#she’s very different then how I imagine hermione

[rafesslxt]

Love Potion ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ | Mattheo Riddle

summary: y/n thought she would smell something different while making Amortentia

warning: enemyxlover vibes, cursing, mattheo blushing for a second

note: shorter than usual but got this idea and had to write ( obviously there are other imagines like this so no not a new original idea i mean )

Together with my friends Harry, Ron and Hermione I walked to out next class potions. This year Professor Slughorn was teaching us and I really enjoyed what we learned so far.

Today we shared class with slytherin. Everyone got in and sat down, waiting for Professor to start.

" Good evening everyone, today you are going to learn how to make a love potion. The strongest to be exact. It is called Amortentia."

All the girl started giggling but I was distracted by a strong scent, something like mens cologne.

" Who can tell me something about it? " Professor Slughorn asked. Hermione‘s hand shot up into the air. " Yes, Miss Granger."

" Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world. It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. Also Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what -"

" Yes yes yes Miss Granger, 10 points for gryffindor. And the rest of the students should figure the last point out by themselves, right?" Hermione nodded and looked at the example in front of her.

" All the ingredients are on your tables, you can either partner up or do the potion on your own. You have time till 10 minuten before the class ends. Have fun!" He clapped into his hands and everybody started.

Ron and Harry decided to do the potion on their own while Hermione and I decided to team up. It went really well until my nose was filled with this strong scent again. I looked around and the only person walking behind me was Riddle. I rolled my eyes at the thought of having his cologne in my nose.

" What is it with you? You seem so tense since we started class." Hermione asked while stirring the potion. " I have Riddles fucking strong cologne in my nose. This guy needs to start using less of it."

She knew about my hate towards him and everything he does. But I didn‘t started it, he did and I was never one to back down. So we tried to get on each other‘s nerves on every opportunity.

"Oops." i heard and felt a shoulder bumping into my side, almost knocking the potion over. I turned my back and saw Mattheo. " Wow, really mature. But what did I expect from you huh?" i snickered and turned back.

As everyone got ready, Professor Slughorn walked around the class and looked at eachs Amortentia.

" Very good ladys. May I take this for an example?" Hermione nodded proudly and we watched him putting it on the table in front of all of us.

" You all did a great job. Now I want you all to take a deep breath trough your nose and smell the potion in front of you." Everyone did as he said but again I couldn‘t smell anything but that stupid cologne.

"Y/n, why don‘t you tell me what you smell?" Professor Slughorn asked you smiling, pointing at the potion you and Hermione made. " I would love to professor, but I can only smell Mr. Riddle‘s cologne cause he apparently doesn‘t know when to stop spraying."

I gave Mattheo a dirty look but got confused really fast due to his confused look. What? No barking back?

" I don‘t wear any today, I rushed out of my common room cause I overslept." My eyebrows drew together, I didn‘t really understand why I would smell his cologne all class.

" Maybe If you take a step closer to the potion you can concentrate on the single ingredient you smell." Professor Slughorn suggested.

I did as he said and took a deep breath in again. " Um, I smell Sandlwood, bergamot and something like the deep ocean.. sea salt maybe."

I was in some kind of trance while smelling it. It was lovely, i felt so light and some goosebumbs formed on my body.

I looked up seeing Hermionie smiling. " What?" I whsipered. " Miss Granger, could you tell us the last fact for the Amortentia ?" Mr. Slughorn asked her.

" Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what attracts them." Attracts them? No no no..

I look at Mattheo, who‘s already smiling from head to toe. " Very good Miss Granger, now have a good day! And remember: Amortentia is a very dangerous potion! You should never underestimate it!"

We packed our stuff and left the class. " So what was that all about y/n? Smelling Mattheo? I mean do you really have a crush on that doucheba-" Ron startet but got interrupted shorty after " Yeah y/n, you have a little crush huh?“ Mattheo swung his arm around me, taking me away from my friends.

"What the fuck are you doing?" We rounded a corner and he stopped. " No playing around anymore little princess. Was that supposed to be a joke ?" I hope so too. " Because I smelled your fucking perfume the whole time too!"

" You - You did what?" I almost whispered, my hand flying onto my mouth. " I smelled you the whole time. Vanilla and something like strawberry.. fuck I wanted to devour you so bad." He came closer, pressing me against a wall, his chest against mine. "Tell me you don‘t feel the same, tell me I can go fuck myself and tell me to get my hands off of you."

I couldn‘t. He was right, I wanted to tell him to fuck off and to not touch me, but I simply couldn‘t. " Y/n.." he whsipered my name, coming closer with his face. Then it hit me, it has to be a joke.

I started laughing which he just answered with a confused look. " It is a joke right? You try to fuck with my head because I said I smelled you while smelling the potion. I smelled your cologne not you. Somebody else could wear it too."

" I‘m not joking y/n." " Prove it."

And from one second to another, my whole life changed. He took my face in his hands and pressed his lips again mine. Hard at first but the kiss got softer and passionate. I slowly kissed him back, putting my hands on his chest. He let my face go and put his hands on my hips, squeezing them a little bit.

Out of breath I broke the kiss, his lips red and swollen, smirking. "So you don‘t hate me huh?" I grinned. "Oh shut up." He smiled back at me and kissed me again.

—

hope you had fun reading 🫶🏻

Masterlist

xoxo sarah

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[theonotti]

MIO | OS | t.n.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: Voldemort won. Harry Potter is dead. But the Order of the Phoenix is still fighting, with two surprising allies who have very different reasons for aiding their cause.

Warnings: Pretty angsty. AU where Voldemort did not die at the end of DH.

Notes: This is heavily inspired by Secrets & Masks and Manacled. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

That Final Night One Shot

Late.

They’re fucking late.

Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Theo looks down at his watch. 

Twenty minutes late, to be exact.

“How long are we expected to wait here?” Mattheo growls, pacing across the wood of the decrepit bar. The floorboards creak with every step. Theo is sitting at one of the tables, a sigh forcing its way out of his lungs as he watches his friend. In one hand is a cigarette, the other hand mindlessly tracing the vandalism that had been scratched into the top of the table. 

“Another ten minutes and then we’re fucking off.”

The bar has been long abandoned, making it their top choice for discreet meetings. They had cycled through a few different locations before they finally found the bar. The walls are a sloppy black color, which is mostly covered in 80’s posters, both movies and musical talents alike. Theo’s eyes drift from poster to poster. He’s seen them what feels like a thousand times, and yet he still finds it hard to tear his eyes away when he stares at them. 

An hour has already passed since their arrival, but that was due to the ungodly amount of wards and disillusionment charms that they needed to cast before the meeting, a ritual that has become quite routine. Once everything is set, they’ll briefly discuss what they’ll say, and then they wait. Theo finds the extra waiting time peaceful, usually. It gives him a chance to mentally prepare for the carnage that comes to his psyche afterwards. The guilt. The fear. But this time, the stakes are higher, increasing the tension in his muscles much too soon. He can feel the pain already in his lower back, and he doesn’t want to imagine the aches he’ll be feeling once he returns home. 

“Can’t we just kill them?” 

Theo considers this question as he lets his eyes jump back to Mattheo.

“That would probably defeat the purpose of why we’re here.”

“Sure, but I still hate Weasley and his stupid face. Just one Cruciatus curse at his ugly face would be okay, surely. I won’t even make it a long one. Four minutes tops.”

Theo boredly watches the smoke from his cigarette float up towards the ceiling as he ignores Mattheo. Every moment that passes increases his irritation. He finds himself wondering if it’s a power move on their part. They hold all the cards, so they can keep him waiting. 

Something in the air triggers, both men looking towards the door. Theo’s fingers tense around the cigarette as he brings it to his mouth to take another drag, his other hand dropping down from the table to clench around his wand as it rests on his lap. The dimly lit room has a smoky haze, all thanks to Mattheo and Theo disregarding the “No Smoking Allowed” sign that is appropriately starting to fall off the wall.

The door opens, Ron Weasley followed by Hermione Granger walking in. Theo has long lost count of how many times they’ve met with Granger and Weasley, yet it still feels jarring every time he sees them. Maybe it’s because their appearance catches him off guard each time.

Despite them all being in their mid twenties, they all look tired and worn. The rosey cheeks that Granger sported while they were in school are now gaunt and hollow. Dark circles are painted under her eyes, along with Weasley’s, and she keeps her bushy hair contained in two french braids going down her back. Weasley keeps his hair short now, and his body is more built than it had ever been when they were at Hogwarts. His boy-like features are long gone, with gray already peppering his ginger hair, and if Theo didn’t know any better, he would’ve guessed that Weasley was in his late thirties at the least. The life in their eyes had long drained out, replaced with a coldness that chilled anyone who happened to be stuck in their gaze.

War hadn’t been kind to Theo or Mattheo either.

Mattheo has more scars on his face than he did back in school, and he grew his hair long in a feeble attempt to hide them. There was a time that he wore them like a badge of honor, but since the start of the war and his PTSD becoming worse than ever, they no longer were something he pretended to be proud of. He’s since developed an anxiety twitch, his whole face seeming to spasm whenever there’s a loud noise not caused by him, or tense moment. Though they don’t live together anymore, now that Theo has full ownership of Nott Manor, when they had, Theo could remember all the nights of hearing his best friend scream and cry in his sleep from across the mansion. It was more often than not, and it was unbearably hard to get Mattheo to calm down from the vivacious nightmares.

The opposite could be said for Theo. Instead of nights filled with intense dreams of death and melancholy, Theo simply doesn’t sleep. He couldn’t, for the life of him, shut his brain off. And while that had always been an issue for him to some degree, it had become exacerbated since his transition from student to soldier. Theo doesn’t know what being tired feels like anymore. It’s so ingrained in his psyche that it would be more abnormal for him to not be tired. All he can do is adjust, living off coffee and the occasional upper to keep him moving.

Weasley leans on the wall beside the door. His demeanor is much more unpleasant than normal as his eyes flit between Theo and Mattheo. Theo pretends not to notice as he looks at Granger, who’s standing in the middle of the room. She always did all the talking. Theo assumes it’s because of the way she carries herself, and they certainly take her more seriously than they could any Weasley. Besides being a fighter for the Order of the Phoenix, Granger is a war negotiator. She deals with prisoner exchanges and, eventually, peace talks. Although, considering it’s been seven years since the Battle of Hogwarts, Theo is less confident of the possibility of any sort of peace treaty happening any time soon. For the entire duration of the war, it was her that Theo dealt with when it came to these sorts of things, before and after their betrayal. 

She clears her throat.

“What information do you have for us?”

The strain in her voice is lost on no one. The tension in the air is so thick, Theo is convinced he could grab it if he tried.

Mattheo stops his pacing, turning to face her full on. His anger is palpable.

“Stop with the bullshit,” He snaps. “Let’s talk about why we’re really here today.”

Weasley’s hand tightens around his wand, but he doesn’t move. Theo keeps his eyes on him to ensure it stays that way before turning back to Granger. 

“You have Malfoy.” Theo’s voice is quiet, tone neutral.

The corners of her mouth twitch upward.

“We have Malfoy.”

Mattheo lets out a frustrated sigh.

“We can’t continue to cooperate with you until you hand him back.”

Granger’s expression doesn’t change, making it clear that this reaction was expected. 

“He’s quite the bargaining tool. What are you willing to give for him?” A beat passes. “Or I guess I should say, who?”

Mattheo turns to look at Theo, who can tell just by that exchange of a glance that his friend’s patience is wearing horrifically thin.

“We can ensure the release of Luna Lovegood and Seamus Finnegan. And we’re prepared to give you the maps of the hidden prisons in Sussex.” Theo conveniently forgets to mention that they were already planning to give them the maps, regardless of the way things went at this meeting.

Granger turns to look at Weasley, who merely raises his eyebrows, before turning back to Theo.

“He’s Draco Malfoy.” 

Theo’s hand curls tighter around his wand.

Mattheo huffs loudly, throwing his hand down and smacking it on the bar top. The sound is so loud that Granger flinches, and Weasley pushes off the wall suddenly, but doesn’t move forward.

“You know bloody well that our heads will be on a fucking spike if we don’t get him back,” He hisses at them. “Then who will aid your bloody Order? You think there’s anyone else who will risk their necks like we have? Honestly?”

“Regardless of your help to the Order, do you really think we can just hand Voldemort back one of his best fighters?” Granger's voice raises just a touch. Mattheo takes a step towards her.

“You’ll be singing a different fucking tune when we’re dead and you realize the next on the list is you. You’re losing the goddamn war. Biblically. You need us. Alive.”

Theo waits for Mattheo to finish his outburst before he turns his attention back to Granger. He knows where this is going.

Fuck, he knows where this is going. 

“What else do you want, then?”

Theo’s hands tremble slightly. He clenches his right fist around his wand even more, the left bringing the cigarette back to his mouth quickly. 

Mattheo shakes his head, turning away as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it with his want.

Granger tilts her head as she looks at Theo, her expression shifting to a tired one, as if the answer is obvious. When she speaks again, her voice is just above a whisper.

“You know who we want, Nott. It’s been almost a year.”

Theo’s nostrils flare.

“Not on the table.”

~

Suffice to say, the raid couldn’t have possibly gone worse.

How the Order could’ve been so prepared for them was beyond Theo.

One minute, everything seemed to be going to plan as Theo, Mattheo, Malfoy, Blaise and a few others sauntered into the safe house. Quick in and out. Nothing too complicated. The next, it was like the floor fell out from under their feet.

How did things get so royally fucked up?

Theo woke with a start, sitting up abruptly, covered in a layer of sweat as his eyes darted around the room. It took him a minute to get reoriented, and only then did he realize that he was in his own living room, laid on the couch with a blanket draped over him. Ripping the blanket off, his hands flew towards his abdomen. When he looked down, he found he was shirtless, but his skin was unharmed, save for some minor scarring. New editions to the collection. He then reached up and touched the top of his head. Nothing. Not even a scrape.

What?

Slowly, he kicked his feet over the side of the couch and stood up. The room spun for a moment, and his joints ached, but otherwise, he was completely normal. 

The manor was silent. So silent that it made the hairs on the back of Theo’s neck stand up. Almost automatically, he walked across the floor, his bare feet cold against the hardwood. He tried to keep his footfall soft as he continued listening for any sort of sound. There, in the faint distance, he could hear… something. Grabbing a hoodie off the back of a chair, he slipped it over his bare torso and zipped it up halfway before making his way towards the sound. 

Theo stepped into the kitchen. A flash of movement came from the other slide of the sliding door that leads to the courtyard. His hand instinctively went to grab his wand from his pocket, only for him to realize it wasn’t there. At the same moment, he also realized the person outside was Mattheo, having a smoke. His tense fingers relaxed, his arm falling back to his side.

Mattheo looked over as Theo slid the door open and walked out. 

“Look who’s awake. How’re you feeling, Sleeping Beauty?”

“Who healed me?”

Mattheo placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense.

“You wound me, Nott. You don’t think I’m capable?”

Theo shook his head almost immediately.

“It’s not as… clean when you do it. And I have the scars to prove it.” He pointed to his back, which was covered in scars thanks to a nasty run in with a car, a Bombarda cast, and Mattheo’s lack of concern to learn basic field emergency spell casting.

Mattheo sighed in resignation before saying, “You’re right. It wasn’t me.”

Theo waited for Mattheo to give elaboration, and when one wasn't given, he could feel his fingers curl into fists. Though Mattheo’s face was neutral, the tension radiating off his body could be felt a kilometer away.

“What did you do?”

Mattheo took a long drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through his nostrils before turning back to Theo.

“Theo…”

“What did you do, Riddle?”

Swallowing hard, Mattheo looked away from Theo.

“We got their best healer.” 

Theo blinked. A hostage?

“You took someone?” He asked, voice low. “That… that wasn’t part of the plan.”

Not that things ever went to plan. And not that they hadn’t ever deviated so far left and forced them to take hostages before. But there was something about the way Mattheo couldn’t look at him that made Theo’s fingers run cold. 

Mattheo shook his head as he took a seat on one of the lounge chairs. He let his head fall to his chest, as if it were too heavy to hold up anymore. “That wall fell on you. You were going to die, Theo. We needed…” He inhaled sharply before looking up again. “It was beyond us. We needed the help. We needed her.” 

Theo wracked his brain. The Order’s best healer? The Order’s best healer. Why does this mean something to him?

