than Marietta now. Maybe Eddie too - on a good day.”

“Not everything has to be a competition,” laughs McLaggen before kissing the top of your head and pulling you into his chest.

“That’s easy for you to say when you’re winning. You’re the best at duelling,” you grumble, although you’re not jealous. The thought is a comforting one, you think as you close your eyes and inhale his dark, spicy scent.

“No, I think Krum is probably the best,” says McLaggen thoughtfully.

You look up at him. “Y���know when I first met you, I don’t think you’d ever have admitted someone was better than you at something,” you tease.

He chuckles softly. The garden hums with the sounds of nature as McLaggen holds you to his chest and stares out at the amber sky as the sun sets over the sea, interrupted only by the distant echo of laughter from the kitchen from inside - the unmistakable noises of the others joking together before they retire to bed. 

“Thank you for doing all this,” you tell him. Just being on a broom has - ironically - grounded you. It’s made everything feel alright again. And now that you’re spending every day outside in the fresh air and every night insight surrounded by your new found family, the shadows of Azkaban have long left your face. 

“It wasn’t just me. Eddie helped with the Fidelius Charm -”

“Not just the Fidelius Charm. For giving us all purpose again. And somewhere safe to stay.” 

“It’s my Uncle’s house -”

"You know -" you cut across him, " - when you volunteered to apparate home with Mary Cattermole, I was furious with you because I was scared." Your eyes meet his green ones, finding the warmth and strength that’s become so familiar. "But I should have expected it from you. You always go way beyond what any ordinary person would do in that sort of situation. And I mean, for goodness sake, who else out there can say their boyfriend got them out of Azkaban?"

McLaggen exhales in an embarrassed sort of way and turns his head back from the window. “It’s not - I mean when you say it like that it sounds much more impressive than it is. I’m just doing what anyone else would do. ”

"Most people would save their own skin.” You put your hand directly above his heart, feeling it beating through his chest. "That fact we’re all still alive isn’t because of this lighthouse. It's because of who you are,” you tell him fiercely.

You look up at him, bathed in the warm light from the sun against the backdrop of the whitewashed lighthouse. He looks down at you with an oddly reminiscent look on his face.

“You’re more like yourself again.”

You nod. The past few months have made you feel like you’re the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain again. You love getting to fly with Cho and Davies again. It’s just like old times. But you never dreamed you’d be flying with Viktor Krum, never mind have him actually take direction from you when you yell mid-air about flying formations for combat. 

Cormac curls a finger under your chin and kisses you. You link your arms around his neck, pulling yourself close to him. Everything slots together perfectly. Well, almost perfectly - you need to stand on your tiptoes but to you, that just makes him more perfect. Like he’s your missing piece of a puzzle.

He parts his lips and your tongue finds his. Your fingers become entwined in Cormac’s messy curls as you press your hips into his. The world outside the Fidelius Charm might be chaotic, fraught with fear and devastation and death but in this pretty, seaside garden where the evening light warms your back as you kiss Cormac, you have the sanctuary of each other. 

Cormac’s large hands roam the curve of your waist under your t-shirt and you feel callouses on his palms and fingertips from so much flying and duelling. And you know he believes if you all train enough none of you will ever fall in the war. He trains so hard because he thinks that if he does when the time comes, he can protect everyone. Save everyone. 

And you hope beyond hope that you’ll never need to put your training to use. But you’ve been listening to Potterwatch every night. The tone has been subtly shifting since your giggled huddling and listening back before Christmas. You know things are getting worse out there. Something in the air tells you that you’re going to have to act - and soon. 

But not right now.

Right now all you want to think about is each other.

“You know, you don’t have to be so selfless all the time,” you say, unfastening Cormac’s belt and getting to your knees on the grass in front of him. Fuck, he looks even taller like this. 

He wastes no time helping you and pulls his cock out from his boxers. You blink up at him, taking a shuddering breath when you see him - already thick and hard and ready for you. Even after all this time together, your stomach flips when you’re reminded that his cock is just as beautiful as he is. You take him in your hands and place tiny kisses along the underside of his length.

“You can let me do things too,” you whisper, his tip just brushing your lips as you breathe the words. Cormac leans his head back against the curved exterior wall. 

You can’t take your eyes off him as you slowly wrap your lips around his head and circle it with your warm, hot tongue. The light makes every hair visible on the small strip of skin on his lower abdomen, shining and golden. The tiny freckles on his arms are getting darker now the early summer sun has been cascading down on you while you’ve been training in the garden.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he tells you, threading his hands through your hair. He’s messing it up but the ache between your legs is pulsing too pleasantly for you to care. It would almost be distracting if you weren’t so preoccupied with sucking and swirling your tongue around him. “My pretty girl.”

You stare up at him with wide eyes as he swallows thickly and leans his head back. His adam’s apple is visible as he swallows back a steadying breath. Just seeing him enjoying the feel of your hot, wet mouth makes you moan around him. The vibrations make his eyes snap back towards you just in time for him to watch you swallow his entire length down your throat. His grip tightens in your hair when he bottoms out and lets out a groan.

You don’t hold back. You press your head down as much as you can, blocking your own airways and feeling saliva dripping down your chin as his cock fills your mouth up. Cormac gently pulls back, letting you briefly take a gulp of air but the way you eagerly take him again makes him pant harder, his shoulders rising and falling with his breathing as you work your mouth. 

“Fuck, let me fuck you.” You detach from him with a gasp and shake your head, blinking back tears. His grip tightens. “I don’t want to cum. Not yet.”

“Be selfish for once. Finish here. Please,” you say through laboured pants as you jerk him off in your hand and present your tongue. You go to take him in your mouth again but he grabs your upper arm.

“I am being selfish.” Cormac hoists you to your feet. Before you know it, you’re being spun around and pressed up against the wall. You feel the bumpy whitewash paint under your palms when he whispers in your ear from behind. “You think I want to fuck you as a favour to you or something?”

His hands unbutton your jeans and he pulls them and your underwear down over your ass. You’re able to turn your head just enough to see him casting his eyes over your body with that appraising smirk that makes you fold every fucking time you see it. It’s been over a year and a half since that stupidly gorgeous dimpled smile made you feel butterflies in a way you hadn’t expected. Just that look is still enough to make you feel like you’ve been knocked off your broom.

And to him, the way you look right this second - dishevelled and pouting because you’re not getting your own way - is equally captivating. Everyone thinks you’re the loud, domineering one in the relationship and that it’s him who goes along with whatever you say. But Cormac doesn’t care what they think because he knows the truth of it. Even when you take the reins, climbing on top of him or setting the pace, all it takes is a single whispered word from him, or his hand gently guiding you at your lower back that keeps your dynamic exactly how he likes it. 

And here you are once again, as malleable as if he’s used a softening charm on you. 

Before you realise what’s happening Cormac’s tongue sucks your earlobe as he presses your body between his and the wall. You open your mouth to argue but instead take a sharp inhale when he slaps your ass, followed quickly by his hands groping and massaging all over your body - going from squeezing your backside to groping your tits and back again like he doesn’t have enough hands to touch you everywhere he wants to at once.

“I - I wanted to make you cum with my mouth,” you complain as he pushes your bra up to pinch your nipple between two fingers but you don’t protest any further - you’re too turned on to care. From how flush he’s pressed against you, you can feel his hard cock pressed up against your backside, wet with your saliva and his precum. 

You’d think after a hard day of training, Cormac would be exhausted - that he’d have no testosterone left in his body. But you know from experience over the past few months that this isn’t the case. You’re not sure whether it’s seeing you fight that turns him on or if his ego is slightly bruised from having Krum as fierce duelling competition - either way, he comes to bed most evenings murmuring sweet things in your ear and slipping his Gryffindor training tshirt off our your body before you’ve barely had a chance to wear it.

This evening is only different because he can’t wait until you’re back in your bedroom to have you. He kisses your neck and draws the tips of his fingers along your slit, dragging your wetness over your clit. 

“I couldn’t let that happen. Not when all I can think about is how wet this cunt is for me,”

You let out a low, shaky breath. Fuck, you love it when he gets in this mood. He’s so filthy. Talking to you like how you sort of expected he would when you first met him. Before you found out how sweet and soft he is. 

Usually.

Fuck.

Your legs twitch involuntarily when Cormac drags the pad of his middle finger across your clit and dips it through your sopping-wet folds. You can’t move much but you can’t stop your hips from grinding with his fingers, chasing the feeling of him toying with you. 

“Yes. Ah fuck - yes,” you squeal as he draws the words from you with his touch.

“Shh, shh, shh…” He soothes, tutting gently. He pulls his wet fingers back over your clit, swirling in circles around the throbbing clutch of nerves. “The others are through the wall. You need to be quiet.”

As if testing you, his wet strokes over your clit pick up pace - his calloused fingers feel so deliciously wet and rough all at once. You whine pathetically. 

“Can’t you - oh, god, can’t you cast a sound-dampening charm?” you whimper, your fingers searching for something to grip. Your palms just claw helplessly against the surface of the exterior wall as his chest presses into your back. 

“I don’t think so. I think you need to show me you can be good.”

You squirm but there’s nowhere you can move while you’re pressed between him and the wall. “I will. I’ll do whatever you say,” you pant. The pads of Cormac’s fingers continue pressing circles the pressure building inside you as your walls clamp around nothing. You need him - you need his fingers, his cock - fuck, anything inside you. “Just fuck me. Please, Cormac.”

You know the drill. You know he loves hearing his name. Having you beg for his cock. And you’re running out of time - your twitching and convulsing is picking up pace. “Q-q-quick, please, I want to cum on your cock.”

Cormac’s hands leave your body so he can take his cock and tease you between your folds. You feel the tip of his cock at your entrance and whine. Fuck, you need to cum. You bring your hand between your legs to start rubbing yourself in his absence but he moves your hand out of the way.

“Keep your hands where they were.”

You place your palms flat against the wall, splaying your fingers, and feel your knees buckle when Cormac sheathes himself into you with one forceful roll of his hips. 

He curls one arm around your chest and the other slips down your body to play with your clit as he jerks his hips up, each thrust sends his hips smacking against your skin.

The burning ache in your pelvis crackles and fizzes inside you while Cormac fucks you. Your hands scrabble against the wall and you feel chalky, white paint crumbling under your fingernails as the walls of your cunt spasm, grateful for Cormac’s long, thick cock to grip onto.

“Fuckfuckfuck-” The curse tumbles from your lips. You’re so boxed in that your cheek presses against the rough surface of the wall. All you can do is close your eyes and fucking take the way that Cormac is brutally slamming himself into your tight heat while his hand dances perfect, rhythmic circles over your clit. 