“Who is it?”

Mattheo leaned backwards in the seat so his back laid against the chair before he pointed at Theo, as if he was preemptively defending himself.

“You’re going to thank me. You’ll be pissed. But you’re going to thank me, ultimately.”

Theo’s nose twitched.

“Mattheo… who is it?”

Mattheo nodded back towards the house before vaguely replying, “She’s upstairs, in the North wing.”

Theo’s feet didn’t move, stuck to the floor like ice. His mind was running, a plethora of questions all begging to be answered. But his mouth forgot how to work as well. For a moment, all he was able to do was stare at Mattheo, who stared back briefly before nodding towards the house again.

“Go on.” His voice was soft.

Theo’s feet kicked on again, taking him back into the house as if they were on autopilot. 

Why the hell are you so nervous? You don’t even know who it is.

His wand was laying on the end table next to the staircase, which he grabbed and shoved in his pocket. His knees buckled as he walked up the stairs. Distantly, he could hear the sound of yelling and objects being thrown around. It didn’t take him long to figure out which closed door the sounds were coming from the other side of. He stood outside the black wooden door, listening. Trying to maybe discern who it was before he went in. 

He could just make out the wards that had been placed on the door. Laying a hand on the knob, he was relieved to find that he was able to touch the brass of the handle. Mattheo had been known to incorrectly cast the spell so no one could get through, which had more than once sent Theo or Malfoy through a wall. 

A shaky sigh pushing its way from Theo’s lungs and out of his mouth, he turned the knob and let himself inside the room. 

The color drained from Theo’s face.

Standing in the middle of the room, chest heaving and anger radiating off of like a stove top, was you. 

Suddenly, Theo was back at Hogwarts, standing in the Astronomy Tower. You were no longer in your casual shirt and jeans, but instead, in your Hufflepuff robes as you looked at him and told him you were leaving to join the Order.

“This war is above us, Theo. Dumbledore is dead. Harry Potter is dead. I can’t stand idly by and watch people die. I need to do something.” 

“Yeah? And what about me?”

“You could come with me.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“And you know I can’t stay.”

The memory hit Theo like a train. His breath hitched in his throat.

You turned to face him, freezing in the headlights of his gaze. The way your fury faltered at the sight of him made it clear that you were having the same out of body experience that he was. 

You certainly had been busy. All of the furniture in the room was broken. The night stand had been thrown against the pewter colored wall, leaving a dent in the dry wall and the wooden pieces scattered across the floor. A picture frame that Theo hung and forgot about was in ruins, the brunette girl in the picture cowering in the corner of the shredded pieces of photo paper. Feathers from the pillows littered the carpet. The mattress had been thrown off the bed frame, which was also now broken. 

Though he couldn’t focus on the damage that had been done to his guest room. He was too busy staring at you with the same confounded look he’d had when he first entered the room. 

Your hair was longer than he remembered it, pulled back so it was out of your face. Your features had grown with you, your cheekbones more prominent, your eyes with more bags, your cheeks with less color. There wasn’t a corner of Theo’s world that wasn’t burdened by war, and, unfortunately, that included you. His heart raced in his chest as he looked at you. He had locked the memory of you deep into the catacombs of his brain, not allowing himself to bring them out for any occasion. There wasn’t the time or need for it. This is war. When is there a moment for reminiscing on the worst day of his life?

But now there you were, standing in front of him, with a dumbfoundedly angry look on your face, casual clothes and longer hair. The flood gates were now opened, and he was overwhelmed with memories of you, running through his mind so quickly that he felt like he was spinning. 

Your eyes still twinkled in the light that streamed in through the curtains.

“You tell Mattheo Riddle that he can give me back my wand and we’ll see then if he’s able to force me into this room again.”

Theo flinched.

The sound of your voice alone made him feel the need to have a complete mental breakdown. You could’ve been cursing him out or singing in German and he would still feel the overwhelming urge to curl into a ball on the floor. Even with your anger, it still felt like a sweet symphony to Theo’s ears. 

He never thought he’d hear the sound again. 

Hell, he never thought he’d see you again.

Realizing you had spoken and he was just staring at you like an imbecile, he cleared his throat.

“You healed me.”

Your expression shifted, an emotion crossing your face that Theo couldn’t read. Standing a little straighter, you nodded.

“I’m a healer,” You said slowly, distantly. “It’s what I do.”

He snorted. That bleeding Hufflepuff heart.

“You could’ve let me die,” He pointed out, cocking his head to the side. 

You seemed to consider this briefly before saying, “In theory, yes.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Silence hung in the air between the two of you, coupled with the unmitigated tension. Theo’s hands were curled at his sides, not from anger, but to stop himself from giving into the inordinate compulsion to reach out and touch you. To prove to himself that he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating. That you were actually in front of him. You shifted your weight to your other foot.

“I don’t think I really could’ve, even if I wanted to.”

The words unsaid in this moment would keep Theo up at night for weeks.

Your eyes trailed down his body, studying him, taking in his bare chest underneath the hoodie. He swallowed hard, his body seeming to freeze under your gaze. Maybe he should’ve changed before coming into the room. At least maybe thrown on a proper shirt. He’d never had a hostage in his home before. There was no protocol book on the proper etiquette. 

Especially not when the hostage was his ex-girlfriend who’s now working on the opposite side of the war. 

You let out a strangled sigh.

“You have to let me go back, Theo. They need me. No one is trained on some of the things I am.” 

The shake of his head was immediate.

“You can’t even begin to comprehend what he would do if he found out Mattheo and I had you and then just let you go back,” He said in a strained yet soft voice. “I can’t. We can’t.”

Your nose twitched as you closed your eyes.

“I won’t fucking heal for him,” You declared in a low tone. “I’d rather be strung up in Godric’s Hollow to rot like all the other people he’s executed than heal for him.”

Theo tried to be rational as he considered what to do. There was a tug of war in his mind, his loyalties competing to decide the best course of action. The obvious answer was to turn you over to The Dark Lord, where you would be put on trial for the crimes he deemed you guilty of, and then punished accordingly. With the skills you hold, Theo knew that you would more than likely be put under the Imperius curse and forced to act as a healer for the Death Eaters. 

Though the answer was obvious, that didn’t make it correct. Not to him or to anyone else.

Theo knew. He knew you’d rather die than breathe the same air as the Death Eaters, let alone fix their wounds and send them back out to kill your people. His head throbbed as he tried to think of the best direction to go in. 

Because, in his head, letting you go was simply out of the question. 

~

“This is a negotiation, is it not?” Granger asks. “We have something you want, you have something we want. We exchange.”

Theo shakes his head as he smashes the end of his half smoked cigarette on the top of the table.

“She’s not for trade.”

“Well, she’s what we want.”

A bead of sweat trails down the side of his face. He ignores it.

“She’s nowhere close to being worth the same as Draco Malfoy. This isn’t a fair trade.” He means it, but not in the way that he presented it to them. Nothing they could offer would make it a fair trade in Theo’s eyes. They could offer the end of the war. They could offer his freedom from the Death Eaters. They could offer endless riches, or immortality, or anything else he could possibly dream up. None of it would equate.

“Then we’ll gladly take Luna and Seamus back as well,” Granger says through clenched teeth, expression reading that her patience is wearing thin. “To make up the difference.”

Theo opens his mouth to respond, but Mattheo cuts in before he gets the chance.

“You’ll take what we fucking give you.”

Granger shoots him a dagger filled glare. 

“We can no longer afford to play these games with you. You have our best healer. And we need her back.” She rolls her head before her eyes fall back on Theo. “We have been patient. We have accepted that we had nothing worth trading for her. Now we do. Malfoy’s importance to the Death Eaters is well known. Don’t patronize us by pretending we don’t have the upper hand here.”

A chill runs through Theo’s spine.

She’s right.

God dammit, she’s right.

Theo runs a hand through his messy hair, the most he’s moved since he sat down. His brain scrambles to come up with something, anything, that he can offer to remedy this. There has to be something of equal value. There has to be something he can give that would make them decide to let you stay. 

“Before you try to come up with some feeble offer, know that we won’t be backing down from this,” Granger says as if she’s reading Theo’s mind. “You won’t be getting Draco Malfoy back unless we get her, regardless of what else you give. She’s the only card you have that could get him back.”

Theo’s eyes snap back to Granger, the anger boiling in his chest.

“This is a negotiation, is it not?” He repeats her words back to her. She smiles at him, but the gesture does not reach her eyes.

“Maybe negotiation is the wrong word for it.” She hums thoughtfully. “It’s more like a plea deal. Take it or leave it.”

~

“You’re up late.”

Theo jumped at the sound of your voice as he quickly flicked the light on.

He didn’t expect to find you in his kitchen, sitting cross legged on the island counter with the lights off. A bowl of what he could only assume was cereal was in your hands.

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“It’s four in the morning.”

You glanced up at the clock as well, before shrugging. 

“Fine, you’re up early.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Theo’s mouth. 

He could feel you studying him as you brought the spoon to your mouth. A flush of warmth filled his cheeks as he made his way to the fridge, making it a point to turn away from you. Still, he knew your eyes never left him. 

“You still don’t sleep much, huh?” You asked, mouth full of cereal.

He sighed as he pulled the carton of orange juice off the shelf.

“I’d say I don’t sleep at all these days.”

He popped the top of the carton before bringing it to his mouth and throwing his head back. You watched him carefully, seeming to pause your eating.

“You’re a feral one now, aren’t you?” You asked in a playful tone. “Drinking right from the carton? Who have you become, Theodore Nott?”

He laughed, the sound being so foreign to him these days, before saying, “I generally live alone, and I never host other people. No need to waste a glass, as far as I’m concerned.”

Him ignoring the last comment of yours was intentional. Despite the playfulness behind it, Theo doesn’t know how you would feel about the man he’s become, and he doesn’t want to dwell on that fact. 

You continue to laugh as you shake your head.

“Mad behaviour.”

Theo eyed you. 

“Says the girl sitting on the counter, in the dark, eating cereal.”

You smiled as you take another bite.

“Got me there.”

It had been almost two months since Mattheo had taken you hostage and made you Theo’s problem. In an attempt to keep peace, Theo gave you free reign of the entire manor and all of the land around it. After repairing the furniture in the guest room (multiple times, as you had to get your frustration out somehow), Theo allowed you to stay there. Before his death, Nott Sr. had created a dungeon-esque holding below the house, with cage like cells and torture weapons, but Theo had the area of the house completely closed off upon his arrival as head of estate, and he wasn’t planning to reopen it anytime soon. Besides, the thought of locking you in an actual cell made Theo physically ill. 

“How’s the escape plot going?” Theo asked as he leaned against the counter adjacent from you, juice carton still in hand.

“Considering I can’t apparate because you already had anti apparation wards in place, the wards Mattheo placed that are linked to my DNA so I can’t leave the estate at all, and that bed being the most comfortable thing I’ve ever slept on…” You listed, raising a finger with every reason. “ … I’d say it’s going quite terribly.”

Theo’s eyebrows hit his hairline as he let out a surprised huff.

“Mattheo has always been quite meticulous.”

“Well, he said he was afraid you’d let me go.”

Theo’s smile faded quite quickly. 

The first couple of weeks following your capture, you had made yourself scarce around the manor, mostly spending time in the North wing. Theo made it a point to stay out of your way. Not only for the sake of your anger, but because he needed to work out his own emotions about you being there. Even in this moment, looking at you in the kitchen, he still hadn’t quite worked out how the whole thing made him him.

After the first couple of weeks, you had slowly started making your way through the manor, exploring every crevice. Every nook and cranny. Theo knew it was to look for a weakness to exploit that could lead to your escape, but he didn’t comment that to you. Just let it sit in the back of his head.

With your emergence from your room also came your increased interactions with the dark haired lad. It was painful at first, just a curt nod here and there, but it slowly built up to exchanging jokes and sarcastic comments, and even as far as the two of you reading books in silence together in the library.

It was almost as if there was never a moment between the days you and him spent together at Hogwarts and now. Just cut the time apart out and sew the rest together like the war never happened.

Theo often found himself wondering if he was one of the weaknesses you were attempting to exploit. 

Your comment about Mattheo believing Theo would let you go did nothing to snuff out that thought.

He tried not to think about it too much.

You watched him carefully as he took another long sip of juice from the carton.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do with me yet?” 

Theo rolled his eyes, setting the juice on the black countertop next to him. 

“Nope.”

He didn’t bother to ask how you knew it was even up for debate. You’d always had a knack for just knowing things. And he couldn’t imagine that his debates with Malfoy and Mattheo were as quiet as he would’ve liked them to be.

“What are you leaning towards?” You asked innocently, your eyes studying him. He bit the inside of his cheek as he considered how to answer.

“Let’s see,” He mumbled. “Malfoy thinks I should turn you in. He doesn’t see why you’re useful here, and says you’d be better suited as a healer for… them.” He decided not to say Death Eaters, but you flinched at the idea anyway. “Mattheo thinks I should keep you here.”

Your eyes didn’t leave him as you took another bite of your cereal. Theo mirrored you with the orange juice. 

“But what are you leaning towards?”

“Not turning you in, that’s for damn sure.”

Your gaze pinned him, as your eyes narrow only slightly.

“So I’m stuck here then.” It was more of a statement than a question, and something about it made an ache burst through Theo’s chest. He had no idea how to respond, so he opted to say nothing, instead bringing the juice carton back to his lips. Your eyes followed him. “Theo, you’re a rational person. You know that I don’t want to be here. Why can’t you just let me go back to the Order?”

His eyes fluttered shut.

“It’s complicated.”

You set the bowl down on the counter before looking back up at him.

“Then simplify it for me.” 

All he could say in a breathy whisper was your name.

He didn’t know how. He couldn’t even simplify it for himself. 

~

It all happens at once.

Theo quickly stands, pushing the chair out from under him so quickly that it glides across the floor and into the wall. 

Weasley rushes forward, his wand pointed at Theo.

Mattheo grabs Weasley by the scruff of his shirt, roughly shoving him into the wall with the tip of his wand jabbing into the ginger’s jugular. The impact of his back against the hard surface causes Weasley to drop his wand, which Mattheo swiftly kicks across the floor. 

Granger puts her wand only inches from Mattheo’s head, though he doesn’t appear to notice. 

Theo directs his wand to Granger.

“The difference between you and I, Weasley,” Mattheo hisses in his face. “Is that I don’t have any pathetic qualms about making a person suffer. So please. Point your wand at one of us again. We’ll see who comes out the bigger man.”

“That’s enough, Riddle!” Granger shouts, pressing her wand into Mattheo’s temple. Theo steps forward and jams his wand through her hair and into her occipital scalp.

“Drop it.”

A beat passes.

Mattheo’s face twitches.

Granger slowly lowers her hand, her jaw clenched so tight that Theo is convinced her teeth will crack.

“We all want the same outcome,” She says in a quiet voice, still glaring daggers at Mattheo.

“It’s how we get there that we can’t seem to see eye to eye on,” Theo growls. 

Letting his hand drop back to his side, Theo takes a step back towards the table he had previously been occupying. 

“Let him go, Mattheo.”

The curly haired man glares into Weasley’s face for a moment longer, letting his deep breath smack against the ginger’s face before he shoves him away. Theo’s eyes follow Mattheo as he walks back to his pacing area, and then they flick back to Granger. She looks incensed over what just occurred, as Weasley adjusts his shirt, embarrassment painting his cheeks pink.

Theo opts to stay standing this time. 

“She’s not a part of the equation,” He says in a low tone. “We can give you the maps, Finnegan and Lovegood for Malfoy. Or we can give nothing at all.” 

A draft fills the room as the wind can be heard whipping outside over the silence. 

“And again, we are well aware of Draco’s importance to the Death Eater army,” Granger says in a tone that matches Theo’s. “There is no option. It’s her or nothing.”

Theo fights the urge to curse her.

“Then it’s nothing.”

~

The door hit the wall so hard, Theo could almost feel the drywall dent. In the moment, however, he couldn’t give less of a shit.

You whipped around to face him. The anger on your face couldn’t be missed, but neither could his. For a while, the two of you just stared at each other, speaking through daggered glares and heaving chests, as if words weren’t necessary. 

It was a moment of deja vu, calling back to the first time the two of you met in what became your assigned bedroom of the house. Both times equally as tense, but for radically different reasons. And this time, all of the pieces of furniture were entirely intact. 

Finally, Theo broke the silence.

“What business do you have, entering the field?”

Your nostrils flared.

“What business do you have, almost getting yourself killed?”

A breeze came in through the window, chilling the room further. As if it needed the help. 

“I was handling myself fine,” He said in a low voice. “Injuries are bound to happen-“

“A pelvic fracture and an open head wound are both severe injuries,” You countered in a raised voice. “You may have felt fine in the moment but you wouldn’t have after you lost two liters of blood just from the fractured pelvis alone. You needed care.” 

Theo felt like throwing things as the anger flared heavily in his chest.

“I could’ve apparated back to the manor after-“

“You would’ve splinched yourself with that severe of injuries, Theo,” You snarled, looking exasperated. “Mattheo came and got me.”

Theo made a mental note to kick the absolute shit out of Mattheo the next time he saw him.

“You could’ve said no!” He shouted. “You’re not my bloody on-call healer who gets to risk her life whenever I almost die.” The image of you in the middle of the fight, dodging multiple green casts in your wake, was burned into his retinas. Despite being safe in the Manor now, his chest was still reeling from the panic that flooded his heart and lungs when he fought to get to you.

You took a rushed step forward.

“Don’t fucking do that,” You said in a strained voice. “You don’t get to drag my arse back into your life-“

“You think I wanted this for you?” He shouted, cutting you off. “I didn’t drag you anywhere. I didn’t bring you here. I didn’t ask for this.”

You took another step towards him, more controlled this time. Theo almost took a step backwards to keep the distance.

Almost.

“But you kept me here. Why am I still fucking here, Theo?”

The words left his mouth before his brain had a chance to even consider them.

“Because you fucking left me before I was fucking done with you!”

Theo’s chest heaved, as he stared down at you. The room became painfully silent, the only sound being Theo’s breathing. You were holding your breath. 

“What does that mean?”

Theo didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“You left me to join the Order. You left me behind and I went bloody maniacal. I didn’t know a person could be touch starved for a specific set of hands, but your fingers burned their prints into my skin and I can’t get them to goddamn heal. And then Mattheo dropped you on my fucking door step and it was like I was an imprisoned man who just felt the warmth of the sun for the first time in years.”

You were frozen, staring at him like a deer in headlights.

“Theo…” A breathy whisper.

Theo shook his head, feeling a mix of anger and desperation in his head and heart. When he spoke, his voice was more calm this time, taking a low tone. 

“If love were a language then the only one I know how to speak is the one we wrote together. I couldn’t lose you again. I can’t lose you again.”

It was unclear who moved first. Maybe Theo. Maybe you. Maybe both. But somehow, the distance between the two of you closed, and Theo’s mouth was crashing against yours.

His left hand was on the small of your back, the other on the back of your head. His fingers weaved through your hair with a firm grip, as if to keep you from pulling away. Your hands were on his cheeks, lightly cradling his head between your palms as your fingertips teased the beginnings of his hairline. 

“I love you,” He said in a silent voice, his lips still pressed against yours in the desperate kiss. “I never stopped.”

“I love you too.” Your words came without a sliver of hesitation.

His tongue parted your lips, as your fingers moved to the back of his head. A groan forced its way up his throat. Your nails against his scalp drove him insane. It always had. Theo knew you knew that well. 

And with that, he pushed you onto the bed. 

~ 

“So…”

Theo closes his eyes at the sound of Mattheo’s voice. His steps are slow as they walk up the pathway of Nott Manor. In an effort to prolong the inevitable, Theo pulls a cigarette from his pocket, setting it between his lips before lighting it with his wand. 

“We don’t have a choice, do we?”

Theo looks up at the sky as he blows a plume of smoke upwards to join the clouds. He can’t look at Mattheo.

“No,” He finally says. “We don’t.”

Mattheo pulls a smoke of his own out, lighting it before taking a deep inhale. The only sounds in the air are the wind and his exhale.

“What if we just stopped aiding them?” He suggested after a beat too long of silence. “They’re losing. They need the information we’re feeding them. A few weeks without it would have them feeding out of our palms.”

Theo considers this as he plops down on the top step leading onto the porch. The cold from the wood seeps through his trousers.

Not that his body held any warmth to begin with. Not since he walked out of that bar.

“We don’t have a few weeks.”

Another cloud fills the air.

“The Dark Lord wants Malfoy back now.”

Theo’s heart already feels hollow as he thinks about what he is getting ready to do. 

Mattheo paces the cobblestone pathway, running his fingers through his curls as he takes another long drag of his cigarette.

“There has to be a way.”

Theo studies his friend. There’s very few people Mattheo holds loyalty to. The Order wasn’t on the list, despite the way they were risking everything to help them. The other Death Eaters didn’t have it. Hell, even his own father only held enough of Mattheo’s loyalty to keep him alive. Not enough for it to matter.

But Mattheo, from the moment they met until this moment in front of Nott Manor, was always fiercely loyal to Theo. And the way he desperately tries to come up with a solution to fix this for Theo pulls at his heart.

Because his loyalty to Theo also extends to you. When Theo told Mattheo that he was planning to betray Voldemort’s army in an effort to end the war and keep you with him, Mattheo wasted no time in joining him. No questions asked.

Mattheo was willing to risk his head to keep you safe if that was what Theo needed. And in this moment, Theo knew he didn’t thank his friend enough. 

His hands shake slightly as he brings the cigarette back to his mouth.

“I don’t think there is.”

He doesn’t want to sound as defeated as he does. But as his mind runs a million kilometers a second, it still comes up short on a way of getting out of this. 

Mattheo shakes his head angrily.

“This is bullshit.”

And Theo says nothing, his gaze fixed on the ground as he finishes his cigarette, and plans what he’s going to say once he goes inside. 

~

Oh Merlin, do I really have to leave?

Theo sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at your sleeping form. Your back was facing him, the blanket low enough to show the bare skin of your upper torso. 

He swallowed hard.

Five minutes. Just another five minutes.

But he knew he wouldn’t stop at five.

He was in his Death Eater robes, dressed to leave. This meeting wasn’t one he could afford to miss, and yet, watching you sleep in his bed was enough to make him at least consider it. 

Reaching over, he traced the lines of your right scapula, moving down to the left, feeling your smooth skin and shoulder blades beneath his fingertips. Your body rose and fell with every breath you took, but you did not stir at his touch. He brushed your hair down to the side so it all fell concurrently onto the sheets. 

Every time he tried to stand, his legs would defy him. 

Bloody hell, this is impossible, he thought to himself.

The temptation to kiss you was strong, but he resisted. He didn’t want to wake you, because then you would know he was leaving, and then you’d ask questions. One’s he didn’t yet want to offer up the answers to.

You didn’t know what he was about to do.

The door creaked open, making Theo jump. Mattheo stood at the threshold, also in his robes. His eyes flitted between his friend and you, before they settled on Theo again. All he did was nod, a gesture that Theo returned, before turning and leaving once again.

A sigh forcing its way out of his lungs, Theo stood up from the bed. Before walking out the door, he threw one last fleeting glance your way.

This better fucking work.

Once the door to his bedroom was shut, Theo walked through the manor in a flash, before finding Mattheo standing in the front garden. His friend gave him a look, and it was not lost on Theo the anxiety in his expression.

“Are you sure about this?”

Mattheo’s words hung in the air, swirling around above them with the wind. Theo slowly let his head fall backwards as he stared at the sky. For once in his life, his thoughts weren’t racing. He was confident in this decision. He had never been more confident about anything. 

“I’m sure.”

No more words were said. 

Grabbing Mattheo’s forearm, the two men apparated. When they reappeared, it was in an empty warehouse in Sussex. Windows lined the walls just a meter or so below the ceiling. The walls themselves were painted an off white colour that left them looking dirty, with hand prints and muck dusting the paint. It felt too big, in Theo’s opinion. If this were to become a regular thing, they’d need something smaller. With seats, preferably.

The two got to work, placing wards and disillusionment charms everywhere they could. Before they knew it, a whole hour had passed, and they were just finishing up. 

“You know I hate this right?” Mattheo asked as they regrouped in the center of the giant room. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Not what we’re doing necessarily but this meeting?”

Theo had to fight the urge to laugh.

“You think I like this any more than you do?”

Mattheo shook his head as he looked around the warehouse, taking in the metal beams that lined the ceiling. 

Theo took the moment of quiet to get his thoughts in order. Ever since he sent that damn letter, he had dreaded this moment. And now it was here, and though he had spent countless hours stewing and preparing, right now, he felt completely naked and defenseless. 

A sensation filled the air. Theo looked over at the same time that Mattheo did. The door creaked open, the sound echoing off the walls and around the air, before Hermione Granger, followed by Ron Weasley, the Weasley twins, Dean Thomas, Ginny Weasley, another Weasley they couldn’t place, and the blonde Triwizard Tournament champion from fourth year who Theo, for the life of him, could not remember the name of.

“All Gryffindors, mostly Weasels,” Mattheo mumbled under his breath. “Too much bloody red around here.” 

Theo fought the impulse to laugh.

The crowd of Order members approached them, all looking apprehensive. Granger stepped forward, her eyes jumping between the two of them.

“Nott.” When her eyes bounced back to Mattheo, the disdain became more apparent. When she spoke again, she spat the word out. “Riddle.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as Theo took a step forward, saving them the risk of what would happen if Mattheo were the next to speak.

“Granger.”

He debated on greeting the others, but decided against it. There simply wasn’t time for pleasantries. Besides, Theo didn’t particularly want to be polite to them. And he knew that Mattheo wanted nothing more than to raze the whole warehouse just because he saw that familiar flash of ginger hair one time, let alone several. So it was probably best to get right to the point.

“What’s this about?” The unfamiliar Weasley called out. 

It was hard for Theo not to grow annoyed. The amount of people in the building had him feeling overwhelmed, though he couldn’t exactly blame him. How else should they have responded? It could’ve been a trap, for all they knew. 

The moment Theo reached into his back pocket, a swarm of wands were pointing in his direction. In his periphery, he could see Mattheo’s fists clench. though he was grateful that his friend didn’t immediately start spitting off hexes and Unforgivables. Theo froze more out of politeness than fear, then slowed his movements down. With the same speed as a snail, he pulled out a couple of scrolls, tossing it on the floor halfway between where he stood and where she stood. The wands all moved to point at the scroll in the same way they would point at a bomb. 

“Those are plans for upcoming raids on your safe houses,” Theo explained. “Now you can be better prepared.”

The reaction was comical. At least, to Theo, it was.

Granger stared at the scrolls, her mouth agape. Ron and Ginny kept their wands pointed at it in a way that suggested they were convinced it was anything but a scroll. The twins backed away from it entirely. Dean Thomas stared not at the scroll, but at Mattheo specifically, confusion painting his expression. The unfamiliar Weasley with the scars on his face jumped away when Theo threw the scroll, and had not moved since. And the blonde looked like she wanted to approach it, but was too afraid to let her feet move. 

Granger was the first to speak.

“Why should we trust you?”

A draft filled the room.

“Trust us or don’t,” Mattheo quipped. “You’re losing. You’ve been losing. Pathetically. We’re guaranteeing you a win right now. Whether you decide to take that chance is up to you.”

The silence was deafening as the members of the Order all exchanged looks, looking absolutely flabbergasted by this turn of events. It was clear they were trying to have a conversation through their facial expressions. Every muscle in Theo’s body tensed as he waited for their reaction. 

This has to work, He thought to himself. 

This will work.

“What do you get out of this?”

Granger’s words hung in the hair, and though the question was for the both of them, her eyes were pointedly trained on Mattheo. When the two Death Eaters remained silent, she continued. 

“You’re betraying your families. Your fathers. What could you possibly have to gain, besides maybe a pardon from execution if we win?” She sneers. “And even that isn’t guaranteed.”

Visions of you lying in his bed, only covered by the duvet cover, overtook Theo’s head. He found himself wondering if you’d woken up yet. If you’d eaten. If you’d slept well. If you’d realised he’d left. The lump in his throat felt like a bolder when he swallowed it down. His fingertips burned with the feeling of your bare skin underneath them. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Theo sees Mattheo glance over at him. 

This is, after all, Theo’s doing. So it’s his question to answer. 

“Family isn’t everything,” Theo said in a low tone. “And some people are worth yielding for.”

~

Rise.

Fall.

Rise.

Fall.

It takes Theo a full half hour before he finally finds you in the manor. Here you are, curled up on the couch in the library with one of his robes covering you like a blanket. Your back faces him as your face is nuzzled against the fabric of the back of the couch. 

Deja vu hits him hard.

Instead of waking you, Theo sits on the ottoman beside you and counts the amount of breaths you take. At the moment, he’s up to about sixty since he started. It’s easier on his heart to sit in the silence, only filled with your quiet snores.

It’s easier for his heart to handle than what it knows he has to do. 

But he knows that he’s only prolonging the inevitable.

Letting out a deep sigh, Theo reaches over and places his hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you awake. 

“Hey,” He says in a low voice in an attempt to not startle you. “It’s me. Wake up.”

Your head springs upward, looking around at the back of the couch before you roll over to face Theo. The way your eyes light up at the sight of him makes his heart ache in a way he’ll never be able to describe. It’s like he misses you before you’ve even left. 

A soft yawn takes over your face for just a brief moment, and is quickly replaced with a tired smile.

“How’d it go?”

Theo bites down on the inside of his cheek so hard that he can taste blood.

I can’t do this.

I can’t do this.

You have to do this.

“Not great.”

The smile fades from your face. As quickly as your still waking up body allows, you sit up, rolling over to face him entirely. Theo sits up straight as you pause, watching as the wheels turn in your head to process what he had said.

“What happened?” Your voice is so small, and something about it gives Theo the impression that you already know where this conversation is about to go. He sighs heavily. The pain in his upper back makes it feel like he has the entire world on his shoulders.

“They wouldn’t return Malfoy to us,” He explains. In an effort to hide the shake in his voice, he speaks slowly. “They… they had specific conditions for his release.” 

The hush blanketing the room is only pacified by the pounding in Theo’s ears. 

If there is one thing about you that Theo knows deeply, it’s that you can’t keep your emotions off your face. So it’s to his great dismay that he watches your expression shift from confusion, to thoughtful, to realisation.

“They want me, don’t they?”

The words feel like a bullet each, piercing through Theo’s chest and implanting straight into his heart. 

I can’t bloody do this.

“Yes.”

Suddenly, the quiet that overtakes the room is less welcome as that one single word hangs over the two of you like a storm cloud threatening a downpour. The way Theo’s mind runs a million kilometers a second makes it so deafening. He can see the conflict on your face as you consider what needs to be done. The downward cast of your sleep stained eyes and the way you curl your lip in thought makes him want to burn the entire Order to the ground so he doesn’t have to even consider losing you.

He sucks in through his nose as the hand on his knee clenches tightly into a fist.

When your eyes drift back up to meet his, matching resolve in your expression, Theo has to swallow down the urge to cry. 

“When?”

His nails dig into his palm.

“Mattheo’s going to take you once you’re ready.”

A frown crosses over your face. 

“You're not going?” 

Theo can’t recall another time in his life where he’s felt as broken as he does now, looking into your sad stricken and confused eyes.

He’s losing you again.

He’s losing you again. 

“I can’t.” He swallows the lump in his throat that makes his words come out choked. “I… I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

He lets the rest of his thoughts remain left unsaid. That he would kill them before they could even leave the area with you. That he’d kill every last one of them for taking the only good thing he’d had during this god forsaken war. The entire reason he had broken his loyalties to the Dark Lord in an attempt to put it to an end. 

And now, he has to watch you leave him.

Again.

Anguish and surprise conflict your face, making him take your hand in his and hold it tightly.

“I’ll figure it out, okay?” The desperation in his voice is so palpable that you can feel it bleeding onto the skin of your fingertips. Theo’s eyes never leave yours. “I’ll finish this. For you. For us.”

You fill the spaces between his fingers with your own.

You haven’t even left yet, but Theo begins to dread the ghost of your touch that will be left behind once you are. It’s a feeling he knows too intimately.

“What if we lose?” You ask him in a soft whisper. “Or what if one of us doesn’t make it?”

The air leaves Theo’s lungs, evaporating from the heat of your words.