You seize up and cry out and the arm that Cormac had wrapped around your chest claps over your mouth, pulling your head back and dampening your wailing. “Let it all out for me - quietly,” he growls in your ear.

There’s a drop like when you descend in the air on your broom too quickly - your body reacting after your brain. Your core plummets and everything implodes as you sob against his palm, melting into his touch. 

“Good - that’s it, baby,” he says, more softly this time as your orgasm, blinding hot, makes your cunt convulse and clamp around him.

You cum so hard that you think your legs give way - you can’t tell because his strong body pushing yours against the wall keeps you upright. Tingles spasm from your core right down the backs of your thighs. 

Cormac groans too. He moves his hand from your mouth so he can push his hips against your ass and shove his twitching cock as far as it can go inside you. When you whisper his name shakily and tell him you love him, he’s done for. Warmth floods your insides as he cums, filling you up as he grunts into the column of your throat against your racing pulse. 

Even as you’re pressed up against the wall with his cum leaking out of you, you feel like he belongs here with you. Not in the lighthouse - or against the lighthouse - necessarily. Just here. Inside you. With nothing but the sounds of your heaving breathing and waves crashing against the cliffs in the distance to interrupt you. 

Eventually, his mouth breaks into a smile against your skin and his laugh tickles your neck. 

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“We’ve got a perfectly good bed upstairs and we’re still sneaking around like we used to do under the Quidditch stands at school.”

He pulls out of you carefully and offers you his t-shirt to clean up the mess. You decide it’d be less conspicuous to wash your jeans and underwear in the laundry tomorrow morning than for McLaggen to return back inside suddenly missing a t-shirt.

“We never did that under the Quidditch stands,” you say, turning around and leaning your back against the wall so you can button up your jeans. “We’d have been expelled if we were caught.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure Madam Hooch would have been totally fine if she caught us just doing hand stuff,” he grins.

“Well, we were stupid back then,” you laugh.

“It was fun though. I kind of miss those Quidditch stands.”

“Even when we’re old and married and I’m winning the Quidditch World Cup. I’ll want to meet you under the stands afterwards to celebrate.”

“Yeah, right. If I wait for Scotland to win the Quidditch World Cup for our next fumble under the stands, I’ll die without ever doing it again.”

“You really think I won’t go out of my way to win the Quidditch World Cup just to prove you wrong?”

“Anyone else? No. But you? I’m counting on it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you quietly come back inside the back door to the empty kitchen, you insist on making a cup of tea for yourself and a cup of coffee for McLaggen while he goes upstairs - you insisted that he needs to let you do something for him for once. That beautiful post-sex warmth nestles into your chest and makes between your legs ache pleasantly. Nothing can go wrong when you feel like this. You boil the kettle and set to finding yours and McLaggen’s favourite mugs in the cupboard when a yell from upstairs makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Cho?!” It’s McLaggen’s voice. The urgency in his voice makes the hair stand up on the back of your arms.

You run to the bottom of the spiral staircase and skid to a halt, looking up at all the seven floors winding above you. You crane your neck upwards to see McLaggen on the topmost floor looking over the bannister - a small, gold something glints in his hand. A galleon?

“Cormac? Did you see?” Katie’s head appears diagonally across from McLaggen on the floor below. She looks down at you standing in the middle of the kitchen and then up to McLaggen at the top of the lighthouse.

“Whazgoin’on?” yawns Davies, coming out of his bedroom opposite Katie’s. “Are the others back from Puddlemere?”

“Not yet. But they’re about to be.” Leanne pads out onto the landing directly above you in her pyjamas, closely examining a galleon in the palm of her hand. “Merlin’s pants…” 

“Mine just came through too!” Marietta too appears outside her bedroom door, followed by a bleary-eyed Carmichael. She looks up at Katie, Davies and McLaggen.

“Guys, this is it,” says Cho leaning over the bannister across from McLaggen. Krum curiously joins her, looking equally as puzzled as you are.

“Can someone please explain what is going on!?” you bellow from the bottom of the staircase as if calling everyone to attention in Quidditch practice.

“It’s our coins from when we were in the D.A. The old D.A., I mean,” says Marietta. “It’s what we used to find out when the next meetings were.”

“And? What do they say?”

“It’s Neville Longbottom. He says they’re getting ready to fight at Hogwarts and that we’ve to join them,” says Cho.

“Fight?” Your stomach drops. “Fight who? Why?”

“Only one way to find out,” McLaggen replies as you look up at him in disbelief.

He nods at you reassuringly and you take a deep breath. This is what you’ve been preparing for after all, right? It’s not just pretend. You’re simultaneously more and less prepared than when you broke into Azkaban. You’re much better in combat now but god, you need a plan. More details. Something you can control.

You nod. “Alright. Well, we’ll get some rest and meet up first thing tomorrow with Wood and the others so we can come up with -”

“No,” says McLaggen. “Now. They’re fighting now. We need to leave. Right now.”

You look up at him. Absurdly, all you can think now is that you really need to change your jeans.

Chapter 18: Calling

#cormac mclaggen x female reader #cormac mclaggen #cormac mclaggen x reader #ravenclaw #ravenclaw fanfiction #smut #fanfic #harry potter and the half blood prince #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #freddie stroma #deathly hallows #harry potter and the deathly hallows

[training4theapocalypse]

Finders Keepers Ch 10. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 7.8k (oh my)

Warnings: Fluff, SMUT, PIV, Vibrator fun

Summary: McLaggen gets introduced to the muggle world.

A/N: This has been through four drafts with two different storylines until I settled on this. I'm not happy with the self-insert this has become but the smut went too hard so had to just get it posted. Also 'Hen' is a little Scottish term of endearment for a young woman and Grammarly hated it LMAO.

Masterlist

Tag list: @pretendfan, @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark

Chapter 10: Electricity

Dumbledore’s death brought an immediate feeling of mourning into the castle. The loss itself was tragic in its own right - a respected Headmaster who you liked (though admittedly had never even spoken to directly) but the circumstances surrounding his murder and the intrusion of Death Eaters at Hogwarts were abhorrent. Nobody could quite come to grips with what had happened during the night.

Seventh-year graduation was cancelled. The fifth-year O.W.Ls were postponed. Padma Patil and her sister Parvati had been escorted from Hogwarts by their parents before breakfast. By lunch, Marietta’s mother had literally dragged her from the castle, barely giving you and Cho time to bid her a painful goodbye on the front steps, as you both clutched her hands, promising to write to her and meet up soon.

A few days before Dumbledore’s funeral, McLaggen had suggested, quite rightly, that your Quidditch ban would be the least of Professor McGonagall’s worries at the moment, and so the two of you spent the morning hovering in front of the goalposts, taking turns shooting penalties at each other and trying to take your mind off of what should have been a joyous end of term.

“Right,” says McLaggen, catching the Quaffle in the stomach with a grunt. “Your turn.”

As the morning sun sits high behind him, his dark blonde hair catches the bright light and you notice it looks more tousled than usual -  like he’s been running his hands through it the way you’ve seen him do when he’s brewing a particularly complicated potion in class.

You fly toward the goal and do an about-turn as he lines up to take a shot.

“Who’s that watching us? Ministry, do you reckon?” You nod at two figures at the edge of the Quidditch pitch. 

McLaggen whips around to look at the spectators and throws his head back with a groan. “Well, one of them is. They’re my parents.”

There are only two reasons why they’d be here.

McLaggen’s dad was high up in the Department for Magical Law Enforcement - maybe he was here as part of the Ministry’s preparations for the funeral.

Or maybe, like Mairetta’s mum, they were coming to force him to go back home.

Your stomach twists with nerves. You hadn’t expected to be meeting McLaggen’s parents today. You would have worn something nicer, you think as your feet touch the ground. Feeling slightly flustered, you attempt to discreetly spit your gumshield into your gloves. He grins as you do your best to smooth out your wind-swept ponytail. “You look fine - don’t worry.”

That’s easy for him to say. You’re sure they’ve seen him plenty of times in his Keeper’s gear. But it’s hardly the first impression you wanted to make. 

You walk side by side, carrying your brooms over to his parents at the side of the pitch. 

Mr McLaggen, in his tailored robes, is practically the double of his son except for the fact that he’s older, greyer and has a markedly more serious demeanour than Cormac. His lined face is handsome but marred with a stony expression.

The woman standing next to him is easily the most timelessly beautiful witch you’ve ever seen. She’s tall too, blonde and has - there’s no other way to put it - an expensive aura. The way her face glows and how she holds both her hands over her heart when she sees McLaggen means she could only be his mother.

“Dad,” says McLaggen, grasping his father’s extended hand and shaking it.

Ooh, formal.

“This is-”

He’s cut off when his mother pushes past him to wrap her arms around you and squeeze you tightly. 

“We know! We know!” She squeals, hugging you. She steps back with her hands still placed on each of your arms. “Gosh, you’re even prettier than the pictures.”

“The pictures?” You glance sideways at McLaggen who looks profoundly embarrassed by the way his mother coos at you.

“Yes! Those charming muggle photographs of the two of you. Cormac has sent us so many. You know, I might make an album.”

“Mum!” hisses McLaggen and she releases you to hug him next and plant a kiss on his cheek, covering him in red lipstick that she has to wipe off. He grumbles and flushes almost as deeply as the smudged lipstick being rubbed from his cheek.

Mr McLaggen shakes your hand and gives you a stiff nod without returning the smile you give him.

“Cormac, darling. We’ve come to take you home,” says Mrs McLaggen, finally ceasing her fawning over him. 

“I’m of age, I don’t need you to escort me home.”

“Of course, you don’t, sweetheart,” she waves a hand dismissively and turns to you. “Are your parents coming to get you soon?”

“They can’t  - they’re muggles,” you say and you can’t help but notice the way Mr McLaggen avoids your gaze. “I’m getting the train home after the funeral.”

“I’m not leaving you here,” says McLaggen plainly.

His parents stare at you. Mr McLaggen looks formidable but Mrs McLaggen just looks anxious - you can tell the idea of him being here at Hogwarts is making her worried sick.

“Go with them. I’ll go home in a few days. And you’re still gonna visit me soon, right?”

“Gregor…” starts Mrs McLaggen, looking pleadingly at her husband. 

“Eleanor, I warned you - ”

“Come and stay with us,” she addresses you before he can finish and your eyes widen in surprise. Mr McLaggen sighs resignedly and you have the distinct feeling that despite his appearance, it’s Mrs McLaggen who runs the show. “I mean for goodness sake, there were Death Eaters at Hogwarts. It’s not safe.”

“I’d love to, I really would. But I need to see my parents.” You look at McLaggen. 