He wants to dig a bunker and hide you in it, keeping you far away from the sins of the war and the pain of ever leaving his side. He wants to blow up the world and watch from space with you on his arm. He wants to do anything, literally anything that would take away the hurt in your eyes. 

Images of the many ways he wishes to kill the Dark Lord and end this devastation flash through his mind.

“I need you to hear me when I say this,” Theo says in a slow tone. “I will do whatever it takes to ensure my return to you. Even if that means I have to blow through the gates of hell myself and crawl out of my grave. Make no bloody mistake. I will come back for you.”

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fanfiction #theo nott fanfiction #golden trio era #golden trio era fanfiction #.txt

[missetbilu]

KEEPING A CLOSE EYE*

perv!fred weasley x fem!reader, smut

when fred overhears you and the girls chit chatting about boys that you fancy, he can’t keep his mind from wandering, nor his hand.

warnings: perv concept, jerking off

"Come on, Y/N, there's gotta be someone you fancy." Ginny elbowed you, trying to get a response.

Angelina, Hermione, Ginny and yourself were in your favorite little spot in the library. A very secluded area, where you could study, sneak in some food, talk, without prying eyes or ears.

Although in that afternoon, you were not very much enjoying the topic of choice. Boys. Too shy to come clean about your little crush, you would much rather gossip or even focus on the charms essay due next week than engage in the conversation. But the girls were not having it.

"Yeah, even Hermione admitted to being completely, head over heels, in love with Ron." Angelina teased.

"Hey!" The girl blushed and looked away for a second, but curiosity got the best of her and she gave in to the argument. "She's right tho, you're the only one left."

"I just don't think of any guy here like that."

"In this castle full of boys, you expect me to believe not even a single one of them is your type?" Ginny said.

"Unless you're into girls."

"I'm not." You laughed at Angelina's curious expression. "I like men."

"Then name one you would" Hermione stopped herself mid sentence, suddenly a bit shy, "...you know."

"Fuck?" Angelina completed her thought and they all laughed, Hermione also shushing her and looking around to make sure they were alone.

"Alright." You took a deep breath and tried to sound as nonchalant as you possibly could. "I guess Fred is kind of cute."

"Aw dude, are you serious?" Ginny's disappointment was so clear in her face that the three other girls bursted out laughing.

"Shhh, guys, I don't wanna get kicked out." Hermioned said between giggles.

"Sorry, babe, but this was too good not to laugh at." Angelina responded, still chuckling.

"Too good? All my friends wanna fuck my brothers."

And you all fell into laughter again.

-

It had been a week since Fred discovered that spot of yours to hang out. Whenever you and the girls disappeared from his sight, he would get anxious, wondering where you might be.

Until the day he was looking for a potions book, but found something far better: you.

He managed to hide in the corridor next to the one where the group of girls would sit on the floor and chit chat. Usually he took no interest in the conversations you would have. But not that day. Throughout the whole week he listened to each silly subject the girls brought up, only paying attention to the sound of your angelic voice when you made a comment. That day it was different. Once the tables turned from homework to guys you fancied, Fred felt his heart skip a beat.

He was nervous, his palms becoming sweaty as each of the girls rambled about one boy after the other. He barely listened to the guys his sister brought up, nor to the mentions of his brothers. What mattered most to him was what you were going to say. He was so afraid of hearing another man's name fall out of your pretty lips; so afraid you would confess to feeling attracted to someone else.

But he was also infatuated with the possibility of his name being the one in your mind. You quietly listened to what your friends had to say, too scared to say something yourself, Fred saw that in your expression as he tried to eye your figure from the place where he was hiding. Just thinking about it, being him the person you kept yourself from mentioning, made his trousers feel a bit too tight. His hand travelled down to his growing bulge, but he didn't move it, he didn't want to risk not hearing you.

Your silence allowed his imagination to run wild. Maybe this whole thing got her thinking about how good I would fuck her, and she's afraid of sharing those filthy thoughts. He stroked his cock once, over the fabric of his clothes. Or perhaps she's so lost in the desire of getting filled up with my cum, she didn't even notice how quiet she's been... oh fuck... He did it again and had to hold back a moan.

Fred knew he shouldn’t, but it was as if he had no control over his actions. His hand slipped past his boxers and he stroked his dick, trying so hard to imagine it was you doing it.

Has she ever had a wet dream with me? He wondered. She would wake up sweaty and out of breath. Her panties are completely damp, but it's not because of the sweat, it's arousal. I bet she would be embarrassed, looking around the dorm to see if the other girls are sleeping, before she goes under the covers and... He gasps quietly, his hands going a bit faster now. And she lets her hand touch her dripping cunt... He bites his lip to stop himself from cursing. Her sweet fingers would tease her clit and she wouldn't be able to stop a moan of my name from coming out.

"Alright." When the word left your mouth he slowed down his movement, focusing on the head of his member. It was almost painful the way he teased his tip, trying to pay attention to what you were about to say. He even held his breath, that and the expectation making him even more sensitive. "I guess Fred is kind of cute."

Fred was really thankful for the loud laughter of the group that followed your confession, because the minute he heard your sugary voice saying his name, it was too much. He came in his hand with a low grunt.

He didn't listen to anything said after that. He didn't move or took his hand off of his trousers. He was in shock. As much as he wanted that outcome, it felt unreal now that it happened. He had imagined how you would sound saying you fancied him, what words you would choose and what exactly would be the look on your face. But none of it compared to the reality of it all.

You, such a perfect picture of beauty, intelligence, kindness. The most incredible, endearing and angelical woman he had ever set his eyes upon, out of all people, wanted him.

Fred waited until you all had left to pick himself up from his spot on the floor and attempt to use some spells and his robes to hide the stain in his pants. He did a good job, it wasn't too noticeable, but deep down he didn't care. There was something, or rather someone, much more important in his mind.

He stood in front of the corridor where you had been just a few minutes before. "I guess Fred is kind of cute." That played in his head over and over again, like a broken record. And Fred definitely didn't want to fix it.

#fifi-writes #harry potter smut #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #fred smut

[hoaxriot]

FOR THE FIRST TIME

pairings. sirius black x fem!reader

synopsis. years had passed and your daughter was at hogwarts. your husband was out and had not showed himself yet.

notes. this is part two coney island! i also put a name for the kid but you can imagine any other name or gender i just chose this so it would be easier to write. this follows the scenes of the movie in the shrieking shack. idk why i wrote most of the scene but i felt it was important and some things are a bit different.

it had been years since your friends were murdered by one of your best friends and your husband was put in askaban for it. of course, years since you had given birth to your only kid, your daughter— celeste. she had become your entire world after she was born.

you continued to live with remus after because you still needed that help and he was glad to do it. his dream became true and he had became uncle moony.

celeste’s first words were moony and he was thrilled about it, soon after she turned one you moved back home but he was still around. life had started to become better as celeste grew up, everything was okay again. you still missed your friends dearly but after celeste you knew you could not stay in bed all day, she made you happy.

when your daughter started to grow you knew she was a wizard which made you happy. time came around where she could finally understand that other families had a father around and she didn’t.

the right age, you sat her down and explained to her in the best way possible with remus to help.

then it was time for celeste to go to hogwarts and you to become a professor. ever since then, life had been better. your daughter was sorted into gryffindor and she had found herself friends, she was happy so you were too. of course, one of her friends were harry potter which made you happy but he had not know you even though his father was your best friend.

just days before now, you had learned the truth about who killed your friends and who was framed because of remus lupin. that’s how you found yourself running into the whomping willow like you had done multiple times before.

your daughter was in there, you knew of it. you watched as remus shoved the door open and yell a spell. you ran in behind him to see your husband, sirius black on the floor with remus pointing his wand at him. you looked up to see your daughter standing beside hermione with fear struck in her eyes.

moving your eyes back to your husband who was being pulled up by remus into a hug, “i found him!” you heard sirius say causing a frown to come upon your lips. sirius had not noticed you standing behind remus.

“let’s kill him.” sirius said pulling away from the hug, you still stood frozen behind remus. too in shock, your husband was in front of you while your kid was a few feet away from you. sirius was older just like you, he has a beard and he still wore his askaban clothing.

hermione started to yell at remus causing him to turn towards the girl, then sirius saw you. it didn’t feel real the way you stood in front him, you looked the same as you did the night he got taken away. sirius has waited for this moment since then, he saw you look towards the kids. confused he sees you meeting eye contact with one that looked like him and you. was that—

he got distracted by remus and his anger. remus told him to wait after he started to yell.

“i did my waiting! twelve years of it… in askaban!” sirius yelled in desperation causing tears to evade your eyesight and your daughter to flinch.

remus gave his wand to sirius, “very well, kill him. but wait one more minute. harry has the right to know why.” the potter boy started to yell at sirius and remus blaming him for the death of his parents. he had every right to, he didn’t know. then professor snape came in. harry then yelled a spell and he went flying. celeste scrambled back against the wall causing you to look at her in sadness, this must’ve been so confusing for her.

then somehow sirius got rons rat from him and turned him back to what he truly was, peter pettigrew. they dragged him from the hole in the wall, pushing him into the middle of the room. sirius grabbed your hand and pushed you behind him a bit.

of course, peter tried to play nice in some way but he was failing miserably. he also failed at trying to get his way. now you were walking behind the granger girl with your daughter as she held onto your hand tightly. she always thought she would run straight into her father’s arms but neither of you did.

once you climbed out of the whomping willow, sirius put ron down and celeste dragged you away.

“mom, why didn’t you hug dad?” she questioned letting go of your hand facing you, you smiled sweetly at her.

“i wanted to, badly. things were a bit difficult down there.” the both of you laughed lightly. your smiled dropped when you saw sirius making his way to the two of you. celeste noticed your expression and before she could say or do anything you took off in a jog to jump into sirius’s arms.

sirius caught you with a large smile as he wrapped his arms around your waist, clinging onto, all the years he missed with you. you still had the same vanilla smell to you, the same grip you always had on him when the two of you hugged.

there was just one thing different— the kid watching you, the kid who immediately ran into your arms and stayed with you until now. you could feel sirius lose his grip on your jacket, you knew what he was looking at so you pulled away still holding onto his arm.

“c’mere.” you said to him as you pulled his arm towards celeste, you felt her nervousness so you smiled at her.

“sirius, this is celeste,” you saw his smile grow at the name, he had brought the name up one time when you two were talking about kids, “celeste, this is sirius… your father, as you know.” you spoke looking at her, she was quiet which scared sirius until she threw herself into him, very hardly causing him to let out a small ‘hmph.’

nonetheless, he hugged her back. you smiled at the interaction. he then heard her start to cry, your smile dropped a bit but you knew she was just like you and cried at overwhelming times. sirius then brought his hand to her head rubbing it comfortingly. at that action, she gripped onto him harder.

sirius opened his eyes to see your eyes filled with tears, he laughed a bit also knowing how you were, crying when you were happy. celeste heard him and pulled away to see you as a tear fell down your cheek.

“mum!” she laughed at you making you gasp playfully, “don’t mum me, you’re crying too.” you spoke pointing at her tear covered face. she then copied your playful gasp.

“don’t mind me, i just met my dad.” celeste joked causing sirius to laugh, she had humor just like him which made him smile as he laughed. he moved to stand beside you wrapping his arm around your waist.

“let’s go home,” he whispered into your ear but then you were distracted by each other again when remus started to transform causing the moment to be ruined.

that night was only a few nights ago, but now you were sitting in the noble house of black on the floor around the coffee table playing a game with celeste and sirius.

games had become something you and celeste did every night she was home, sirius was more than glad to be apart of that.

he finally had what he has always wanted, you— his wife. a kid who loved him and who he loved, giving her a life he had never once had. he was free and happy.

#marauders #marauder era #sirius black #sirius black x female reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #james potter #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #sirius black x oc

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (see full series here)

1993

The school year draws to a close, with the school still chattering away about Sirius. You spend it relatively simply, teaching the last of your classes and then finally handing out end-of-year exam results. You're glad to see Hermione gets an almost perfect score — and Ron and Harry do...well, they do okay. You make a mental note to start buckling down on their incessant chatting during class.

You also spend it full of worries. Your every waking moment seems to be consumed with thoughts about Sirius. He's out there, all alone, on the run — you can't imagine how he's feeling right now. It ties knots in your stomach. You just want to grab and hold him, caress his soft, smooth skin, run your hands through his silky curls —

You miss him.

You sit in your compartment on the Hogwarts Express, flicking through the latest edition of The Quibbler. It's quite a unique little publication, very quirky. Luna Lovegood, one of your second years — her dad is the editor, so you decided to pick up the magazine after she recommended it to you once.

You're currently skim-reading a very in-depth article about some sort of creature called an 'epippinpor', when the door to your compartment slides open and Harry pokes his head inside.

"Harry!" you greet. "Need something?"

He holds out a folded piece of parchment, smiling. "Padfoot."

You take the parchment from him as he leaves, closing the door again. You beam excitedly, throwing down The Quibbler and pulling the parchment into your lap. Dubh gets up and starts to sniff the parchment curiously and you giggle, full of giddiness like you're a young teenager again.

My darling love,

I hope you get this before you've left Hogwarts, otherwise it may be quite some time before this letter reaches you. I decided to put your letter in with Harry's, because I'm sure your post is being monitored.

Buckbeak and I are in hiding, so you don't need to worry. I have so many questions to ask you, so many things to tell...I guess they'll just have to wait. I miss you, my love, just like you miss the stars during the daytime.

I hope I haven't lost my romantic flair.

Also, you're a professor now? Very professional, Professor Black. I suppose it does have a pretty sweet ring to it. And Astronomy, too? I'm still your favourite star, right?

You snort, rolling your eyes. Typical. You can just imagine his face when he wrote that: signature smirk, maybe a wink.

Can I get a kiss for that when we reunite again?

Typical!

I wish I could be with you this summer. At our home. Also...do you have a cat? I thought I saw you with a cat. Come on, love, we are obviously a dog home!

I miss you so much. I miss your voice, your warmth, your beautiful face, your kisses. Especially the last one. It's not easy to go twelve years without a single kiss...even if the Dementors offered me several. I love you with all of my heart. If you need me for anything, Harry's owl will find me. All my love, Sirius. P.S. I love you. I can't wait to see you again.

You smile at the letter, eyes tracing the edges of his scratchy handwriting. Your stomach is full of fluttering butterflies and it really does feel like you're a schoolgirl again. You re-read the letter several times, smiling especially wide when he says he loves you or compliments you.

No, Sirius. You didn't lose your romantic flair. Not one bit.

You reach out to pet Dubh, still holding the letter in your hand.

Maybe next year will be a little different.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"Here you go," you say, handing Remus his cup of tea. He accepts it, careful not to spill a drop, and gives you a grateful smile.

"Thanks."

"So, any news?" You ask, pulling your legs up onto the couch and folding them in beside you as you look at the man in front of you. You're sitting in your living room, a wonderfully cosy little room, warmed by soft rays of August sunshine. There's green plants dotted around, and the walls have photos and beautiful paintings decorating it. There's even a few of Remus' original paintings up there!

One big hobby of Remus' is painting, though he is very secretive about it. He paints beautiful landscapes and still-lifes...it calms him.

One particular painting catches your eye. You had once asked him to paint you a nice, simple picture of pottery. A jug, a bowl, a plate...just general pottery works. It's quite nice.

Remus shrugs. "Nothing really since last we spoke. How are your parents?"

You stayed with your parents last week. Dubh had been put into Remus' care, as she always is, and she always comes back a little fatter than before because Remus is a big softie.

"They're grand, yeah," you reply with a shrug. "I told them everything that happened and honestly they were pretty nonchalant about it all, you know how they are...Mam thought I was very stressed and made me one of her special herbal teas and honestly, it was amazing. Felt young again."

"You are young," Remus says with a sigh.

"Sure don't feel it," you say bitterly. "Could do with a dose of that special tea every morning."

"So this tea isn't special?" Remus asks, gesturing to the cup in his hand.

"Not at all," you reply with a short chuckle. "I asked her what she puts in it, and she said it was an 'age-old secret only passed down when the last generation has ceased and the next lives on'. She's lying, of course, she's only saying that to be mysterious. I'm beginning to think that it's just the placebo effect."

Remus nods thoughtfully. "I think I'm going to trust your mother's words and say it is an age-old secret."

"Suck up."

He raises his mug and gives you a mocking smile. You sigh.

"And," you continue, "Dad took me to the muggle cinema, and we seen this film called 'Mrs Doubtfire'. Moony, when I tell you I sobbed — Merlin, muggles sure know how to make an emotional impact. I'm beginning to think that truly, wizards aren't better than muggles because they get to have cool films and we don't. It's unfair, really, if you think about it."

"'Mrs Doubtfire'? What was it about?" Remus asks.

"A woman called Mrs Doubtfire, obviously," you say and he rolls his eyes. "But turns out it's not actually a woman, it's this guy whose wife divorced him and can barely see his kids, so he pretends to be their babysitter and puts on a wig and a mask and fake tits and everything — "

"And that made you cry?"

"It was emotional! Then he gets caught and can only see the kids with someone supervising the visits! Isn't that sad, Moony? It's much sadder in the movie."

He raises his eyebrows, humming in weak agreement. "Right."

You scoff, sighing. "Anyway...Quidditch World Cup is coming up! And guess who's going?"

"You? No way, how did you get tickets?" Remus asks in shock.

You grin. "Minerva McGonagall, the gem that she is! Sent me a letter yesterday morning. Said she happened upon two tickets and asked me to go with her."

"I didn't know the two of you were such good friends."

You shrug. "Sometimes it can be a bit odd because she used to be my teacher, y'know — but she's such fun to be around. I mean, I've told you before that we have tea together sometimes."

He nods thoughtfully. "Mhm, yes, I remember."

"Anyway, I'm really looking forward to it! I wish I could bring you with me," you say with a small apologetic smile.

Remus waves you off. "It's a full moon. I daresay I might steal the spotlight off the teams if I attend."

You laugh. "That may be so."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

sorry for the extra-short chapter...just wanted to draw this year to a close. Goblet of fire next!!!

as always, a big thank you to my taglist loves for all their amazing kindness and support:

@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @hyperspeedo @carpe000diem

#sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #angst #angst with a happy ending #harry potter #fanfiction #fanfic #the marauders #hp #marauders

[ginnympotter]

Prompt: Ginny breaks up with Harry then notices a girl flirting with him at the bar. The Wesley boys make a bet how long it will take Ginny to put her ego aside and snog Harry’s brains out.

Genuinely couldn't imagine Ginny breaking up with Harry so I slightly altered the prompt to a break lol

"Ten bucks on five minutes til she goes and interrupts what's happening over there," said Fred.

"Psh, more like thirty minutes," countered George. "Ginny's ego has more willpower than that. But just by a bit."

"What about my ego?" Ginny asked as she came up behind them, beer in hand.

"Don't look now, Gin," warned Fred. "But some girl is flirting with Harry by the bar."

Ginny hesitated before briefly looking out of the corner of her eye, just seeing a girl with long black hair laughing at something, Harry awkwardly laughing back.

She involuntarily scowled, which caused her brothers to laugh.

"Well, what right do you have to be mad about it?" asked George. "You broke up with him, didn't you?"

"I didn't break up with him. I merely...suggested a break."

"Same difference," George responded.

"Why'd you go ahead and do that?" asked Fred.

"Because," Ginny started, trying to keep her composure as she heard the girl laugh again. "We've been together since we were kids, I thought maybe...he deserved to see what else is out there? I don't know..."

"Well, he's seeing it alright," said George, nudging his head in their direction.

Ginny reluctantly turned to look, seeing the girl put her hand on Harry's chest. She started seeing red, her fists curling up.

Ginny chugged her beer, then handed the empty bottle to Fred, and marched straight towards them.

"Wow, not even one minute," she heard George say as she left. "Who wins the bet, then?"

She approached Harry and this mystery girl. "Harry," she said with urgency.

Harry looked at her, at first uncomfortable, then concerned.

"What's the matter?" he asked, moving towards her. Mystery girl seemed affronted.

"So sorry to interrupt," Ginny said, with no note of apology in her voice. "But, I need to borrow him real quick- got a bit of a family emergency. Ron called me- something about the baby-"

Harry put his drink down. "Sorry, Romilda, but I've got to run. It was nice meeting you."

Ginny grabbed his arm and moved them swiftly away. "Don't you want my number?" they heard her call out. Ginny was relieved to see that Harry did not seem interested in that offer at all.

They exited the bar and Harry immediately asked, "What is it? Is Rose okay? I really thought Ron would be able to watch her on his own with Hermione gone for work-"

"Harry," she said, stopping them by an alleyway. "They're fine."

"They...they are?" At Ginny's nod, he looked at her curiously. "Then why did you say there was an emergency?"

Ginny looked guilty, but she was never afraid to tell the truth. "I just... I needed to get you away from that woman."

To her surprise, Harry smiled at that. "Well, thanks. I needed to get away from her as well."

"Did you?" she asked, a challenge.

"Gin," he started. "You're the one who suggested-"

"I know I did," she said. "I was stupid. So, so, very stupid. I don't want you to see what else is out there."

"I don't either," Harry replied. "I shouldn't have even agreed to it. I should have fought harder for us."

"You don't have to fight hard," she told him, putting both her hands on his chest. "But I will, if i have to. Take me back?"

Harry smiled, closing the distance between them as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her towards him. "In a heartbeat."

Ginny smiled in return, feeling relief washing over her as she reached up and kissed Harry rather thoroughly. He ushered her against the wall, kissing her in return with equal enthusiasm. It felt like coming home.

Suddenly, they heard two wolf whistles, but they both knew exactly who they were coming from. Neither of them bothered to break away. Not now, or ever.

#hp #fanfic #hp fanfic #drabble #one shot #hinny #harry potter #ginny weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #muggle au

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 102

(commissioned from @elyonblackstar.art on Instagram)

This was originally chapter 100, hence the difference, but then it changed. This is still my favourite chapter.

Lyrics from "First Times" by Ed Sheeran, a song he wrote about his wife :)

Read on ao3 or Fanfiction.net.

---

Chapter 102

~~~

Ain’t it funny how the simplest things in life can make a man,

Little moments that pass us by

~~~

“Woah!” Ron’s jaw was on the floor and he couldn’t quite pick it back up again. Hermione had told him that tonight was black-tie style dress — which, in Muggle terms, meant really fancy clothes — but she’d not informed him that what she planned to wear to the event was a very elegant — very low-cut, he noted with a grin — black dress that he never would have pictured her ever wearing. She’d curled her hair, its usual bushiness gone, and she’d even put on makeup. She looked absolutely stunning and he found it difficult to take his eyes off her. 

Hermione smiled at his reaction, but a moment later, she looked down. “Is it too much?” she asked, suddenly sounding uncertain. “It’s not something I’d usually wear, but —”

“Absolutely not!” Ron said firmly. “You look great. No… that’s not the right word. You look so, so beautiful, and that’s saying something, because I really do think you look beautiful all the time.”

Her lips curved up into a smile, her cheeks tinging pink. 

“Though,” Ron said, a smile forming on his own face, “I do think it would look better off you. If you know what I mean.”

“I always know what you mean, Ron,” Hermione answered dismissively. “And one day, you’ll have to be careful of what you say around our daughter.” She stepped closer to him, taking Rose from his arms. She was looking very drowsy, the time nearing seven-thirty in the night.

This was going to be the hardest part for them. Rose was spending her first night away from them. Well, just a few hours, really. It had been Hermione’s idea, but he knew there was some regret in her decision to have her parents look after Rose while they enjoyed a night out together. 

It was their anniversary. Four years being married, and almost eight years together. It was a special night, Ron knew that, and he wanted to make the most of it.

“She’s good to go,” he said gently. He didn’t want to show his own hesitations about leaving Rose behind, because if he did, then Hermione would probably change her mind. They’d at first contemplated bringing her parents here, so at least Rose would be somewhere familiar. But, Ron had then reasoned that they could just pick her up on the way home. They were heading into London anyway. 

Now, though, he was pretty confident that he’d be bringing Hermione home before they did anything else, because they had very little time these days to be alone, especially when Rose slept in the same room as them. They’d had to get creative. 

Hermione nodded. “I guess we should go then.”

“Yep.” Ron guided her to the fireplace, his hand on her back, which — to his delight — showed a lot of skin. He grinned. 

“Stop smiling,” Hermione said, though she wasn’t facing him.

“How’d you know I was smiling?” Ron asked, dropping his hand. 

“Because I know you,” Hermione answered. “The moment I put a nice dress on, you’re all over me.”

“I’m always all over you.”

“I’m holding our daughter,” she reminded him, though there was amusement in her voice above anything else. “Once we drop her off at Mum and Dad’s, you have me all to yourself.”

“Alright,” Ron said. He picked up a handful of Floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace. “You go first.”

Hermione cast him a very amused look, but she did as he requested, her hand over Rose’s head to shield her from any ash. When she was gone, Ron followed, still grinning to himself. 

The other side was a very calm and peaceful atmosphere. Robert and Jane had known of their hesitation about leaving Rose, and so they were not showing what Ron could only imagine to be pure delight at having their granddaughter to themselves for a few hours. 

“Wow, Hermione, you’ve dressed up well,” Robert commented as Ron stepped out from the fireplace. He’d already cast anti-stain charms all over his suit, and he was pleased to see he’d performed it effectively. “As your dad, I am not sure I approve.”

“My husband approves,” Hermione said, smiling. 

Robert flashed an amused look Ron’s way, and Ron was very proud of himself at how well he hid just how much he approved. “I bet he does,” Robert muttered. 

Ron passed a bag full of Rose’s things to Jane.  

“And everything’s in there?” she asked, accepting it. 

“Yes. There’s three bottles,” Hermione said. “You hopefully will only need two, but there’s three just in case. She’ll probably sleep until about midnight, which is when we aim to get home.”

“So early?” Robert asked. 

“The show goes until eleven, so we’ll give ourselves an extra hour, just in case. We may even be back earlier.”

“Well, don’t hurry back,” Jane said. “The two of you haven’t had a night out in a long time, and it’s your anniversary. If you’ve packed an extra bottle for her, then you can probably stay out a little longer. When do we need to feed her again?”

“In about an hour,” Hermione said. “Then again when she wakes around midnight. And then… maybe again if we’re not back.”

Ron knew that wasn’t going to be the case. As much as he wanted to enjoy their night, he didn’t think they’d cope much longer than their allocated time away from their daughter. 

Jane smiled, her eyes on Rose. Her smile turned sympathetic when Hermione hesitated handing her over. 

“She’ll be well-loved here, Hermione,” Robert assured her. “You kids enjoy yourselves.”

Hermione kissed Rose’s cheek, and then with very heavy reluctance, she passed Rose over to her dad. “Bye, sweetheart,” she choked. “We’ll be back soon, I promise.”

Rose watched her, smiling. 

“See you, Rosie,” Ron said, stepping forward and tickling her under the chin. “You be good, alright?”

Rose gave him a smile, too, and before either of them could change their minds, he slid his hand into Hermione’s and led her to the door. There was a bus stop just down the road which led straight into the city. 

Ron closed the door behind them, wincing at the last sound they heard — Rose’s cries. 

“Oh,” Hermione said, pulling her hand away. “I feel so awful. She doesn’t understand. She probably thinks we’re abandoning her —”

Ron stepped toward her, a hand on each of her shoulders and kissed her. “She will be okay,” he said calmly. “Let’s enjoy our night together because we won’t get many of these moments. I want to celebrate being married to you.”

Rose could still be heard, even though they were standing out the front.

“Let’s go,” he said, taking Hermione’s hand again. “Before my resolve breaks and I go back in there again.”

Hermione seemed to appreciate his honesty. She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Let’s go,” she said. 

~~~

The first kiss, the first night, the first song that made you cry

~~~

Ron was certain he’d never set foot in such a fancy place again. This was something Hermione had organised, telling him she’d splurged considering this was the best year they’d had so far. They were attending dinner and a show — of what, Ron had no idea and didn’t really care about. He was just excited to be spending an evening with his wife, without them having to worry about a baby.

Though, worry they still did, even if neither of them mentioned it. Ron had set that rule on the bus ride over. He wanted tonight to be about them. Every other day of their lives was about Rose. 

The foyer was crowded with other couples, all dressed up like them. Hermione didn’t look out of place at all, though she was still the most beautiful. Ron couldn’t take his eyes off of her, or remove the smile from his face. People dressed in tuxedos came around offering free drinks, and Ron accepted a glass of wine, regretting it the moment he had the first sip. 

“You have it,” he said, choking down the bitter taste and handing it to Hermione.

“I can’t,” Hermione said. “I’m not comfortable drinking alcohol while breastfeeding.”

“Oh, right.” Ron looked around for a place to subtly dispose of the glass, but couldn’t find any. Everyone else was drinking slowly from their glasses. “I don’t know why I always think it’s going to be better the next time,” he told Hermione. “Goblin-made wine is much better.”

“Well, unfortunately they don’t sell that to Muggles,” Hermione replied. She smiled so brightly, and Ron’s heart swelled. 

“You are so bloody amazing, you know that right?” he said to her.

“That’s just because you like what I’m wearing.”

Ron chuckled. “I will freely admit that what you’re wearing is doing amazing things to me right now, but I really didn’t mean it like that. You know I love you no matter what you’re wearing. You know I love you.”

“I know.” Hermione stepped forward, her body pressing against his, arms around his neck and she kissed him. Her lips were so soft and tender and he was pleasantly reminded of their very first kiss and the thrill he’d felt at having her finally. It felt so long ago now, and so many kisses ago, but it would always remain his favourite.

He held her waist, ensuring she didn’t pull away too soon, but his hands slowly crept up her sides, reveling in the silky smoothness of her dress. He moved them to her back, feeling her exposed skin, but that was too much for him. He groaned, breaking the kiss before he got too carried away in a very public place. 

Hermione stepped back, seeming rather pleased with herself, and to his utter relief, an announcement sounded from somewhere that the doors were now open. 

Hermione dug into her small bag and pulled out two tickets. “Ready to go in?” she asked. 

“Please,” Ron replied, his voice strained. 

Hermione was laughing silently at him, he could tell, but she turned and walked toward the door, offering her hand for him to take. 

They were led to a beautiful table set for two, somewhere in the middle of the room. It was dark in there, but each table had a candle in the centre, creating a romantic atmosphere. 

Once seated, Ron immediately reached for Hermione’s hands. “Do you remember the first time you kissed me?” he asked. 

Hermione’s eyes widened at the sudden question, but she soon relaxed and nodded. “It’s hard to forget.”

“It’s hard to imagine just how far we’ve come since then,” Ron said. “All the things we’ve done together, all the things we’ve achieved… it all started there, didn’t it?”

Hermione gave a small smile. “I think it would have happened after that, if it didn’t then.”

Ron laughed quietly. “You’re probably right. I was quite in love with you at that point. I’m glad you made the first move, though.”

“Would you have? Made a move if I hadn’t, I mean?”

Ron paused before answering. This was something he’d thought about occasionally over the years. His answer always changed, but he nodded. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I think I eventually would have. It just would have been after I went through every possible scenario in my head to figure out what the best move would be and it may have taken me years to work it out.”

Hermione laughed. 

You find that funny?” Ron questioned, grinning at her. 

“Well… yeah,” she said. “Because aren’t I usually the one to run through every scenario in my head and you the one to act without thinking?”

“Which is why I’m glad you decided to do it that way for once,” Ron replied. 

Hermione smiled. “Tell me, have you thought about it? Did you reach a conclusion on what your preferred method of winning me over would have been? I’m curious.”

“Does it matter?” Ron asked. “It didn’t happen that way.”

“I want to know.”

“I dunno. How much would I have had to win you over?”

“You probably would have just had to have held my hand and I would have thrown myself at you.”

Ron returned her smile. “So, it wouldn’t have been all that different.”

“Tell me.”

“Alright, well, if it reached a point where nothing was happening with us and I felt I needed to make the move, I think I would have asked you out. While stammering over the question in sheer terror of what your answer might be.”

“You mean out on a date?”

“Yeah. You sound disappointed. It’s not as fun as throwing yourself at someone in the middle of the war, is it?”

“I think it’s a very Ron thing to do. I would have been flattered. And I, of course, would have said yes.”

“I like the way it happened better. I think back on that moment very fondly.”