“Mum, we need to talk about it. Look, we’re going to go and get changed out of our Quidditch stuff. I’ll meet you in the Entrance Hall in a bit, yeah?”

“Alright, darling.” She touches his cheek fondly much to his indignation. “Your father and I will go for a walk and reminisce.” For a split second, you think you catch Cormac’s dad giving her a hint of a smirk that makes him so resemble his son, before following her off the pitch.

“Wow…” You say, watching them walk off towards the castle grounds.

“I know, she’s a bit much.” He gives you an edgy look as he bends down to pick up both of your brooms.

“I was talking about your dad. He’s a total DILF. I see where you get it from.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“And your mum! She adores you, it’s so sweet!”

“Alright, alright. That’s enough,” laughs McLaggen, shaking his head as the two of you walk back up the gravel path towards the castle. “What do you think though?”

“Listen, you should go with them. Your mum is obviously worried about you. Cho is staying here so I’ll be fine.”

“What are you and Cho going to do if the Death Eaters come again?”

“What are you going to do if they come again?”

“Well, that’s my point. If you’re here and I’m not then I can’t protect you.”

“We slept through the whole thing last time.” It was true - by the time you emerged from your common with the rest of Ravenclaw Tower, Dumbledore was already dead and Snape had fled from the scene. “Besides, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Do a Shield Charm,” he says, stopping dead in his tracks as you reach the courtyard.

You bite your lip. “What, right now?”

“Yes, right now. Prove it.”

“That’s a lot of pressure, give me a sec - ”

He spins you to face him. “That’s the point. You don’t have a second to think. You need to react quickly - and not out of anger either. We already know you can do that at least.”

You feel slightly awkward as you look down at the singed tail of his broom.

“I don’t need a Shield Charm. I’m sure I could flirt my way out of any sticky situation,” you say, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, hoping to change the subject.

He holds your shoulders firmly, dropping his broom to the stone floor with a clatter. “Be serious for two minutes.” His stern expression makes him look so strikingly like his dad. You’ve never been intimidated by McLaggen the way that other people are but you can definitely why they would be now. 

Although you still don’t feel intimidated. 

Instead, as soon as you try to take him seriously you feel yourself faltering. Against your will, you feel a little lump in your throat. “Cormac, I don’t want to think about it. I just want to finish school and go home and have everything be… be normal.” 

“I know. But it’s not… it’s not normal any more.” He pulls you into a long hug and you press your face into his soft jumper, inhaling the comforting amber scent of his aftershave. “Come back with me. Please?” He murmurs with his chin resting on your head.

“I can’t. I need to see my mum and dad.” 

“Then promise me you’ll at least practise Shield Charms while I’m gone.”

You allow yourself a small smile. “And you’re still coming back to Scotland to see me, right?”

“Only if you promise to visit me too. If you can put up with that,” he says, before turning quickly to make sure his mother hasn’t crept up behind him.

“I can put up with that as long as you’ll be okay with my dad forcing football down your throat.”

McLaggen puts his arm around your shoulder as you walk in the direction of Gryffindor Tower and confirm your summer plans. You’ll both placate your respective parents, then McLaggen will visit you for two weeks, you’ll go to the Holyhead Harpies tryouts and then visit his family at his house. 

“And then what?” asks McLaggen, stopping outside the portrait of the Fat Lady. You don’t usually walk him this far but right now you want to prolong his departure as much as you can.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re not gonna stay with our parents just visiting each other forever, are we?”

Oh.

“Things have been so mad with exams, I’ve never had the chance to think about it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… what, have you thought about us… like living together?”

“I think about it all the time.”

You feel yourself melting into a puddle. 

“So you’d move to Wales with me if I make the Holyhead Harpies team?”

“If you want me to? We have plenty of time to decide - I’m not starting work at the Ministry with my dad until the end of the summer”

You chew your lip when he mentions his dad.

“You’re definitely still going to come, right?” you blurt, finally releasing the worry in the pit of your stomach since his parents arrived. “Even if something… even if something bad happens?”

“There’s nothing that could happen that would stop me from seeing you.”

“Even if your dad tells you he doesn’t want you to?”

“What makes you think he wouldn’t want me to?” 

You raise your eyebrows - you know why McLaggen’s dad wouldn’t look at you. 

“It’s not like that. Anyway I don’t care if he doesn’t want me to, whats he gonna do? Stop me?”

You take a deep breath. “Well, if something does happen, just know that I love you.”

“I love you too. And I will see you next week.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the funeral, you and Cho got the Hogwarts Express back to London. It was an emotional last train journey - the two of you ended up in tears more than once. It should have been a final rite of passage. 

Not just a journey for two. 

You wistfully imagine another ending, in a different lifetime - where your friends all shared a compartment as the Scottish countryside became less dense, making your way across the border and down to London. You’d laugh, chat excitedly about your Holyhead Harpies tryouts, buy some snacks from the trolley witch and play exploding snap. 

Instead, you and Cho held hands across the compartment and mourned the end of an era. When it was finally time to part ways with Cho at the station, out loud you promised you’d see each other soon.

But inside you wondered if you’d ever see her again. 

You apparate home from King’s Cross and when you step into the muggle world it’s like travelling to another dimension. The grief, the loss, and the mourning of your childhood are easy to bury when your dad meets you with open arms and asks if you had had a fun year at school. 

You lie. 

You don’t break the news about the state of the wizarding world. You shove down all your fears about what Voldemort’s return and Dumbledore’s death mean for muggles.

But you do, at the very least, pluck up the courage to tell him that not only do you have a boyfriend who you’ve invited to visit but that he’s totally clueless about everything to do with the world you came from.

“What do you mean he doesn’t know football?” Grumbles your dad, dragging your trunk up the stairs to your parents’ little two-bedroom flat while you carry your owl in her cage and your broom. As usual, he refuses to let you help him by using magic.

“They don’t watch football in the wizarding world, Dad.”

“What did you say his name was again? McLaggen? Where in Scotland is he from?”

“Er, Surrey.”

“What?!” He stops on the landing of the close to hold onto the railing and catch his breath.

“He’s English.”

“With a name like McLaggen?”

You nod. You were braced for this reaction.

“Och, for fuck sake. He’s English and he doesn’t even watch the Premier League?” You shake your head and he continues heaving the trunk. “I mean I could manage if he was at least an Arsenal fan but, Christ…”

“He’s into sports. I mean, we both play Quidditch,” you say, putting your key in the door and letting him inside. 

“Is he any good?”

“Yeah, pretty good. He’s a Keeper too.”

“Not as good as you, though?”

“Never.”

“That’s my lass. You inherited your talent from the best.”

You laugh. Your dad coaches a lower-division football team and was a Goalkeeper himself in his youth. His insistence that you played football growing up is probably why you excelled at Quidditch so quickly. 

Your mum greets you in the hallway with a hug.

“And has she told you about the English boyfriend who’s coming to visit?” Your dad calls to her and you sigh.

You count down the days until McLaggen is finally due to apparate on the spare bit of ground behind your flat. Thinking that there would be a lot in the muggle world for him to take in, you timed his arrival for when your parents weren’t home so you could explain everything.

You sit on a crumbling red brick wall at the edge of the patchy grassy field behind your building, looking at your Casio watch - it works again now that you’re outside the magical boundaries of Hogwarts. Right on cue at noon, you hear a shot, like a car backfiring and McLaggen appears - broom in hand and a backpack over his shoulders.

“Made it without splinching yourself then?” 

“I dunno, are both my eyebrows still there?” He touches them with a thumb and forefinger. It’s been hardly any time at all since you saw him last but you’ve missed that stupid face.

You leap off the wall to hug him and he picks you up with ease, scooping you up with his free arm and kissing your cheek when you wrap your legs around his waist. 

“Did you get taller?” You ask, stumbling when he finally puts you down.

“In a week? Unlikely.”

You offer to carry his broom but instead, McLaggen takes your hand and you walk around the side of the building to the front door. He does a double take when you use your electronic key fob to release the main door and it buzzes to let you in.

“That’s… electricity right?”

“Well remembered. Keep that in mind if there’s anything you don’t understand. It’s probably just electricity.”

“Got it.”

“My mum and dad are both at work so they won’t be back til tonight.” His broad shoulders relax slightly as he follows you up the four flights of stairs and you unlock the door to the flat with a set of keys. “I thought it would give me time to show you how some of this muggle stuff works.” You shut the door behind you and lead him down the hall.

“This is me,” you say opening your bedroom door. 

He looks stunned when he steps through the threshold to your bedroom.

“I know. It’s tiny but I’m hardly ever here, I suppose.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… really pink.”

You laugh, looking at your fuchsia walls adorned with posters of bands, the Holyhead Harpies and the football team you follow. It’s probably pretty overwhelming if you’re not used to it.

“Surprised? You ask, sitting down on your double bed that’s pushed up against the wall of your little bedroom. “Just dump your stuff anywhere by the way.”

“I was picturing blue. For obvious reasons.” He shrugs his bag off of his shoulder, not really noticing where it falls as he stands at your wall, looking closely at your peeling No Doubt poster. “It’s kind of creepy how their eyes follow you around even though they don’t move.”

“Hey, don’t call Gwen Stefani creepy in this house.”

“Does she play football?”

“Not that I know of. She’s in a muggle band. American. Most of these guys are,” you say as he looks around your room. You lean back on your elbows. “I mean, you know NSYNC, right?”

He looks at your other posters and shakes his head.

“Come off it - even Marietta knows NSYNC.”

“I’ve never heard any muggle music.”

“You’re missing out. Better than The Weird Sisters. Definitely better than Celestina Warbeck.”

“Don’t say that in front of my mum… hey, at least there’s one thing I recognise.” He wanders over to your open bedroom window where your little grey barn owl perches on the window ledge. He extends his hand to greet her. She looks at it disdainfully, turns and spreads her wings to fly off into the distance. You think she’s annoyed that you haven’t been writing to him.

“I hope that’s not a bad omen for meeting your family.”

It gives you a fuzzy feeling in your chest, seeing him in your room like this. This time last summer you’d never have thought Cormac McLaggen would be in your bedroom. Or that you’d actually want him to be here. You watch him as McLaggen looks at the photos stuck to your dressing table mirror interestedly. Polaroids of you and him, some group photos of you, Cho and Marietta, and a few of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. 

“I can bring those with me to yours, if you want? You know, for your mum’s album…”

“Oh, haha,” he says sarcastically, joining you on the bed. “There’s a picture missing though...” He scans the room before reaching over to your bedside table to open the drawer. You lurch forward and try to slam it shut.

“Don’t look in my drawers!”

“Is that picture of me in there?” 

That stupid trademark arrogant smile makes you blush furiously.

“No!” You lie, crawling over his lap to get between him and the table.

“It is!” He says with a mock gasp. “Come on, let me see!” You struggle but he dodges your grasp and opens the drawer. “I knew it!”

“You’re insufferable,” you grumble as he picks out the Polaroid before you can slam it shut.

“My shoulders look great,” he smirks, admiring himself in the photo. It’s one you took at the Seventh Year party, of him at the edge of the pool, drinking a beer. 

His shoulders do look great. 

So does the rest of him. 

It’s why you keep it in your bedside drawer.

“You should have it if you like it so much.”

“Nah, I like that you like it.” He looks round to see you pursing your lips. “Alright! I’ll put it back-”

“No, wait!”

He opens the drawer again and pauses.

Shit.

“What is this?”

He’s spotted what you didn’t want him to see in the first place. A small, silicone bullet vibrator. You’re hoping he’ll have no idea what it’s for.

He holds the picture in one hand and the vibrator in the other, looking between them.

“Wait… does this go in…?” He makes a juvenile stabbing motion.

“It’s none of your business where it goes.” Your cheeks feel red hot. “Put it back.”

“You’re blushing - it does!” His face lights up with glee. 

“It does not.”

“It’s so small. No wonder you were so impressed.” 

“I told you it doesn’t go inside of me. It - ugh.” You sigh. “I hold it against me.”

“You just hold it? Does that - I mean, how does that feel good?”

You extend your palm and he drops it in your hand. It starts vibrating when you press the button at the bottom. 

His eyes go wide. “And how- ?” You raise an eyebrow. “Right, sorry, electricity.”

You turn it off and reach over him to put it back but he grabs your wrist.

“Cormac -”

“Show me.”

“What?” You look at him and feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. He’s deadly serious.

“Come on, you said I never did it right. Show me how you touch yourself”

“You know I never meant that. I was just pissed off.”

“Oh, I know you didn’t.” The confident look on his face sends a tingle down your spine - he’s always so sure of himself. “But you’re gonna pay for saying that.” Fuck. It makes you wet thinking about how he’s going to make you pay for it. How does he know exactly how to press your buttons? To make you fold like this?

McLaggen puts his picture down and leans in to kiss you. His tongue parts your lips and you welcome it, letting him roll his tongue across yours. You’ve been dying to kiss him like this again since the night in the Prefect’s Bathroom. And now, you finally have him alone.

“I missed you,” you breathe when he moves his lips to kiss your neck. 

You really have. The last time you had sex was over four months ago on Valentine’s Day. And sure, most of your Quidditch practises with him between December and March had ended up under the canvas stands getting hot and heavy - the pair of you fumbling under each other’s robes - but you haven’t even seen each other naked since February. 

“When are your parents back?”

You pull back and look at the watch on your wrist. “Like four hours.”

“Wait what is that?” He asks, looking down at the digital display.

“A watch -” You say, between kisses. “Electricity. I’ll explain later. Just kiss me. Please.”

The fuzzy feeling in your chest spreads down to your abdomen and you pull yourself onto his lap, drawing your leg over his to straddle him. 

Cormac lies back on the bed to rest on your pillows and your mouth follows his. You feel his hands move from your waist to squeeze your backside. His erection presses against you through his jeans as you suck on his bottom lip. When you trail kisses across his jaw and down his neck, you can feel the way his muscles tense as he swallows.

He tugs the hem of your t-shirt up and over your head and you urgently pull his off too. 

Fuck, he looks even better than your picture of him.

Your hands work quickly to undress him and he does the same, his strong hands yanking your jeans and underwear down as you kiss him and run your hands over his bare chest. You climb on top of him again, positioning your hips over his large, flushed cock so that the underside of him is engulfed between your wet lips. 

“Where’s that… thing?” He finds your discarded vibrator on the bed and hands it to you. “C’mon let me see how you use it.”

“What, sitting you you like this?”

“Yeah.” He raises his eyebrow, daring you to do it.

You take it and bite your lip. For some reason, you feel thoroughly embarrassed about touching yourself for him.

“Can’t we just…?” You put his large hands on your hips and grind back, along the thick length of him and feel him twitching between your folds.

“I thought you were gonna show me how all this muggle stuff worked?” Cormac’s eyes drift down your body as he guides your hand clutching the vibrator down to your clit. “I want to start by seeing how you touch yourself when you’re thinking about me.”

“You’re so sure I’m thinking about you?” You tease, switching it on. Fuck. You hold it against yourself and immediately feel your nerve endings light up under the stimulation. 

“I know you do. Maybe not as much as I think about you.”

“You do?” You squirm against the steady vibration on your clit. 

“Every fucking night.” He reaches up to cup your face. His thumb draws across your parted lips and you open your mouth to suck on it. You moan, feeling everything inch of your skin tingling.

His hand drags down your neck to your chest, groping your breast before settling on your hip again. “I - Maybe I think about you too, then,” you whisper, meeting his eyes when his hands move your body, encouraging you to keep moving back and forth. Those green eyes bore into yours - you go weak from the prolonged eye contact. 

“Don’t give me that look, fuck, I can’t take it,” he pleads.

“What look?”

“The same one you gave me when you drank that love potion. Fuck, when you were begging me to take you… you know what it does to me when you beg for me.”

The vibration on your clit and the way his cock pulses underneath you make your vision hazy.

“I’m begging you now, Cormac… please. I want you inside me.”

You tilt forward so that the tip of his cock presses against your slick entrance. Sinking back, you moan as you feel his thick length stretching you, slowly filling you up. Cormac’s tight grip forces your hips to bear down on him and you whine when he sheathes himself fully, hitting deep in your centre.

“You look so fucking pretty like this, baby.”

He watches as you lean back to brace yourself on his thigh with your free hand. You pull your hips up and sink slowly back down on him, feeling him pushing into you. The strong vibrations on your clit and how his cock presses into your G-spot make you start to see stars behind your eyelids. Using your vibrator on its own, thinking about him every night this past week felt good but fuck, you never imagined how it would feel with him here under you, inside you at the same time.

“I know it’s not right but I wanted to fuck you in that shower - so badly,” he says, running his hands up your body to squeeze your tits.

You know it wasn’t right either, but Christ, you wanted him to. Every day you spent with him at school after the seventh-year party when you could kiss him, touch him, but never fuck him made you ache. You found yourself in your dormitory late at night with the curtains of your four-poster drawn, face buried in your pillow and fingers working in your underwear, quietly making yourself cum so the other girls couldn’t hear.

“I would have let you. Shit - I’ll let you fuck me anywhere. In the shower, on the pitch… anywhere you want -” You curse when he pinches your nipples.

“Don’t say that. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

You can imagine him too, alone at night in Gryffindor Tower fucking his own hand thinking about you whimpering against his chest, rubbing your clit and pleading with him to fuck you while every fibre of his being resisted temptation.

You can hear how wet you are over the buzzing from your vibrator - the slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy makes you pick up your pace, your walls squeezing around him and the intense vibrations pulsing on your clit as you chase your high. 

“Yeah, that’s it. Keep fucking yourself on my dick.”

That’s exactly what it feels like like you’re getting yourself off for him. You almost forget about his pleasure while you use his thick cock as a means to your end as he watches you riding up and down on him. 

McLaggen stares up at you, mesmerised by the way your face contorts in pleasure - your parted lips and heavy lids painting a picture of uninhibited gratification. He grabs your hips again - hard - just to watch your expression change, to see if he can make your facial muscles scrunch up and cause sweet noises to escape you.

He can.

His thumbs dig careless bruises into your hipbones driving himself deeper into you as you set a frantic rhythm, bouncing on his cock.

“Ah - fuck, Cormac. I’m gonna cum,” you whimper and his thigh tenses under your hand as you bear down on him, feeling white-hot pleasure deep in your core.

“That’s right, make yourself cum for me,” he says through gritted teeth, his eyes locked on your body - staring at the way your tits bounce and your hand presses the little buzzing object against your clutch of nerves.

The heat spills over and everything clamps down on him tight as ecstasy erupts burning hot through your body. The white noise of blood rushing in your ears overwhelms you as you cum all over his cock, riding out the wave of pleasure engulfing you.

You toss the vibrator aside and slump over him, pressing your face into the juncture of his shoulder. Your chest finds his and you cling to his broad shoulders as he fucks up into you, manically jerking his hips with a pummelling force that makes you let out adoring whimpers for him, your lips pressed onto his skin.

He wraps his arms around your back, keeping his tight grip on you for leverage. Every thrust make the broken sounds from your lips pitch higher and higher. You’re not sure where your last orgasm stopped and this one is beginning. 

“Fuck, you make such pretty noises when you cum.”

His name leaves your lips over and over and over, in sync with the slamming of his hips into yours. God, he feels good from this angle. Cormac groans through gritted teeth when you say his name, and he responds by jackhammering his cock into you. You stifle your cry by biting down on his neck, not caring whether you’ll leave a bruise or not. Your mind goes blank with pleasure - no thoughts - just your body locking down so tight around him as everything implodes inside you again.

You feel his ragged grunt in your ear as he drives up into your cunt, burying himself so deep that his thighs meet the back of yours as he cums inside you. His grunting turns into low breathy moans that make him sound so wonderfully, so beautifully pathetic as his release coats your insides.

Cormac’s hips come to a halt and he brings his muscular arms around your shoulder blades. His biceps hold you close to his chest in a tight embrace as his cum leaks out of you onto your bedsheets. Post-orgasmic bliss flows between you - you feel the rise and fall of his chest in time with yours. Every inhale and exhale seems to pass between you like the tide rolling over sand. 

Lying here on top of him, you realise your legs are aching from working them so hard. You softly kiss his bitten neck and he pulls out of you so you can climb off of him, rolling onto your back to lie next to him on your pillows and staring at the ceiling, letting your heart rate decrease again.

He turns on his side and props himself up on his elbow to look down at you.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” says Cormac tracing his fingertips across your chest and down the curve of your waist. It tickles pleasantly.

“Naked?” You laugh.

“That too,” he grins. “Just… comfortable. Not sneaking around under the stands or freezing cold on a blanket.”

“For the record, I enjoyed both of those things.” You reach up to cup his handsome face and you feel the scratchy texture of his chin when he kisses your palm. “But you’re right. This is nice. Maybe living with you won’t be that bad.”

“You should bring this,” he says, picking up your vibrator and looking at it interestedly. “Is the other muggle stuff you were going to show me as good as this?”

“That depends… have you ever had vodka?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and McLaggen sit on your bed listening to music. Your head rests on his lap as you read Quidditch Through The Ages while he flicks through your copy of Rolling Stone, frequently asking questions. 