Hermione’s eyes drifted to their entwined hands. She didn’t speak for a long time. Ron relished in the peacefulness, tuning out the chatter surrounding them and focusing solely on the woman next to him. 

“I think that was the moment I knew.” When she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper.

“Knew what?” Ron asked, though he could guess. He’d had the same feelings in the same moment. That kiss — their first kiss — had erased every doubt in his mind and he’d never been more certain of anything when she’d been in his arms. 

She looked up, a look of complete joy on her face. “That we’d end up here. Married. With a child. Just… happy. It just felt —”

“Right,” Ron finished. 

“I knew in that moment, that if we survived the war, then we weren’t going to look back, we weren’t going to question anything. I could feel it in you, too. You just knew as well.”

“I knew it without a doubt,” Ron confirmed. “Our friendship was over.”

Hermione laughed. “Yeah, we ruined that, didn’t we?”

“But I will admit,” Ron said, “I did have some doubts.”

Hermione looked at him curiously, so he hurried on to explain. “Not about you, not about… us… not really. They came around the time you said you wanted to have sex with me. That panicked me more than I let on.”

“I know,” Hermione said. “You were pretty nervous that night. But you lost those nerves pretty quickly, though, if I remember correctly. I recall you being on me pretty quickly again after that first time.”

“Ha! Yeah. Yeah, I was…” He paused, thoughtful, trying to figure out how to word what he wanted to say. “That just felt like the point of no going back for us. I worried that if we did that together, we’d find it was actually awkward moving from friends to lovers, but then being friends would feel awkward after being so intimate.” He looked up, noticing her amused expression. “That makes sense, right?”

“It does,” she assured him gently. She frowned slightly. “Can you believe I didn’t actually think about that? I never even contemplated that it might be awkward, or weird —”

“And it definitely wasn’t,” Ron assured her. “And once I realised that, then I never looked back. But… at the time, I just thought if it didn’t work out for whatever reason, then I’d lose you entirely — as my girlfriend, but also as my friend.”

By the look on Hermione’s face, it was obvious that she was only now just realising that what he said could have been a real possibility. Thankfully, it hadn’t worked out that way, but the thoughts hadn’t seemed to cross her mind until this very moment. She confirmed that by saying, “I’m so glad you’re only telling me this now.”

Ron laughed. “Yeah, well… my mind might have been telling me that, but the rest of me was pretty keen, so I wasn’t going to think too hard on it in the end. I knew that if I said anything, you would have taken the high road and said we should wait, and I didn’t want that either.” 

“Sounds like a confusing time for you,” Hermione said, amused.

“Oh, it was,” Ron assured her. “I both wanted to be with you in a sex way, and didn’t want to ruin anything between us.”

Hermione flashed another smile before her expression turned serious. “Ron, I do hope you know just how much I love you.”

“Of course I know.” He squeezed her hands in assurance. 

“No, but… I know I’m not always the best at expressing my feelings. You’re so open, and I’m just a little more guarded. I know sometimes it can come across to you — and maybe others — that my feelings for you don’t always match your feelings for me. That’s not true at all, you know that, right? I’m just not as good as expressing them openly like you are.”

Ron nodded, sensing she felt a little saddened by her confession. Though, he’d never thought he was great at expressing how he felt, he just had a terrible time at hiding it, too. “Yeah, I know that. And don’t worry about it, I have no filter. You know that. I say things without thinking. It’s a curse.”

“You’re my happy place, my safe place, my everything and I’m so very appreciative of it all. It just… I guess it overwhelms me a lot of the time, to feel so much for one person that it leaves me with no words to express it. But… I fell in love so young, and I just never fell out, and… I just love you, Ron. So much.”

Ron’s heart just about leapt out of his chest. “Please stop talking,” he begged. “Because if you don’t, well, I might just do something I shouldn’t do with so many people around. 

Hermione laughed. 

He leaned down to kiss her, deepening the kiss enough to let her know that he loved her, too, but not enough to draw attention to them. “And don’t forget,” he said, his lips near her ear, “you were the one to say you loved me first. I’ll never forget that.”

That had her cheeks turning red, her hands tightening around his. He extracted one hand and rested it on her knee. She melted at his touch, which pleased him. 

“It’s amazing to discover the things that have made me happiest in life,” he said to her. “Growing up, I wanted the glory. I wanted to be Quidditch captain, to be Head Boy, to… be an Auror. I wanted to be recognised. It was my dream.

“But, you know what I think of when someone asks me what my happiest memories are? The things I think of when I conjure a Patronus? Asking you to marry me, actually marrying you, the birth of our daughter. Those are the best moments of my life, my greatest achievements. I wish I could go back and tell my eleven year old self to not worry about all those things I worried about — to tell him that none of what you want is going to make you happy, but you’ll find happiness in the simpler things. That the best job in the world is being a dad to a little girl that you will love more than your own life itself. And that that girl you met on the train, the one that annoys the pants off you, that maybe you need to be nicer to her, because one day she is going to make you happier than winning any Quidditch Cup ever could.”

“Not that you’re going to fall hopelessly in love with that girl?” Hermione teased. 

“Eleven-year-old Ron wouldn’t have been able to handle such information,” Ron said. “He was far too immature for that.”

Hermione smiled. 

“But I do wish I could just tell myself that it’s the simple things that will end up making me the happiest. I wish someone had.”

Hermione laid her head on his shoulder. “And maybe if you’d known all that, we wouldn’t be here now.”

“No, maybe not. Not sure I would have believed it, to tell you the truth, though.”

The lights dimmed after that and all talking ceased. Ron moved his arm to fold around her waist, drawing her even closer to him. 

And somehow, as he sat there with her, he realised that his heart really did have the space to love her just that little bit more than he did yesterday.

~~~

The greatest thing that I have achieved

Is four little words, down on one knee

~~~

Ron felt at peace when the show ended. He’d enjoyed it, and the food had been delicious. And to his surprise, neither of them had mentioned Rose. They truly had enjoyed their time together, it being just the two of them. Rose was probably sound asleep in the small portable cot Hermione’s parents had gotten, happy to have some new people to play with. 

They left the theatre hand-in-hand, smiling. 

“I really enjoyed tonight,” Hermione said as they made their way down the street. 

“Me too,” Ron said. “Another moment to add to my bank of growing favourite memories.”

Hermione smiled. “I almost don’t want it to be over.”

“It’s not,” Ron said, and he stopped — the place deliberate — and turned to face her, grinning at her.

“I’m not sure I like that look on your face, Ron,” she said warily. 

“There’s one more memory I have from our life together. And I’m very fond of it.”

That didn’t abate Hermione’s wariness at all. It increased it, if anything.

“And what might that be?” she asked.

Ron’s grin broadened and he nodded to his right. Hermione turned her head, both of them now staring down a dark alley. 

Hermione frowned. “It’s a rubbish alley,” she said. 

“It’s not a rubbish alley. It’s an alley, and I have very fond memories of you pulling me into one once.”

“Oh, Ron,” Hermione said, finally catching on. “We don’t… we’re a lot older now. I’m not as… well, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

But she didn’t protest too hard when Ron tugged on her hand and pulled her into it. The benefit this time, was it was dark and no one would see them, even if they walked past. 

He backed her up against the wall, enclosed in the dark entirely, and by the time he brought his mouth to hers, she was kissing him back. She flung her arms around his neck, forcing his body against hers. 

This was going to be the last time in many more months before they got to be so close for such a long time again, and he wanted to savour every moment with her. But he also wanted to tear that dress from her body, because as good as it looked on her, he knew it looked better on the floor. 

He settled for dropping one strap down her arm, just to see how far he could get with her before she stopped him. He trailed his lips along her jaw, down her neck and to her shoulder. She, surprisingly, held him tighter, allowing him to kiss her. 

So, he tried the other strap, and kissed her there, too. He did that for a long while before her hands slid away from his neck and he thought that this was it. As much as she was enjoying it, the knowledge that there were people nearby had gotten to her and she didn’t want to go further. 

But her hands didn’t push him away. They moved to his waist, and then to the belt buckle of his suit pants. He slid the straps of her dress down further, fingers trailing her skin. 

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured against her neck. “Merlin, I’ve missed you.” He pressed against her, suddenly even more desperate than he’d been before. 

He was surprised just how far she was taking this. She’d managed to get his buckle open, though she didn’t go any further than that, instead allowing him to kiss every part of her exposed skin. 

After a while, he reached behind her, feeling for the zip of her dress, and finally, he felt the hands that he’d expected long ago, push him away. 

“Stop, Ron,” she said, her voice filled with apologies. 

He dropped his hands, pressing his forehead against hers. 

“I thought I could do it, but —”

“Let’s go home,” he said gently. 

She nodded, and he held her tightly, reaching with one hand to take out his wand. He Apparated them both home, where Hermione was much more willing to allow him to unzip her dress and have it fall to the floor. 

~~~

The first look in your eyes when I said, "I love you.”

~~~

It was well after midnight, nearing one, when they Floo’d back to Hermione’s parents’ place. Both of them were awake, the lights in the living room on and the television going at a low level. 

Both looked surprised to see them come through the fireplace rather than the door. 

“Didn’t get the bus back?” Robert asked with a knowing look. He then looked them over. “That’s not what you were wearing when you left.” They’d changed into something more comfortable after they’d pulled themselves out of bed. 

Hermione flushed, but didn’t bother giving a response. 

Ron grinned. 

“How was she?” Hermione then asked, changing the subject quickly. 

“Oh, perfect,” Jane said. “Cried a little after you left, but she settled pretty quickly and was all smiles after that.” She smiled herself, as if reliving a very fond memory. “We had no issues getting her to sleep. Was out like a light after we gave her a bottle, changed her… oh, she was a delight.”

“That’s our Rosie,” Ron said proudly, noticing the smile forming on Hermione’s lips too. She’d done a lot of smiling tonight as they remembered how they’d reached this moment, the best part of their lives, but it never got old. 

“Did you two have fun?” Jane then asked. “How was the show?”

“Tonight was amazing,” Hermione answered. “The show was great, but it was just nice to actually spend some quality time together. We did a lot of reflecting, thinking back to the moment that got us here. It was lovely.”

Ron nudged Hermione affectionately, and her eyes glistened with love. 

“Where is she?” Ron then said. “I’ll go and get her.”

“We put her in the spare room upstairs,” Jane said. “We fed her at midnight, and she went straight back down.”

While Hermione began to explain to her parents about the show, which really had been the least thrilling part of their night, but the safest one to talk to her parents about, Ron went to get Rose. He entered the room quietly, smiling at the sound of her even breathing. 

He bent down to pick her up, begging her to stay asleep. She did, her only sign of disturbance being a grunt.

He carried her back downstairs, treasuring her tiny body against his, so warm and fragile and perfect.

Hermione smiled at him and then she came over to peer at Rose.

“Thank you,” she said to her parents. “We really appreciate it.”

“Our absolute pleasure,” Jane said. “She was a delight.”

Hermione smiled again and then, with Ron still holding Rose close to him, she set up the Floo connection. 

Ron indicated that she should go first, that he was okay to follow. 

She obliged. For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the space she’d been a moment ago. And then Rose stirred against him and he was reminded again of just how simple his life was now, and that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~