He lifts his head, listening to Oasis playing on your CD player.

“Is all muggle music just about other people?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like are they all just love songs?”

You lower your book to look up at him from his lap. “I’ve never really thought about it. I guess all the good ones are.”

“Hmm.” He flips a page of your magazine nonchalantly. “It’s kind of cheesy.”

“Oh sorry, it’s not extremely cool like wizard music. All your stuff is about goblins and ghouls.”

“It is not.”

“Name a Weird Sisters track that doesn’t have a reference to magical creatures.”

He pauses, stumped.

You hear the front door unlock. “That’ll be my dad home,” you say, without looking up. Your head hits the mattress with a thud as McLaggen springs to his feet and runs a hand through his hair nervously. “It’s fine. He’s nice,” you say, putting your book down.

“Has he ever met one of your boyfriends or girlfriends before?”

“Er, no.”

“It’s different. Trust me.”

There’s a knock at your bedroom door and a pause.

“Come in,” you call.

“Alright, hen?” asks your dad and you nod. He looks at Cormac who’s standing in the middle of the room uncertainly. “You must be McLaggen.”

McLaggen extends his hand. “It’s good to meet you, Mr -”

“Nope, none of that,” says your dad, grasping his hand and releasing it quickly. He insists McLaggen calls him by his first name. “Look, your mum is working late. Do you fancy a kickabout before dinner? Both of you.” He adds to McLaggen.

“Dad -”

“Yeah, I’m up for that,” says McLaggen, slightly too enthusiastically and you roll your eyes. 

God, he’s such a suck-up.

“Right, get your stuff. Let’s go.”

You groan when your dad shuts the door. “You idiot - you’ve got no idea what you’ve just agreed to.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

The three of you walk to the deserted park and you pull on your goalkeeper gloves as you approach the rusty old goals.

“Dad, McLaggen’s never even kicked a ball before.”

“Yeah, I have. I’m just usually mid-air, that’s all.”

“It’s a piece of piss,” says your dad, setting himself up to take a penalty as you find your line on the goal. “Plant your left foot, kick with your right, right through your laces.”

Your dad kicks the ball - you misjudge it and he scores as the ball speeds right past your feet into the net.

“How many times have I told you to practice those bottom corners?”

“There’s no ‘bottom corners’ in Quidditch. And that’s what I should be practising right now.”

“That’s not strictly true,” McLaggen pipes up. “The ball can always go in low if the Chaser’s coming from above.”

“Can you stop contradicting me for one second?” You ask, passing the ball back to your dad.

“Big mistake, lad. You can’t argue with her - she’s always right,” laughs your dad and McLaggen smirks.

You narrow your eyes, shooting daggers at them.

“Here.” Your dad passes the ball to McLaggen. “Give it a go.”

He attempts a penalty and you watch the ball soar over the goal and land miles away. You do a quick check for any muggles and pull out your wand.

“Accio ball.” 

It zooms back over to you and you knock it back to McLaggen. He kicks it again and you catch it mid-air.

“Better!”

Your dad looks unimpressed but he and McLaggen continue taking turns trying to score. Your dad gets a few more past you but McLaggen gets zero, occasionally sending the ball so far it needs to be summoned back again.

“Right, I’m burst. One of you go in,” you say, stripping off your gloves.

“Yeah, go on then,” says McLaggen, jogging over and taking them from you. “Can see if it’s as easy as you make it look.” He grins.

“Just wait.”

Your dad lines up to take a penalty but you nudge him out of the way to take the first shot. “Don’t be too hard on him,” you say under your breath and he tuts.

You punt an easy shot McLaggen’s way and he catches it. “I can send it back with my hands if I’m the keeper, right?” He asks.

Your dad nods and McLaggen rolls it with precision so it stops right at his feet. Your dad blinks down at it a few times, clearly surprised by the accuracy.

“Don’t go easy on me this time,” he calls to your dad who pulls his shoulders back, ready for the challenge. 

He kicks it with incredible force into the top corner and McLaggen saves it, catching it in his hands before rolling it back again.

“This is just typical,” you scoff and look at your dad who looks stunned. “He’s good at everything.”

With every shot, your dad seems to perk up. He’s practically beaming when McLaggen dives and manages to knock a shot away with his fingertips.

“This is great!” McLaggen says, getting to his feet with a smile. “Solid ground. Nowhere to fall.”

Your dad has a funny look on his face. 

“You alright?” You ask.

“Yeah…” He clears his throat. “Right, one more or your mum will batter us.”

He shoots, curving the ball towards the goal. Easily his best strike all evening and McLaggen saves it again with ease. He smiles as he runs back over holding the ball.

“Excellent. We should do this again tomorrow,” says McLaggen.

You look at your dad and you think you know what the funny look is. You think he’s in love.

“That was some effort, lad. Are you going pro with Quidditch too?” Your dad asks as you start walking back to the flat, suddenly interested in McLaggen now he knows he can save a ball.

“Ah, no. I’m not as good as your daughter.” He says, actually sounding modest for a change. “I’ve got a job lined up at our Ministry with my dad - Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

“What, like in an office?”

McLaggen nods.

“What a waste.”

“Dad, don’t be rude -“

“Och, you know I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that a big strapping lad like yourself was made to be a goalie. If this one wasn’t so bloody intent on moving down south -“ He gives you a stern look. “I’d be trying to get you on my team. Christ, you’re better than the dozy bastard I’ve got in goals and he’s been playing all his life.”

“That’s very kind of you to -“

“Look, there’s nothing kind about it. You’re my daughter's boyfriend and I’ve got no interest in flattering you. You’ve got talent, son.”

“Thanks.”

“I still don’t understand why you can’t just live here and just -  pop! Go to Wales and come back every day.”

“Dad, I’ve told you. You can’t apparate that distance twice a day. It’s dangerous.”

“What about once a week? No chance you could pop up from Surrey every weekend to play football up here?” He asks McLaggen.

“Don’t humour him, McLaggen. Dad, he’s not going to drop everything to be a keeper for your team.”

“Well, you should think about it. You’re only eighteen - plenty of time to go pro. I mean look at her - she learned Quidditch in a couple of years.”

“You’re not seriously trying to get him to become a professional footballer after one kickabout.” 

By the time you get to the flat, you’ve had to stop him from changing the conversation back to convincing you and McLaggen to move to Scotland several times.

“Oh my god,” says your mum when she hears you coming up the stairs and opens the door. “You never told us he was handsome.”

“You didn’t? I’m sure you said that’s my only redeeming quality.” The corners of McLaggens mouth twitch slightly when he sees you roll your eyes. 

This makes your mum laugh - a bit too hard. Your dad doesn’t even seem to notice. You’re surprised he hasn’t started giggling too.

After dinner, most of which was spent with your dad plying McLaggen with beer and telling him all about the inner workings of the Scottish Premiership league table while your mum asked him a million questions and giggled like a schoolgirl, you drag him to your bedroom. 

You shut your door behind you and lean against it with a sigh.

“Sorry about that.” You shake your head. “Somehow that was worse than them not liking you.”

He shrugs. “I keep telling you, I’m extremely loveable.”

“Shut up.” You sit on the bed and toss a cushion at him. “Honestly, I think my dad would like a new a son in law. And my mum. God, I think my mum would quite like a new boyfriend the way she was going on.”

He shrugs. “They’re just being nice. It almost made me forget what things were like back in the wizarding world.”

“How bad is it? I can’t bear to look at The Prophet.”

“It’s getting worse. My dad has been working late and when I do see him, he looks terrible. My mum’s just anxious all the time... I should probably write to them and let her know I’m okay here. Can I use your owl?”

He sits down at your makeup table and writes a quick note to his mum and dad.

“I sort of wish we could just stay here,” he looks up as he folds the parchment.

“What? Like in the muggle world?”

“Yeah, I mean the sex is good, music is decent, football is… actually really good.”

“Sex is good and football is ‘really good’?”

“You know what I mean.”

“You should stay here with my dad. Start a new life as a muggle footballer.” McLaggen gives you a small smile and looks down at the parchment, turning it in his hands. “So what does your dad do at Department for Magical Law Enforcement? Does he like, manage the Aurors or something?”

“No, he writes legislation, lobbies to get it through the Ministry - that kind of thing.”

“And you’re going to be doing that too?” McLaggen nods. “God help us all then. Cormac McLaggen writing the laws that shape the fabric of wizarding society.”

“First thing I’ll be doing is making the use of Incendio punishable by ten years in Azkaban.”

“Hopefully your dad likes me as much as my dad likes you. It would be handy to have someone high up in the Ministry to bust me out when you put me behind bars.”

He laughs which turns into a yawn. “Where am I sleeping, by the way?”

You look at him sceptically. “Er, here?”

“And your parents are alright with that?”

“Yeah?”

“Just to warn you, mine won’t be. They’ll want us in separate rooms.”

“Better make the most of it then,” you smile, pulling your top off and finding your cutest pyjamas in your bedside drawer. You don’t get the chance to put them on before McLaggen’s lips find yours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next two weeks fly by in a blur - between Quidditch practice in a secluded field away from the outskirts of the city, McLaggen insisting on teaching you defensive spells and your dad dragging you both out to the park every night to play football you feel a lot more prepared for both your Holyhead Harpies tryouts and whatever going back to the wizarding world will bring.

On Saturday morning, as you and McLaggen pack your things getting ready to leave, there’s a knock at your bedroom door.

“Are you decent?” Comes your dad’s voice.

You roll your eyes. “Yes, come in.”

“You feeling ready, hen?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you say, bracingly, holding your broom upright.

He looks at you, glowing with pride. “They’ll be lucky to have you.”

You nod, nerves swirling in the pit of your stomach. Today’s the day.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to come back here after?”

“We promised McLaggen’s parents we’d visit them. I’ll keep in touch though. I’ll send you an owl when I find out if they’re signing me.”

“And I don’t suppose you’ve decided you want a career in Scottish football, after all?”

McLaggen grins. He and your dad have been getting on so well - mostly due to the fact McLaggen’s only been getting better and better at football. “I wish. My dad would kill me if I turned down the ministry job.”

“Well, you’re welcome in our house any time, son.”

You sling your bag over your shoulder and kiss your dad on the cheek goodbye.

“We’ll visit when the football season starts. McLaggen was just telling me he wants to come to one of your games.”

Your dad has that funny look again on his face. McLaggen reaches out to shake his hand but instead, your dad pulls him into a hug. “A waste. A bloody waste,” he sobs.

McLaggen looks at you over your dad’s shoulder slightly bemused and pats his back.

“Dad?” You interrupt. He pulls away, wiping his eyes. “Right, tell mum I love her and I’ll see you both soon.”

“Alright, hen. Keep her safe for me. She’s precious cargo,” he adds and McLaggen nods solemnly.

He shuts your bedroom door and you take McLaggen’s hand, ready to apparate to Holy Island.

“I think he’s going to miss you more than he’ll miss me,” you laugh.

You think hard about your destination and with a crack like a whip, the pair of you vanish from your childhood bedroom.

Chapter 11: Blood Traitor

#cormac mclaggen x female reader #cormac mclaggen #cormac mclaggen x reader #ravenclaw #ravenclaw fanfiction #smut #fanfic #harry potter and the half blood prince #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #freddie stroma

[training4theapocalypse]

Finders Keepers Ch 16. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: SMUT, PIV, Sex pollen / Love Potion so copious dub-con. Cormac calls Reader a Slut (during sex - not during an argument).

Summary: You want to celebrate Carmichael's return but you have anxiety. Thankfully McLaggen can always help you let some steam off.

A/N: We're really just killing time with the power of friendship (and smut) until the Battle of Hogwarts here.

Masterlist

Tag list: @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark, @intense-sneezing, @lipstickandloveletters, @ichorai, @marmie-noir, @lolitstiana(let me know if you want removed at any point btw!)

Chapter 16: Relax

The party is in full swing as you sit anxiously on the couch, absently toying with the label from an unopened bottle of Madam Rosmerta’s mead in your hands. From here you can keep an eye on the front door and watch the others milling around in the kitchen.

You’re supposed to be joining in with the others, celebrating Eddie Carmichael’s release from Azkaban but when you look at the discarded Daily Prophet on the coffee table, a knot twists in your stomach.

Three photos dominate the front page under the headline “Mass Breakout from Azkaban: Quidditch Conspiracy?” Two professional headshots of Krum and Davies respectively, looking intimidatingly composed in their Lyon Quidditch robes and a picture of you in your Azkaban ones, looking quite the opposite.

You reread the caption underneath, although at this point it’s committed to your memory - permanently. 

‘Undesirables. Contact the Ministry of Magic immediately if you have any information concerning the whereabouts of the organisation known Dumbledore’s Army or the disappearance of Cormac McLaggen and Marietta Edgecombe. Reward five thousand galleons.’

“You alright, Keeps?” 

You look up when Alicia drops herself onto the sofa next to you. You nod and stop fidgeting with the bottle, trying to appear nonchalant.

“You’re not. I can still tell when something’s on your mind,” she says.

“I’m just keeping an eye out. I’m not sure it’s a good idea for us all to let our guard down.” You look edgily at the door. 

She chuckles. “You haven’t changed a bit. Always so serious - too serious. Relax. Enjoy the party.”

You purse your lips, holding back the rebuttal on the tip of your tongue. Her statement is half true but you can’t help feeling her assessment is an unfair one. You have changed. But to give yourself credit - this is serious. There’s a war going on and you’re all in here, partying as if it’s the end of term and you’ve just finished your exams. Nobody’s behaving like you’re wanted by the Ministry.

“I just think at least one of us should keep their wits about them. Just in case something happens.” Your eyes find the door again.

“What are you gonna do? Fight off the Death Eaters single-handed while we watch?”

“What are you gonna do? Get so wasted you can’t point your wand straight?”

“We’ll be fine.”

You look up at Carmichael and McLaggen, laughing together at the other side of the kitchen. 

Carmichael, even more so than you, bears the gaunt look of someone who’s spent time in Azkaban but his smile lights up his face so brightly that it’s almost easy to forget how recently he escaped. Your brow softens when you see him slap McLaggen on the back in reaction to some joke you can’t hear.

“Well, maybe something about you has changed,” says Alicia, watching you observe the two of them across the room.

“Oh, yeah?”

“I kind of had a feeling you’d settle down with a guy when your experimental phase was over.”

You snap back around to look at her. “It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then?”

You feel adrenaline rising in your chest, your body instinctively reverting to a state of readiness for one of your and Alicia’s notorious screaming matches.

“You know what, Alicia? You broke up with me so I don’t have to justify who I end up with or why.”

“Well, it might have been different if I’d known you’d resort to dating an idiot like McLaggen when there were no other lesbians left at Hogwarts. I could have at least warned you.”

“He’s not an idiot.” You hear scuffling at the other side of the kitchen and look up to see Carmichael and McLaggen play fighting, trying to put each other in a headlock. You close your eyes and let out an exasperated breath. 

Alicia laughs. “Come on, he’s everything you hate. Arrogant. Entitled. I heard he even got into an argument with Harry Potter when he wasn’t picked for the Quidditch team.”

“He was confunded!”

She pulls a face. “He was? He was reminiscing about the whole sorry tale with Wood and Angelina about it yesterday morning and never mentioned that bit. Just seemed to think Potter had just missed a trick, not recruiting the amazing Cormac McLaggen.”

Your stomach drops. He still doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that you knew Hermione Granger confunded him and never said anything.

“I’m not listening to you talking shit about my boyfriend - yes, boyfriend - when you’re staying here at his place,” you say and get to your feet. “You know, you haven’t changed either, Alicia.”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me why.”

“You’re still a dickhead.”

You hear her scoff behind you as you go to the kitchen and interrupt McLaggen and Carmichael’s boisterous laughter.

“Hey,” McLaggen says in a cautiously optimistic sort of way when you come over. “Do you need a bottle opener?”

“No. Do you have a minute?” you ask him and his expression becomes serious.

McLaggen puts down his drink and opens the kitchen door into the garden. When you follow him outside he shuts the door behind you and leans on the edge of a planter filled with lavender and sage.

“Everything alright? I saw you talking to Alicia. Didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Cormac, I need to tell you something.”

He straightens up with the demeanour of someone bracing themselves, pulling his shoulders back. “Cormac? Something must be up if you’re calling me that.” 

You take a deep breath. “Do you remember your Quidditch tryouts? How you missed the last penalty?”

“...Yes? Sort of?” he says uncertainly.

“Well -” You swallow nervously. “- Hermione Granger confunded you. And I found out and didn't tell you.”

“Okay?” His eyebrows knit together worriedly. “Then what?” 

“That’s it.”

“That’s what you came out here to tell me?” He laughs and runs his hands through his hair. “I thought you were about to break up with me or something.”

“What? No!” His palpable relief is confusing you. “You’re not annoyed with me?”

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you close to him. You stand between his legs and rest your forehead against his chest. His arms are like a warm, weighted blanket around your shoulders. “I’m not annoyed with you about school Quidditch tryouts. You’re acting like you confunded me - not Granger.”

“I should have told you or Madam Hooch or, well, anyone,” you tell his chest. “But I didn’t because I thought Ravenclaw’s chances would be better if Weasley was Keeper.”

He snorts a laugh. “Well, you were wrong. I was awful when I played in that one match, remember?”

“You’re really not mad at me?”

“You’re forgetting I already know how ruthless you are when it comes to Quidditch. I just can’t believe you’ve been feeling guilty all this time.”

“I sort of forgot about it until I was speaking to Alicia.”

“What else were you guys talking about? I looked over and, well, it looked deep.”

“Definitely not deep. She was just saying I’m too serious and that you’re arrogant and entitled.”

“Lots of opinions for someone who broke up with you and barely knows me.” McLaggen rolls his eyes.

“Do you think I’m too serious?”

He looks down at you, considering you for a moment. “I think you worry a lot and that it’s probably exhausting to live in your head. And don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot to worry about right now, but sometimes I think you think you need to be responsible for it all. And you don’t.”

You nod. “I don’t feel great about having a party when people like me are in hiding.”

“We’re still hiding. Or have you also forgotten you’re a fugitive responsible for my kidnapping?” He raises an eyebrow.

“And you’ll never escape,” you say, allowing yourself a small smile.

“I hope not.” He smirks. “What about me? Think she’s right”

“Entitled? No. Arrogant? Yes. But in fairness, you don’t have a lot to be modest about.”

“Lucky you,” he says, with that cocky look you love so much, waiting for your usual sharp retort. But you just bring your hand up to touch his handsome face.

“I am.”

“You’re supposed to argue and say I’m the lucky one. Now I do sound like an entitled dick.”

“I can’t believe you thought I might be coming out here to break up with you.” You’re not sure where you’d be without McLaggen right now. Probably holed up somewhere alone, or worse, still in Azkaban. 

“To be honest, that still sounds more plausible than you apologising for keeping a secret about Quidditch tryouts last year when there’s a war going on.”

“Yeah…” You frown when you hear raucous laughter coming from inside the lighthouse.

He kisses the top of your head. “How about you and I sit this one out? The Fidelious Charm is impenetrable. Everyone who knows about headquarters is in there right now. But if it makes you feel better, we can.”

And his words of comfort make you believe it in a way that Alicia simply dismissing your concerns and telling you to relax didn’t. Really believe it. That you’re safe. 

And that you’re not overreacting. That he gets it. 

Gets you.

You shake your head. “You’re right. I need to stop worrying. At least for tonight. Let’s go back inside and enjoy ourselves. Angelina, Wood and Alicia are going home tomorrow - when are we all going to get to do this again?”

He tilts his head. “If you’re sure?”

“I’m always sure when I’m with you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weave your way through the party, chatting and occasionally accepting drinks thrust into your hands as music plays from McLaggen’s Uncle’s radio. You pass Davies as he leaves Krum on the sofa to get more drinks. You replace his empty seat next to Krum.

“I like this,” Krum says, looking appraisingly around the room.

“It’s all Carmichael’s doing. If there’s one thing he’s mad for, it’s a party. He was probably planning the whole thing in Azkaban.”

“Not the party. It is like having friends. Not just fans.”

You look at him a little sadly. He’s not expecting sympathy but the matter-of-fact way he said it makes your heart sink. You know what it feels like to not have many friends. It was only this year, after all, that you made your own.

“You can’t take part in a prison breakout without becoming friends at the end of it,” you smile.

He takes a sip of beer thoughtfully, looking at McLaggen. “At first, I am not so sure when he says you are his girlfriend. You are very bossy. But now I am thinking you are a good match. He is a good leader too. He fought vell in Azkaban.”

His unsolicited, backhanded compliment out of nowhere makes you laugh.

“Thank you. I think?”

Krum nods at Cho talking to Davies. She laughs hard at something he says and her long, shiny hair swishes in the dim light of the kitchen. “I also think your friend is very pretty. But I knew Diggory. They were together at the Yule Ball.”

“They were. But she can’t be expected to be alone forever. She’s had boyfriends since Cedric if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“This is good to know.” He stands up. “I’ll see you later,” he adds bluntly, standing up and making a beeline for Cho as if worried that any time she spends talking to Davies instead of him is an opportunity wasted.