I can't wait to see everything that's yet to be

Our first child, and then a million more first times

~~~

#romione #hermione and ron #ron and hermione #ron weasley #ron and hermione fanfiction #hermione granger #harry potter fanfiction #hermione and ron fanfiction #romione fanfiction #harry potter

[the-halloween-jack]

One Little Difference ➳ Draco Malfoy x Gryffindor!Pureblood!Reader

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader x Harry Potter  

Synopsis: Draco and Y/N had been friends as children; their families were of high status, and it looked like they would spend the rest of their lives together. But all of this changed when Y/N was sorted into Gryffindor and became estranged. Worst of all, she fraternised with the enemy. 

WARNINGS: There aren't any unless you consider silent pining bad. And angst, of course.

Words:  1,475

Masterlist

Draco knew he could never have her; his family would never allow it. Y/N was a blood traitor with her mud-blood friends and a lack of respect for her pure ancestry.

He yearned to return to the days of chasing each other through the old ornate manor, their laughter echoing through the tall chambers. They had always been close, attached at the hip. But as they grew and their parents bestowed their prejudice and hate upon them, Y/N rebelled whilst Draco conformed. 

This difference acted as the catalyst for the decay of their friendship.

She had never seen the world like they did; she gazed upon muggles and their innovations in wonder and awe. Draco tried pleading with her to understand the importance of her status but to no avail. Y/N was an embarrassment to her family’s name and a stain on their bloodline. It came as no surprise to anyone when she was sorted into Gryffindor. 

‘It’s better this way, Draco.' His father, Lucius, had said over an issue of The Daily Prophet one morning of his summer holidays, 

‘Her family, your mother and I had been discussing an arranged marriage once you were older. It is good Y/N's true colours were revealed before we could have made that mistake.’

Draco’s heart had sunk at his father’s words. Her true colours did not matter to him; he wanted her anyway.

As Draco sat alone in a compartment of the Hogwarts Express, he thought of how his life would be different if that wretched sorting hat had placed Y/N in Slytherin. He would not have to hide his reddening cheeks when she spoke and avert his eyes as she looked his way. He would be free to love and be with her, have children and grow old with her. 

It had been the longest Draco had gone without seeing her. In the last few years, domestic life had not been easy on Y/N; her parents finally kicked her out early in the summer. From what he had heard, she had stayed at the Weasley’s. He bet she had hated imposing herself on them. 

That was the worst part about her being in Gryffindor; in their first year, she very quickly became friends with people Draco considered his enemies: Harry, Ron and Hermione. There were many reasons why Draco did not like these three, though he was too proud to admit that the main reason was that he was bitter; they got to be her friend, to know and love her without pressure from their families. 

When he gazed out the window of the immobile train, he saw something that made his stomach contort in pain as though an unseen force was twisting his insides.

Her hands were intertwined with someone he hated more than anybody.

Harry Potter.

When had this happened? He thought they were only friends. Though the longer he watched them, the more the opposite seemed true. 

They were together; Harry and Y/N were in a relationship. 

As the aftershock of the pain he felt echoed hollowly in his stomach, he drew the blinds of the compartment shut; he could not bear to watch them any longer. But shutting them out had not been as easy as Draco had foreseen. Everywhere he looked, he saw her with him. In every corner of the castle, they stood, smiling at each other, holding hands and leaving small kisses on each other's cheeks. Draco saw them sit together in his classes, staring into each other's eyes in the great hall over meals. And though Draco tried not to let it bother him, he could not help but imagine himself in Harry’s place; she was supposed to be his.

It had been years since Draco could call Y/N his friend, and although he pined for her from a distance, he accepted that they were estranged. But the reality of her loving someone else rattled him to his core, and just like a spoiled child whose toy was being played with by another, he wanted her back, to snatch her from Harry’s arms and never return her. 

He needed to speak with her, beg her to see reason. Surely, all those days of laughter and fun as children would amount to something; surely, she would remember the person he used to be. 

He decided to speak with her after charms class; he noticed she was usually alone then, her friends heading to different lessons.

As Professor Flitwick called the end of their class, Draco watched as Y/N quickly collected her things and exited the classroom; he had to rush to put his belongings together and follow her. 

But by the time he left the room, she was halfway down the grand hallway. 

‘Y/N! Wait up!’ Draco could not remember the last time he spoke her name out loud; it felt strange on his tongue, as though it shocked him on its way out. She turned, skin creased between her brows, her face donning a bewildered expression. She, too, seemed shocked that he had called out for her,

‘Y/N, I need to speak with you; it’s important’ he pleaded,

With surprise still evident on her face, she opened her mouth to speak,

‘Draco, I don’t have the time, my next class is in ten…’ He grabbed her elbow and began pulling her to an empty classroom; despite her protest,

‘Draco… What are you…’ she trailed off, instead staring at him, eyebrows furrowed once more. Draco stood back and nervously scratched the nape of his neck, realising for the first time that he had no idea what he was going to say,

‘What is this about? I thought you didn’t talk to me anymore.’ 

Draco cringed, remembering how he had given her the cold shoulder in their first year. She had still wanted to be his friend, and he had pushed her away.

‘Look, I’ve noticed you’ve been a lot closer with Harry this year…’ Y/N's eyes sharpened, daring him to say more, 

‘And?…’ she spoke carefully, with a warning; she already knew where this was headed,

‘I just think that… that,’ his words cut short; he knew he was out of line and had no right to have an opinion on the matter. He took a different route.

‘I just can’t believe you chose to be friends with him, let alone partners; you could have picked anyone in this school, and you chose him.’ His words made Y/N gasp in shock, but he continued nonetheless, 

‘Did our friendship mean nothing to you? Did the fact I loved you mean nothing?’ 

Although Y/N looked angry, her eyes softened slightly,

‘Draco, did you ever stop for one moment and consider that this has nothing to do with you? You and I are not friends, Draco. You saw to that… I loved you once too, no, I loved a kind, sweet boy by the same name… but he died a long time ago, quelled by his very own father.’ Y/N's voice rose and trembled; Draco could see that talking about this upset her; once again, he felt the twisting pain in his chest. 

‘None of this would have happened, though, if you were sorted into Slytherin…’

He continued, but Y/N interrupted, 

‘But I wasn’t, was I? Don’t you see that our houses have nothing to do with this? You’re hiding behind them; you’re too scared to admit that we grew apart because you were a bad person.’ She took a deep breath,

‘Good people don’t bully and belittle first years and think people are lesser because of who their parents are. Good people don’t bully anyone; they’re kind and compassionate. And they’re selfless; not everything that they do is for themselves. And that is not who you are anymore.’

Draco could no longer see Y/N before him; she became shrouded by his tears, the truth of her words leaving him feeling winded, like blows to the stomach. Everything she had said was true. Of course it was; she had just unknowingly described herself. 

Kind, compassionate, selfless.

Y/N was a good person; she was the best person in his life. 

And he pushed her away because of one little difference.

As Draco stood in silence, unwilling to respond, Y/N’s frustration grew, 

‘You know what? Forget I said anything; you won’t change.’ She muttered, ‘I need to get to class.’

She pushed past him to get through the door, looking back as though she were going to speak again, but decided against it. She shook her head and left.

Draco did not try to speak with her again; he knew nothing he could say would change her mind because she was right. He was a bad person, and she deserved better than him. 

That is what she had with Harry Potter.

And as much as it killed him to watch, he could admit that.

#draco malfoy #harry potter #slytherin #gryffindor #pureblood #draco x reader #draco fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #x reader #hogwarts #witch #wizard #malfoy x reader

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Do you think Harry is handsome?

Let's answer this question properly so people can finally stop talking about this.

Technically, there's a quote from Rowling that says that James, while not as handsome as Sirius, is good-looking. Harry looks like James, so that should solve it.

This is not really about remembering what's written in the books (something JKR clearly doesn't know how to do) so we could even take that statement and be done with it.

But fuck JKR.

Let's start with James.

It's said that Sirius and James could have been mistaken for brothers. Obviously, while this is a reference to how close they were, it must also mean they looked kind of alike. After all, they were two tall white English posh boys with black hair. But Sirius is supposed to be incredibly handsome so I highly doubt you could mistake someone that is not conventionally good-looking for his brother.

You could add that the kind of arrogance James displays is very difficult to have if you are not somewhat good-looking. James is also very popular, and as good as the guy can be at Quidditch, he is a massive nerd, so to achieve the super-popular status he must have been good-looking.

When Lily shouts at him about messing up his hair, her accusation is that he is doing it to look cooler, never heard of someone that looks cooler by being less good-looking. His hypothetically looking like an idiot for doing it doesn't seem to align with his being popular and also, the guy has friends, and one of those friends is Sirius, if it made him look like an idiot he would know.

This could already settle the issue, but let's talk about Harry.

Harry starts the story as this short underfed thing but he changes during the story.

Between fourth and fifth year, he has his first growth spurt. He seems to have another between fifth and sixth year.

In the fifth book, Pansy substantially calls Harry ugly while he is on a date with Cho. Now, I'm sure she was exaggerating but he mustn't have looked like a model for her to be able to say that. What is also true is that Harry has gone through a growth spurt while being starved and hyper-stressed and with what? Four hours of sleep each night? He mustn't have looked at his best.

In fourth year, Cho, who is a year older, barely knows him (which means personality is not a factor), and is dating Cedric, a supposedly handsome guy, seems to kind of like him. She doesn't find him ugly for sure. Harry here is still pretty short so I imagine he must have a quite decent facial structure. To be fair, considering Cho's behaviour with the whole date/post-article mess, one could argue that maybe she just had a bit of a popularity fetish. This is up to everyone's personal interpretation I suppose.

At the start of sixth year, Hermione tells Harry that one of the reasons why girls like him is that he got taller, but it's just a way to say they find him good-looking. He wasn't short the year before, and sure now there's the difference that they don't think he is completely nuts, but the implication is very clear. If you think about it, it's pretty reasonable, this is probably the first time in Harry's life he looks healthy, surely the first time since he got tall. He spent nearly all summer at the Burrow being properly fed, playing Quidditch under the sun, and falling in love which is always good for the skin (I'm completely serious, it's a hormones thing).

After the war, Harry becomes an Auror, so he definitely is very much in shape. And we have already established he has a good facial structure, he's tall, and his messy hair is recognised as attractive. And, I mean, the combination of black hair and green eyes must not be horrible.

At last, let's talk about something I'm sure no one cares about besides me. Harry and Ginny's stories are built in parallel because they are meant to be equals. They are both popular, they are both charismatic, and they are both famous. Ginny is meant to be this undisputably beautiful girl, so undeniably beautiful that not even the people who hate her can deny it. If Harry isn't, not necessarily as good-looking but still conventionally good-looking, the structure gets ruined.

So, yeah, Harry is handsome. Not Sirius handsome, but handsome.

[If someone writes me that attractiveness is subjective I swear to God, I'm blocking them. We are talking about conventional beauty here. And, yes, knowing if a character is or is not conventionally good-looking is pretty important to be able to write them correctly]

#harry potter

[greenerteacups]

Since you're in the midst of writing what will surely be The Ultimate Gryffindor!Draco fic seems only fair to ask: what are your thoughts about Slytherin!Hermione?

I really love the concept. I think Hermione is one of those characters who's multifaceted enough to succeed in any house, because she's so dynamic and rich. Her ambition makes it easy to envision why Slytherin would (or should want her) — I would say better Slytherin than Ravenclaw (as is often the alt-sort for her, if not Gryffindor) because her love of knowledge is very goal-oriented, and she seems to get really irritated with the kind of abstract theorizing and musing that Ravenclaws do. (Consider how mad pissed she gets whenever Luna starts doing Luna Things, for instance.) If it weren't for the blood purity problem, I would say that she would do pretty well in Slytherin — of course, that's going by personality alone, and neglecting the way that Houses both take into account history, culture, preference, and eventually come to shape those inside them. When you take those things into account, the case is harder to make, because one has to imagine a situation where (a) the blood thing doesn't matter, which is possible but unlikely, and (b) Hermione as she is in first year would willingly be sorted into the House that's known for producing Dark Wizards at worst and uncomfortably cutthroat types at best (I'm not even going to touch the whole "Merlin was a Slytherin" thing, because the timeline on that does not fucking work and jesus God I cannot deal with it.) That's not to say all Slytherins are bad; rather, it's to say that part of the reason most Slytherins are heritage and legacy picks is because the only first years who are willing and eager to join it are disproportionately from certain families. The composition is probably one part selection bias and one part actual bigotry.

Plus: Hermione is an idealist. Especially in her younger years, she cares desperately about the rules and doing things The Right Way, even when it hurts her or her friends. Her ambition is there, of course, and it really blossoms in later books. But it's ambition directed at progress and idealistic achievement, not personal betterment or power. Remember that in Book 7, it's Hermione who chooses the Cloak, the humblest Hallow, not the Wand or the Stone, which are Ron and Harry, respectively — perhaps suggesting that Ron, not Hermione, is the most Slytherin of the group. And Hermione doesn't want to go after the Hallows in the first place; the idea of mastering death doesn't appeal to her. She doesn't want to rule the world, she wants to save it.

Put differently, do I think our Hermione has a lot of the virtues and vices that Slytherin represents? Absolutely. Super does. Could be a great Slytherin, and if you gave her seven years to cook, I think you'd have a banner Slytherin at the end of it. I think some stories explore that premise fantastically well, especially in the context of re-sortings, which tend to take seriously the role of House in shaping character instead of merely reflecting it. But do I think that an eleven-year-old Hermione, as we know her from canon, would ever get sorted into Slytherin House? I mean... it's about as likely as Draco getting sorted into Gryffindor, isn't it?

#;) #hermione granger

[lunatheseus]

harry potter (canon) couples that I could get behind + commentary

Hermione Granger x Harry Potter: Idk… I can kinda get behind this- they should relate to each other when it comes to the wizarding world. Because they were both raised by muggles, it must’ve been hard to figure out the magical world right off the bat. They also trust each other a ton. (Way more than Ron did, anyway) When Hermione brings Umbridge to the forest to trick her, Harry at first doesn’t know what she’s about to do, but he trusts her. They’re also not jealous of each other, whether it comes to romantic interest or just their capabilities in something. Hermione didn’t care that Harry was the Chosen one, and Harry didn’t care that Hermione topped him in every class.

Hermione Granger x Draco Malfoy: Popular, maybe basic opinion, but these two are the perfect balance of opposites and likes. They are both opposites when it comes to the obvious: Hogwarts houses, blood status, athletics, etc. But they both have many things in common: heavy expectations, being at the top of each class, and other more deep-rooted ideologies. This would give them both something to learn, but also something to relate to. In addition, after the war, Draco could improve his reputation by helping all of the causes and organizations that Hermione started over the years. He has a ton of money, why not donate some? I also think they could be adorable together, Draco spoiling Hermione, Hermione exposing Draco to muggle culture.

Luna Lovegood x Draco Malfoy: Besides the similar white-blonde hair and the same blood status, these two could not be more different. However, it can be a good thing. While Luna can teach Draco about leading life with love and a bit more imagination (like how she was brought up), and Draco can hold Luna to the real world and teach her about the more traditional way of life. On top of that, after the war, Luna doesn't seem like the person to care about Draco's ruined reputation. She would help him get over caring too much about what other people think and instead enjoy life more often. I feel that her forgiving nature would help Draco lead a better life. (Besides, his parents can't possibly be THAT opposed, she's a pureblood, after all)

Theodore Nott x Hermione Granger: Similar reasoning as to the Hermione x Draco ship reasoning, but also remembering that Theo and Hermione don't have as much history, which could be both bad and/or good, that's up to interpretation. I also love that Hermione used a time turner in her younger years, and Theo gets in trouble for being involved in handling illegal magical goods, ie a time turner.

Draco Malfoy x Theodore Nott: With both of their father's being servants of Voldemort, the two supposedly bonded, finding solace in each other. They both also survive the war, so helping each other through hardships would be a critical piece of the story because of how much they relate to and understand when it comes to one another. I also love how Theo was never really in Draco's "Gang" which makes me believe that he has his own independent mind, which is always important.

Luna Lovegood x Theodore Nott: Sunshine x Grumpy? Both see Thestrals? Like the Luna x Draco reasoning, they can learn lots from each other, + ignore the society's views on them because they both don't care.

Luna Lovegood x Neville Longbottom: Ok EVEN THOUGH Luna Lovegood x Rolf Scamander is the most genius idea that JK Rowling has had in her entire career, this could work. The fact that both passionate about their own respective interests makes conversation and life very unique. They're both also good listeners, which makes open communication very effective. Luna could teach Neville to ignore the haters, and Neville is a good anchor for Luna.

Pansy Parkinson x Neville Longbottom: I think that Pansy x Neville isn't such a bad idea. They're kind of opposites, but I love the idea that Neville gives so-called ice-queen-Pansy a safe space to be herself, to be a soft and warm. On the flipside, I think Pansy could teach Neville a thing or two about not being a pushover, and maybe even adding a little snark to conversations.

Pansy Parkinson x Harry Potter: I feel like this would work really well. Honestly though, Pansy would wear the pants in this relationship hands down. I feel like they would have a ton of chemistry... and they would learn a lot from each other. Pansy would humble Harry, Harry would humble Pansy. Simple.

Draco Malfoy x Ginny Weasley: Both Quidditch Fanatics? Both have passionate and fiery personalities? Both have unusually coloured hair? Enemies to Lovers? HMMMM?

Blaise Zabini x Ginny Weasley: Both fit as heck, both very sassy and witty. They'd charm the pants off of each other, both figuratively and literally... they'd have fun. I'd say this is better than Ginny x Draco

Astoria Greengrass x Theodore Nott: idk why but this just works

Theodore Nott x Harry Potter: again, idk why but this would work too

Chicken x Ron Weasley: Whoever did this is an effing genius: Chickron | Shipping Wiki | Fandom

#harry potter #harry potter ships #dramione #hermione x draco #draco and hermione #lovenott #theo x luna #theodore nott #luna lovegood #draco malfoy #nottpott #blinny #pansy x neville #pansy parkinson #neville x luna #neville x pansy #drarry #harry x draco #hp #hp fandom #hp fanfic #hp marauders #hermione granger #hp ships #harry x pansy #ships #fandom ships #harry potter hogwarts game #harry potter rant #rant post

[whinlatter]

Hello, I was hoping you could provide some of your brilliant insight to this ask: How many people knew about the horcruxes in the end? Dumbledore told Harry not to tell anyone, but Harry kind of announced it during his battle with Voldemort, and everyone knew he sacrificed himself. Hagrid witnessed it, and so did the DE. I’m sure this started rumours about how the Potter boy cannot be killed by the AK curse. Hagrid must have wanted answers too, because watching Harry sacrifice himself and then come back alive after he watched the AK curse kill him would have been detrimental. So besides Ron and Hermione, who else knew about the Horcruxes and the reason Harry sacrificed himself? Did the Order know? Did he tell the DA? Did he tell Ginny?