Before you have time to be offended by Krum’s abrupt departure, Carmichael launches himself next to you, followed closely by McLaggen who slaps Carmichael’s head and squeezes between you. 

“Keep your bloody hair on. You could have just asked me to shift over,” says Carmichael, slapping him back. “You alright, mucker?”

You nod. “You’ve done it again, Carmichael. Some party.”

“It’s all I’ve been thinking about in Azkaban for the past month,” he says and you feel warm satisfaction - somehow knew that’s exactly what he’d have been doing without you there. “Needed something to think about when you done a bunk.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie -“ you start but absurdly he just laughs.

“Only winding you up.”

“I didn’t want to leave you there alone. I swear.” Even though Carmichael is just teasing, you still feel like you need to explain. 

“It’s true - it’s the first thing she said when she saw me,” confirms McLaggen with a slightly awkward look. “I wanted to get you out at the same time, it’s just that -“

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, alright? Maz got me up to speed, didn’t she? You broke into Azkaban for me. Can’t ask for much more than that.”

You nod. It still barely feels real. You did it. You got him out. And he’s doing… surprisingly well. “I can’t believe you’re so upbeat. I was a mess.”

“The Patronus every night kept me going. And I kept our old routine up.”

“What routine?” asks McLaggen, looking confused.

“You never told him about our very exciting schedule?” asks Carmichael.

“I’ve not told anyone anything about Azkaban, to be honest. Except the layout so we could draw up a plan.”

“Well, we’d recite facts all day and do burpees all night to keep sane. I think I’ve nearly remembered every plant from ‘One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi’,” reminisces Carmichael.

“That was basically all we did until the Patronus came. We couldn’t chat or anything or else the Dementors would sense us having fun. But when your Patronus showed up we could actually talk about things that mattered,” you add and squeeze McLaggen’s hand.

“You really did us a solid, mate.”

McLaggen nods at Carmichael and returns the squeeze of your hand gently.

As the night goes on, you, McLaggen and Carmichael are soon joined by Marietta as you catch up sitting on the fat leather couches. Leanne and Rodger Davies appear too and McLaggen pulls you onto his knee so Leanne can sit down, while Davies plants himself on a cushion on the floor. You look at the old grandfather clock - Krum and Cho have been conspicuously missing for almost an hour.

“You think they’re… they’re alright though?” you ask, looking at the kitchen window. You’re worried they’ve accidentally stepped outside the perimeter of the Fidelius Charm. 

“They’re fine,” insists McLaggen. “Trust me, you don’t want to stumble across something you can’t unsee.”

Just then, Cho and Krum burst through the back door in a more giggly fashion than you’d have expected from the internationally famous player.

“Oi, oi,” grins Carmichael. “Where you been?” They glance at each other and there’s an obvious silence as they hesitate. The only the sound is of The Weird Sisters coming through the radio.

“I remember this,” says Krum, changing the subject. “This vos the music at the Yule Ball.”

“Isn’t it funny that we were all at the Yule Ball?” asks Leanne. “Who would have thought three years later, we’d all be here together?”

Not you, anyway. For most of your time at Hogwarts, your only close friend was Cho and briefly, Alicia. Now you’re quite literally surrounded by friends.

A thought strikes you. “Who did you go to the Yule Ball with?” you ask McLaggen. You didn’t really know him back then.

He clears his throat. “Er, one of the girls from Beauxbatons.” You don’t fail to notice the sympathetic look Leanne gives him. Neither does McLaggen. “It’s alright,” he laughs. “I’m over it now. Really.”

“Wait, what happened?” you ask.

“Took his V-card and fled the country,” says Carmichael.

“Oi, it wasn’t like that.” Carmichael raises his eyebrows at him. “Alright, maybe that was the jist of it.”

“I hear that, mate,” says Davies and you give him a tight-lipped smile in commisseration, remembering how he was devastated when Fleur Delacour went home to France and never wrote back to him.

“What about you?” asks McLaggen. “Who did you go with?”

You shrug. “I didn’t have a date. I just went alone.”

“Yeah, but you never finished the night alone,” says Alicia, coming over with Wood, Katie and Angelina. “Remember?”

At the Yule Ball, Alicia noticed that you didn’t have a date either. And you hadn’t wasted time in finding out why she too had spurned invitations from the boys at Hogwarts. But you’d rather she didn’t flaunt it in front of your current boyfriend, who you notice, holds onto your waist a little firmer than before as you sit in his lap.

“I am thinking that I am not the only one who vos heartbroken after the Trivizard Tournament,” says Krum, and you’re grateful that the normally stoic Seeker has warmed up enough to change the subject again. He looks intently a Cho. “I vos sorry about vot had happened to Diggory.”

Cho smiles, a little sadly but she doesn’t look upset. “He would have been here too. At headquarters with us. He’d have loved being part of the D.A.”

As the night draws into the small hours of the morning, the group begins to retire to bed. Alicia, Angelina and Wood make their excuses since they’re getting up early to leave tomorrow. Soon after Katie and Leanne yawn and declare they’re tired and go upstairs too, shortly followed by Davies. 

“Right then. Party favours anyone?” asks Carmichael, wiggling his eyebrows at the five of you remaining.

Without waiting for a reply, he leaps off the sofa and runs up the stairs.

“Where’s he going?” you ask Marietta.

“Probably to get something from his bag.”

This perplexes you. “Where’d he get his bag?”

“I stole it from the Department of Magical Confiscated Items before I left the Ministry.”

“You did?!”

“Marietta Edgecombe.” McLaggen whistles, impressed. “It should be your mug shot in there.” He points to the front page of the Prophet, still open on the table. But Marietta just flips her hair over her shoulder with a proud smile as she hears Eddie trundling back downstairs with something clutched in his hand.

“Right, here we go,” says Eddie putting three heart-shaped vials on the table.

“Nope, no way,” you say. You recognise them immediately as love potion.

“Look, it’s different. You drank a whole bottle last time, didn’t ya? If you have half each it’s a better experience.”

You and McLaggen exchange glances. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself again.

“What was it like last time?” Cho asks you. “I’ve never had a love potion before.”

“What do you mean ‘what was it like?’ - you saw me.”

“No, I remember that. Vividly,” grins Cho, and you expect she too is remembering you trying to kiss her like a possessed maniac. “What did it feel like?”

“I dunno, I was in a weird state of mind.” You and McLaggen were broken up and you remember begging him to fuck you in the cubicle as he resisted your pleas. “But it still felt… good, I guess. Circumstances aside.”

That’s an understatement. It felt really good. You wonder what it’d be like if McLaggen wanted you in the same insane, feral way you wanted him that night. It’s not as if he’s shy when he’s feeling amorous but still, the idea makes your cheeks flush. 

“Should we?” you ask him.

“You want to?” He reaches across your legs to pick up the small bottle. “I’m not doing it right here though.”

“Good, I don’t even remotely want to know what your turned-on face looks like, mate,” laughs Carmichael before swerving a cushion that McLaggen tosses at his head.

“Are you guys…?” You look between Marietta and Cho. Marietta nods but Cho looks at Krum waiting for his answer. He shakes his head and Cho looks slightly disappointed. 

“Not tonight,” says Krum. “I vant to be lucid when I’m with you.”

She looks taken aback by his forwardness but it cheers her up significantly. McLaggen hesitates looking at the bottle but you press his hand closed and look at him meaningfully. Maybe, just maybe, using it with him could repair your so-far tainted relationship with the potion.

McLaggen tears his eyes from your hungry look and helps you to your feet. “Right, we’re turning in to get some rest. See you guys later.”

You squeal when he grabs your hand, dragging you towards the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You close the bedroom door behind you and lock it with a wave of your borrowed wand. You pause thoughtfully. “I’m gonna move the chest of drawers in front of the door - just in case.”

“A bit overkill, isn’t it?” asks McLaggen.

“I wanted to fuck anything and everything last time. It’s just an extra precaution.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs, turning the small vial in his hands and sitting down on the bed. “You sure it’s not going to be too intense for you? We don’t have to.”

“I mean, based on what happened to me last time, you know you lose most of your autonomy, right? All you’ll want to do is fuck me.”

“That’s all I want to do most of the time as it is,” he grins. 

“I’m serious. It’s like losing yourself and only listening to the horny part of your brain.”

He doesn’t look too concerned with this revelation. “Sure you want to do it again? You hate love potions.”

“I just hate bad experiences with them. Are you sure you want to?”

“I’m always sure when I’m with you,” he says as you sit down on the edge of the bed beside him. He opens the stopper decisively and takes a drink. You both stare at the bottle.

“That’s almost all of it…” you say, your pulse rate quickening, remembering how you felt when you drank an entire bottle. 

“It felt like barely a sip!” He holds it up to the light. “I think there’s about a quarter left.”

“That’s a generous estimate.” 

McLaggen is much bigger than you after all - maybe it’s fine if he has more. You take the tiny bottle, drink the last few drops and when the liquid spills down your throat you immediately feel it warming in your chest. The burning sensation sinks lower and lower into your pelvis.

You look at Cormac. God, he’s beautiful with his messy curls and his eyes focusing intently on your face. But his usually bright green eyes almost look black right now. 

“Your eyes…” you say, blinking up at him.

“My eyes?” He blinks a few times. “What about your eyes? They’re so pretty.” He cups your face with both hands. “So, so pretty.”

With difficulty, you tear your eyes off him and look at the door.

“Let me just move the drawers,” you say, turning on the bed to face the door so you can grab the wand lying on the other side of the mattress. “Wingardium Leviosa - oh fuck -”

Your careful movement of the drawers is interrupted when Cormac crawls behind you on all fours and clambers over you, squeezing your tits from behind and knocking your wand arm so they crash into the door with a thud.

“Wait - Cormac -“ The feeling of his hot breath against your ear as he nuzzles into your neck makes your cunt throb. You extend your wand arm towards the door again. “Muffliato.”

White noise buzzes around the bedroom door as you place your wand down and try to turn around to kiss him but his body cages you in, preventing you from changing position. 

Cormac roughly pushes your T-shirt and bra up over your head so he can grope the bare flesh of your chest from behind. 

“Fuck. You smell so good,” he says, breathing in the scent of your hair. 

You feel his cock pressing against your backside. You want his touch more than anything right now but there’s a niggling feeling at the back of your mind. The sensible, ‘too serious’ part of your brain is yelling at you. Calling you an idiot for locking yourself in. But the love potion flowing through your veins is shouting louder. Telling you to do whatever will ease the throbbing sensation in your underwear.

Your core burns when he removes a hand from your chest and you hear the gentle clinking of his belt unbuckling. He’s never asked to fuck you like this before - you don’t mean under the effect of love potion - but from behind. And without any preamble, insistence on eating your pussy first or sweet murmured words of how much he loves you.

Silently he reaches around and unbuttons your jeans and when his hand brushes over your pussy you let out a whimper. It’s only the lightest graze but your skin tingles in response. Cormac pulls your jeans and underwear down to your knees, not even bothering to remove them completely as you remain on all fours.

“Fuck,” comes his low, ragged breath when he sees your pussy - blushed pink, sopping wet and ready for him to do whatever the fuck he wants with you.

Suddenly his chest is pressed up against your back and the length of his cock rubs underneath you, along your lips and brushing your clit. Every sensation is heightened. From the way his hands find your hard nipples to how his stubble scratches your shoulder as he kisses and bites your skin.

You feel yourself getting stickier and wetter from the way he’s dragging his length along your cunt. Until you realise he’s barely moving at all - that it’s you who’s pushing back against him chasing the gentle friction while he sucks a fresh bruise on your shoulder blade.

Cormac’s hands cease their rough groping of your body and you feel him position himself at your slick entrance. The head of his cock slowly glides between your folds but you can’t wait for him to slowly sink into you. Full of longing, you urge your hips backwards, feeling a shiver go up your spine as he penetrates you.

“So fucking tight…” he groans as he grips the soft curve of your hips and you rock on your knees until he’s pressed flush up against you. You unsteadily bring your hand to your clit but he reaches round and pushes your own hand aside so he can toy with the pulsing bundle of nerves, begging for attention. The rough pads of his fingers, coated in your juices, dance against you in time with your rocking. 

Bright, white light - brighter than any Patronus - flickers behind your eyelids as you chase the sensation. You pant and whine under his touch, feeling like a wild animal in heat as you get yourself off on his cock. But why isn’t he moving? You had expected from the way he crawled on top of you that he’d be desperate to fuck you too. 

“Cormac, fuck - fuck me… please,” you babble, knowing how much he likes it when you beg for him. The steady rhythm of his fingers picks up, rubbing in circles all over your clit.

“I can’t - can’t -” He swallows.

You push your hips back harder, gyrating into him as far as you can, feeling the stinging stretch of his cock opening you up as your body cries out for him. You bounce back wildly against his still body and your pussy clamps and convulses around him. Cormac frantically works your clit under his hand, guiding you to the blinding light just out of your own reach.

“Why?” You sob, in a pathetic, drawn-out wail. You were sure he’d want you the way you wanted him in the Prefect Bathroom. The way you want him right now. But here you are, making an idiot of yourself again, the love potion making you act in a way that you know is embarrassingly unbecoming but your body doesn’t seem to care.

He grits his teeth. “If I start - I won’t - I can’t be gentle.”

Oh shit.

“Don’t be gentle, then. Fuck me - fuck, fuck…”

Pleasure floods through your entire body, the love potion setting every nerve ending ablaze as your orgasm takes hold of you. You don’t even realise how loudly you’re cumming until he grunts your name and you can barely hear it over your own mewling.

Your arms give way and your face presses against the sheets as you collapse in a dishevelled heap, catching your breath and feeling your cunt twitch helplessly in the wake of your orgasm. The feeling you’ve only experienced once before, of love potion evaporating from your consciousness and your thoughts becoming instantly coherent, washes over you as your chest heaves and intense clarity sets back in.

He pulls out of you and your hips slump down to meet the bed too. But the anticipated sensation of his cum leaking out of you doesn’t happen.

“Did you…?” You look over your shoulder and watch him silently remove his T-shirt over his head. He clenches his jaw as he takes off his jeans. Cormac straddles your lying figure from behind and his hands massage the flesh of your ass, roaming over your curves until his thumbs spread your pussy - still flushed and swollen for him.

“Are you okay?” you ask. He doesn’t reply - he simply adjusts himself, taking hold of his warm, wet cock. You suck sharply through your teeth when he forces himself down into your sensitive cunt. 

Oh, fuck.

You can barely move. You try to tilt your hips up, to find a better angle but his weight on your thighs presses down on you - hard. Maybe if you had a pillow to lie on…

“Let me just grab -”

His hand comes down with lighting quick reflexes and pins your outstretched arm.

“No.”

He grinds down on you, using his forearm to push on your back so you’re flat against the mattress as his cock rams undiscerningly against your G-spot. And you realise, as he ramps up pace, that he was fighting against the love potion, letting you cum first so he could finally give in to the urge to fuck you mercilessly.

Cormac’s hand laces through your hair and wrenches your head back. He kisses you desperately but you wince and attempt to pull back. He makes a shushing noise, his lips pressing against the side of your face. 

“Shh, just take it… take it… take it…” Every hushed insistence is punctuated with a thrust.

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Cormac is taking your permission not to be gentle seriously. Your pussy leaks as you forget to protest and your body willingly accepts the uncomfortable hold he has on you. His fingers remain firmly entwined in your hair as he fucks himself into you. You wonder if he can even register that you’re his girlfriend and not just a warm, wet fucktoy for him to do whatever he pleases.

You know he’s being too rough with you. He knows he’s being too rough with you. But right now he doesn’t care. You wonder if he’s always wanted to fuck you like this and it’s just that the love potion has made him lose all sense of how he should behave.

The thought makes your pussy clench - that he’s always been so loving and gentle with you because he knows he ought to be. That he makes himself hold back because knows he’s so much bigger and stronger than you.

And now…

You let out an involuntary whine and quickly feel yourself blush right down to your chest when he laughs in response. A triumphant laugh, with his teeth bared against your cheek as he continues to thrust down into your pussy, his hips slapping your backside so hard it stings.

Fuck, you’re going to cum again. Going to cum from being used as nothing but a hole for Cormac to empty himself into. His free hand slides under your chest and squeezes your breast roughly. It’s definitely going to leave a mark. 

Your thighs twitch as your G-spot is fucking pounded into submission. You can’t tense and squeeze the way you normally do so you just have to accept your fate and pray that his cock keeps hammering into that same exact spot that you’re so desperate for. You wonder if he’d listen if you told him to keep going.

“Please, Cormac - there. Keep - fuck - right there.”

“Yeah? Fuck. You’re such a slut. Such a pretty, fucking, slut,” he slurs his words right against your ear.

Oh shit.

He’s never called you that before. Probably because he knows under normal circumstances you’d curse him. But you’re in no position to do so right now. And what’s worse - for some reason, it turns you on in a way that you never imagined it would.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“That’s right,” he says, gritting his teeth. “You gonna cum for me like this?”

You try to reply in the affirmative but instead, a broken yelp is ripped from your throat. The bedsheets bundle up tight under your fists as another wave of ecstasy takes hold of you, dragging you by your hair under the surface. 

And then you feel the drop approaching without any indication of slowing down. 

An empty dark space filled only by Cormac fucking you so hard that his hips drive you right down into the mattress. So deep and so tight that the air is forced from your lungs under the sheer weight of him. Every part of your walls constricts around his cock, gratefully squeezing him, thanking him for making you cum like this.

He lets go of your hair and anchors himself to your body by holding onto your tits. He gasps and groans wildly, and with a few more deep, grinding thrusts he pushes as deep as he can, cumming deep into your cunt. You twitch involuntarily around his cock, the aftershock milking every last drop he empties into you.

Cormac’s dead weight collapses on top of you and he pants breathlessly for a few moments. Even though you’re crushed, you’re comforted by his warm body. But it doesn’t last long. He pulls out of you and lies on his side, quickly brushing loose strands of hair out of your face.

“Baby… baby, are you okay?”

You remain lying on your front and turn your head to look at him. His eyes are full of deep concern.

“Yeah, I’m - I’m more than okay… are you?”

“I dunno, I - I tried to hold back but… fuck -” He brings his hand to his head. “I - called you a slut,” he whispers.

You laugh and pull yourself close to him, lying on your side and feeling his cum leaking out of you onto your thigh.

“Are you sure you’re alright? The love potion’s not -”

“Yes,” you stress. 

He looks at your breasts, covered in blotches. “Oh, god.” Cormac moves downward and places soft kisses on your chest, so gentle it makes you giggle.

“I’m sorry.”

“I told you - it’s okay. Are you feeling alright?”

“Just - fuck - I never let myself lose control like that.”

Your suspicions are confirmed.

“You know… you’re allowed to lose control when you’re with me. I’m not that fragile.”

“But -”

“No, listen, I know you’re a gentleman and I love that you make me feel loved, even adored when we have sex. I do. But if I’d known you had wanted to just pin me down and fuck me hard before, I would have let you. Wanted you to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You shuffle down to meet him and smirk. “I’m not saying all the time. You know how much I like being adored.”

He smiles and kisses the top of your head, before pulling you close.

“I don’t want to break you.”

“Psht, I can handle it.” you smile. 

You lie quietly, breathing in the warm amber and jasmine scent lingering on his chest. It smells like home to you.

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you that time in the Prefect’s Bathroom. I mean, after that, I almost feel bad for not fucking you back then,” he murmurs into your hair and inhales deeply. You wonder if you smell like home to him too.

You laugh. “It was rough. But you made the right decision.”

“I mean, fuck, I had you. And I still felt like… I dunno. Like I was going crazy. You were right in Slughorn’s class.”

“In Potions class? What?” Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, trying to recall.

“Way back in our first lesson together, when you said they should be banned -” He frowns. “- I feel sick thinking what would have happened if it was me instead of you who drank it at the seventh-year party. I was able to hold you but if it was the other way around you wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

You shrug. “I’d have done alright if I had my wand.” 

“Unlikely. I’ve seen you duelling, remember?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t have duelled you - I’d just have done a binding spell.” You mimic waving your wand. “‘Incarcerous’ - then you’d be tied up so I could just wank you off. Sorted.”

You said it as a casual joke but Cormac’s breath catches in his throat as he holds you. 

“What?” You look up and see his face has turned pink.

“I think…” He clears his throat and laughs. “I think that’s just awoken something in me.”

You gasp in mock scandalisation. “Cormac McLaggen tied up and forced to cum by someone who ‘wouldn’t have stood a chance’ otherwise.”

“It was you who suggested it!” He protests as he laughs and rolls on top of you, lying between your open hips. He presses his forehead against yours and you look in his eyes. They’re normal again. Devastatingly green. 

“Imagine the Daily Prophet found out that’s what I’d been doing to you the whole time you were here, kidnapped.”

“Stop, I can only get so hard,” he smirks.

Cormac kisses you and runs his hand down the back of your thigh. You suck on his bottom lip before grinning up at him wickedly. “Who’s a slut now?”

Chapter 17: Purpose

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