Damn, I wish I had brilliant insight - alas, all I have is a pathological inability to stop running my mouth and a crippling hyperfixation. To that end... loved this question, so thoughts about whether or not Harry ran his mouth about the Horcruxes after the war (and to whom) below the cut!

This is such an interesting question and one I think about alllll the time and am desperate to have a stab at writing about at some point (like everyone, lol). On Horcruxes - I think Harry (and the trio, to a lesser extent) would feel less beholden to Dumbledore's instruction not to tell anyone after Voldemort has gone. I think it would be more a case of the trio trying to decide how much is safe for the public at large to know, in case they embolden lesser, weaker copycats. (There's that great conversation between Harry and Hermione in chapter one of Castles by @pebblysand about the Harry/Voldemort showdown honestly makes me laugh every time - Hermione basically being like, why did you have to publicly confirm the existence of an Elder Wand? Just how dumb are you? Harry like sorry it was obviously improv???)

I imagine Harry will tell the public a small amount (a much simpler story that does broad outline, light on detail, the focus of which is exonerating Snape and rehabilitating Dumbledore). I think he tells the Order and the DA - so all of those loyal to him who both deserve information and who witnessed the Harry/Voldemort conversation - a much fuller but still incomplete story in a private address at the Burrow where the trio share it between them and their comrades can ask questions. I think this version would cover Dumbledore's plan, the Horcruxes, details about the Horcrux hunt, the context of the Elder Wand, the Snape story, the Regulus arc, etc. I like to think Ron would choose to tell his family what really happened that last Christmas during this session (though Harry and Hermione would insist he doesn't need to), and talks about how and why he messed up in a way that shows how far he's come (and also lets Bill off the hook for snubbing his mother's Christmas in the middle of a war lmao). I think this conversation wouldn't cover the Hallows and that Harry would decline to talk in to much detail about what happened in the Forest, which I think all three of the trio would agree was both too personal and too dangerous (given the Stone) to share, especially to a room of grief-stricken friends and family who may well be drawn to an object that allows them to reach out to the dead.

I do think, though, that he tells Ginny everything. I don't think he'd ask permission from Ron and Hermione, per se, but he'd give them the heads up that he intends to let one more person in on this secret between them and Dumbledore. I think Ginny gets the whole truth: Horcruxes, Hallows, what happened in the Forest - and I think he tells her over the course of that summer. Canonically, that's his intent and priority at the end of the series: she deserves to know, and he needs her to know. The would he tell her question for me is less tricky to think about than the how. These would be very difficult conversations: I actually think they'd be unbearable for Ginny to hear, in many many different ways: what happened in the Forest, of course, but also just how horrific it would be for her to discover a part of Riddle's soul, the same thing that was in the Diary, was living inside the person she loves the whole time. (I think a lot about that OotP 'lucky you' scene. What's crazy about that scene in retrospect is that Harry comes out of it reassured by Ginny that he isn't being possessed - but of course, the truth is neither of them should be reassured. Harry feels better thinking this is different to what happened to Ginny, but actually their experiences have more in common than they realise (though are still ofc distinct): Harry's got a bit of Voldemort's soul in him, the same thing that controlled and terrorised little Gin. It's a classic example of the series' many ironies: characters coming so close to the truth but getting it (understandably but terribly) wrong. Even the thought of living alongside the locket at Grimmauld in the OotP summer - I think Ginny would find the thought of that, in retrospect, absolutely sickening).

All this is to say: I think the trio deliberately cultivate public silence over certain very volatile aspects of the Horcrux/Hallows story (in ways that probably does incur a certain degree of public speculation and resentment). But I think Gin gets the whole picture. I can't imagine Harry ever wanting to keep it from her (or even managing to - the man let slip their plan at the dinner table in DH. He's not keeping secrets from that girl. Man canonically sees those big brown eyes and starts running his damn mouth)

PS. Obsessed with the idea of rumours that AK can't kill Harry. I'm sure it would be in his professional interest when hunting the last of the Death Eaters to keep that particular myth going lol. Avada Kedavra? Can't kill me, mate. Good luck to ya

#myrtle is lowkey kind of a mood #horcruxes #meta #hinny #thank you anon i loved thinking about this #ask #also if i haven't answered your ask yet SORRY #forgive me #am trying to get through em #but if i don't answer it's either because i don't have tons to say and/or don't want to give away beasts spoilers if that's ok!

[dramioneasks]

Hey!! Really grateful for all the work y'all do around here. Lifesavers, honestly.

I'm looking for fics with the 'Voldemort died but the death eaters lived on' premise. I've already read The Pretense by Colubrina, and the theme of Draco helping Hermione act as a spy and what not, it was all just so interesting. So yeah, fics similar to The Pretense or maybe just the 'Voldemort died but the death eaters rule didn't end' kinda fic?

Thank you sooo much!

Aurelian by BittyBlueEyes - T, 43 chapters - Two years after the war, a young stranger pays a visit to the burrow. His arrival alone is baffling, but the news he brings of an upcoming war turns the world upside down. Hermione’s quiet, post-war life will never be the same.

The Best of Me - mrsren - M, 27 chapters - Officially, Hermione Granger was killed in action during the Battle of Hogwarts. Unofficially, Draco Malfoy has never stopped searching for her. Years after the war during a mission in France, his salvation comes in the form of a little blond boy and a familiar half-Kneazle.

The Art of Ascension by GinnyFics21 - E, WIP - Ten years after the fall of Voldemort, Auror Draco and Detective Hermione are partnered together on the Ministry’s high profile case hinting at a Death Eater resurgence. Can they put the pieces together to stop it as the plot unfolds and secrets unravel between them? “I know what you did, Malfoy; what you sacrificed,” Hermione said quietly. “There is good in you somewhere if you’ll let yourself see it.”His eyes were dark, unreadable and calculating as he stared back at her, “I may be on the side of the angels, Granger, but don’t think—for one second—that I am one of them.” ****A fic written around this particular quote from Sherlock.

The Gloriana Set by ThebeMoon - M, 81 chapters, Words: 271,830 - The War is won, and Hermione Granger is back at Hogwarts as an “Eighth Year”, feeling reckless and determined to shed her prim bookworm persona. She will do as she pleases, and anyone who doesn’t like it will see the business end of her wand. Also returning is Draco Malfoy, universally hated but determined to restore his family’s name. Hermione’s hopes for a quiet school year are quickly dashed as she contends with mischievous First Years, killer plants, enchanted hair accessories, a totally inappropriate Moaning Myrtle, renegade Death Eaters, a nice vampire, a poorly named study group, a depraved party, and mysterious, threatening blood messages on the castle walls. We have redemption, partial redemption and (sadly or hilariously) no redemption at all. Throw in a snarky, disturbingly attractive Draco with his own secret agenda, and we have a very slow-burn Dramione with a side of who-dun-it. COMPLETE!

How To Love A Slytherin by SlytherinsGreenPrincess - M, 11 chapters - When the ancient Marriage Law is reenacted, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy agree to marry. But while dodging her abusive ex-boyfriend, Ron Weasley, and a new group of rogue death eaters, will they survive?

The End’s Intent - shewritesall - T, 33 chapters - Hermione Granger did not know just what she was getting into when she made friends with a pointy faced, blond boy during her first year. Draco Malfoy did not know how utterly in love he’d become with the bushy haired muggle born girl. Both of them thought they knew what they could expect when they returned to Hogwarts for their final year, but after a freak encounter with some werewolves and an unfortunate incident with wannabe Death Eaters, things turn out much, much different than either of them could have ever imagined.

Shifted - hiccupfound - E, 26 chapters - Three years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Voldemort has gone deep into hiding behind the protection of the remaining Death Eaters. The few surviving Order Members are given one Death Eater to assassinate to draw Voldemort out for the Final Battle. Ginny is given Bellatrix Lestrange, Harry takes Antonin Dolohov. Hermione has Draco Malfoy.

-Lisa

#anonymous #death eaters #post hogwarts and post war

[jomiddlemarch]

The shapes a bright container can contain!

V. “I really don’t know what to say,” Hermione said, undercutting herself in a way he would not point out. Not now, anyway. He might be more worried that he’d gotten the bedroom dead wrong and not dead to rights except for the curve of her lips, the brightness in her dark eyes.

“It’s adequate, then?” Draco replied. “You have everything you need?”

“You’ve gone so far beyond need it’s almost funny. It’s what I would have said I wanted most, if I allowed myself to want something the most, when it came to my bedroom,” she said.

Again, he exercised the utmost self-restraint and refrained from commenting on how heart-breaking her remark was and how devastating it was to hear her talk about wanting and the bedroom in the context of permission. 

“We can alter the pillows and the mattress if they’re too soft,” he said. The bed was wide and downy, piled with pillows, dressed with soft white linen and thick cashmere blankets and a quilted silk coverlet the color of a wood-violet. “It should be warm enough without the bed-curtains, but they’re cozy in the winter and I imagined sometimes, you might want a retreat—”

“This whole place is a retreat,” she said. “And cozy isn’t exactly the word I would have chosen for silk-embroidered velvet hangings, but it’s beautiful. Very beautiful.”

Like you, he did not say. 

“What would you have chosen?”

“Sumptuous, I think. And the view is glorious and the bathtub is divine,” she said. “Shall I go on?”

“You don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything here, except be comfortable and satisfied. You’re to do just as you please,” he said.

“I’m not sure I’m very good at that,” she said. He laughed.

“I know you’re not. I plan to nudge you in the right direction,” he said. 

“Nudge?”

“I’m Slytherin. I’m meant to be subtle. If the situation calls for it, I imagine I’ll give you a shove, metaphorically speaking,” he said. “You’re so unused to it, you may need something less nuanced. More obvious.”

“I can’t help feeling insulted. You make me sound like a hippogriff,” she said.

“I should say it’s the Gryffindor in you. And the fact that you’ve spent most of your life looking to be useful or pleasing to other people, willing to sacrifice your own needs and desires at the flick of an owl’s wing,” he said.

“Muggles say ‘at the drop of a hat,’” she remarked.

“Wizards don’t drop hats. Leviosa, right? I believe you’re well acquainted with that spell,” he replied.

“Merlin, I was a pompous little bossy-boots, wasn’t I?” she said with a wry smile. She’d relaxed with the repartee after tensing up approaching the bed. There’d been no two ways about it—he was taking her on a tour of the house, he had to show her the bedroom because not showing it would be equally as odd, perhaps even more so. At least that’s what he told himself, while studiously avoiding considering how it would feel if she asked questions about the bed linens and he had to make explicit the fact that he’d chosen them all. They both knew but it was easier if they didn’t have to talk about it.

“Only terribly clever and I think nervous,” he said. “Quite frankly, speaking as a parent, I’m not sure how you managed. It was hard enough for Scorpius and he was born into this world and I started teaching at Hogwarts his second year, but we already had the house nearby. You were left to your own devices—”

“I wasn’t the only Muggleborn,” she said.

“But you fell in with a Pureblood and the savior of the Wizarding World,” Draco replied.

“I didn’t fit in before I got to Hogwarts. The only difference was the magic,” Hermione said.

“And the fact that a bloody maniacal monster wanted to take over the world and eradicate you and everyone like you,” he said.

“So, as I said, the only difference was the magic,” she repeated. He laughed, because he had to and she wanted him to, and then they were quiet for a moment, letting dust motes glitter in the sunlight.

“You don’t have to do that, make light of things. You don’t have to talk to me about them, but if you do, you don’t have to joke about it,” he said. She gave him an inquisitive look, one he remembered being sharper, but seeing it at all cheered him. “You don’t need to protect me. I’m an adult—”

“It doesn’t help to be treated as a child, being looked after,” she said.

“I won’t. I don’t see you that way. But you’re not responsible for me, you don’t owe me anything beyond the general civility you’d give anyone else,” he said.

“I won’t stay here if you’re going to lie to me,” she said, startling him. “Of course, I’m responsible for more than I’d give a stranger. We don’t live in the past but it’s still part of us, haven’t you been making that point? You asked me, begged me to let you look after me, because of who we’ve been to each other, so we’re not polite strangers. We’re standing in my bedroom and you picked out everything in it. You probably made the bed by hand. I don’t know exactly what we are, but there’s no general civility about it.”

“You’re right. I only meant, you don’t have to use humor to deflect, to make me comfortable,” he said.

She chuckled, very softly, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“No one else has seen it that way,” she said.

“No one else noticed you used humor as a way to keep them at a distance?” he said.

“No one else thought I was funny,” she said.

#dramione #hermione x draco #draco x hermione #fluff #comfort fic #still on the house tour #romance #hogwarts professors #widower!Draco #trip down memory lane

[annabellelupin]

thoughts I've had while re reading poa as a marauders fan, part one (chapters 1 - 4)

(id just like to point out this is my first time reading the books since middle school and first time I've read the books since I became a marauders fan in 2020)

chapter 1

- ok so ye the Weasleys are really poor, but if they're "extremely poor" you'd figure they'd use their money for something other than a vacation

-I forgot sweet little hedwig existed djdjdjdkdjd

-someone please eat the rat

-let the future cat have him pleaseeeee

-why did I start to dislike hermione so much again??? maybe it's just movie hermione I hate and I can't remember the differences between the two

chapter 2

-why are most of the antagonistic characters portrayed as fat and why is the fact that dudley is obese brought up so many fucking times like that seems pretty fat phobic of you Rowling

- when actually reading and thinking about the Harry potter books and movies I imagine the actor that played sirius and not the fanart marauders sirius I'm more used to, and apparently his hair is depicted as elbow length in the books not shoulder length WE WERE ROBBED. could have had long haired sirius with a bun in ootp

- also I swear marauders Era Sirius and golden trio era Sirius (so canon and fanon sirius) are two completely different people in my mind

- also forgot "muggle" news talked about sirius

-just finished the chapter and seriously he is so sassy (guess that's what you get when you're Sirius and marlenes godson, and James and Lily's actual son)

- also I really fucking hate how much mental abuse is glazed over here like????

- it happens every summer and he's forced to return to his abusers like wtf

- this is why I don't like Dumbledore very much

chapter 3

-forgot padfoot wasn't like an actual dog sized dog

-lowkey forgot about padfoot in general ngl

-bro harry are your really throwing precious and innocent Neville under the bus rn come on dude seriously

-ok like when they mention Sirius I can't help to think of the dramatic, gay, Remus obsessed Sirius from all of the wolfstar text posts I've read

-also the fact they have to clarify what a gun is in the wizard news is wow

-same with Ron not knowing how to use a phone

-no wonder these people keep having Wizarding wars and unstable teachers at their schools

- love how this 13 year old kid is panicking over the possibility of going to wizard prison for breaking one rule

-also side note the more I read the more I feel like Daniel Radcliffe portrayed him super well

- hedwig supremacy

- "ur the literal wizard president" "yea but I'm not ur guardian dumbass I can't sign ur permission slip what in hell is this"

- why is reading stans parts so fucking hard

chapter 4

- ah Florean Fortescue the one genuinely nice adult in these books (isn't he like Alice's dad or something?) I just remembered her last name is actually more or less a headcanon uhhh that's fun

- the Irish quidditch team are actually mentioned along with the quidditch world cup even Harry's checkin out the firebolt

- coincidence that Dean and Seamus are mentioned at the same time? I think not

- seriously jkr why do you keep giving kids abusive gaurdians and acting like it's nothing (talking about Neville and his grandmother)

- "...Ron looking incredibly freckly, Hermione very brown..." (pg 55 in my book). when first reading this part years ago I registered it as Hermione was black/poc and not that she was just tan from the sun lmao

- I swear crookshanks was James' old cat and that's why he hated peter

- also Percy wow this why you don't befriend stray rats man

- the things this rat has seen go on in Percy's and Oliver's dorm room....

- still probably not as bad sharing a dorm with Remus and Sirius tho

- I love the twins sense of humor

- but guys stop messing with my precious baby Percy he's just- an autistic overachiever doing his best guys

- ..."he lost everything..." Yes Sirius did in fact lose almost everything Arthur but not bc what you think happened dude

- "he's safe with Dumbledore-" yea fucking right /sar

- "stationniong soul sucking demons around a school is such a good idea hehehehe" /sar

- literally there's no fucking way McGonagall thought Sirius did it- literally fucking refuse to believe that she did

going to start another post for chapter 5 bc oh boy it's going to be long

#poa #prisoner of azkaban #harry potter marauders #harry potter #harrypotter #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #the marauders era #marauders era #the maruaders #percy weasley

[hiccupfound]

On Hermione killing Draco in Jagged

i’ve always wanted to give my explanation for this, but i fell out of fandom before i got the chance. tonight i was scrolling on my fandom tumblr, trying to find a gif to show my brother and sister in law, and i passed a jagger excerpt. one thing led to another, and i ended up reading the chapter after draco came back. (ch 30 i think?)

i know that some people were truly outraged on my choice to have draco murdered. a lot of people claimed it was out of character, and there’s a good amount of evidence for that, sure, but i think there’s a fair amount of evidence to show that it’s just as much in character as well.

originally, draco was supposed to live. originally, drarry was going to be end game. originally, abraxas was never supposed to come back to 1998, but sometimes you write the narrative and sometimes it writes itself. jagged was the story that taught me that maybe i’m not an outline type of author, because the final product deviated from the original idea so much that it was more frustrating than helpful.

admittedly, very much of the writing in jagged was therapeutic for me. a lot of hermione’s inner dialogue, self hatred, and “selflessness” are things i either see in myself or wish i could be. she’s far from a perfect character, but she’s powerful, level headed and smart. she doesn’t have many weaknesses revealed, not even when we spend half the story in her point of view. tom makes note of that several times when we get to his pov— that he has hermione on this pedestal, that she seems like some sort of impenetrable force.

but at the end of the day— hermione has dealt with extremely traumatizing situations that she had spent the better part of a year repressing. not only that, she was thrown back into 1998 quite suddenly, and even though we don’t see it in tom’s pov, it’s not hard to imagine how triggering that must be. hermione can put on a mask of indifference but at the end of the day that’s all it is— a mask.

i knew very early on that i was choosing the route of a dark order. the order has always been dark (its war, there’s really no moral high ground, despite what harry was brainwashed into thinking).

i felt very particular about how i wanted to pull this off. i didn’t want it to seem sudden or out of the blue. i also didn’t necessarily want “dark” to mean evil, because i feel like in jagged each and every character can be made out to be evil if you break down their actions in different lights. (this is a completely different essay)

draco’s betrayal was always a very dark spot for hermione. it brought on torture that she wore as proof of his disloyalty in her skin everyday. regardless of his actions or his orders, she thought this for years. she built resentment on it. is it logical for this resentment to play a part in her decision once she knows the truth? absolutely not. but that’s the thing, the moment draco steps into grimmauld place, logic has taken a backseat in hermione’s brain. she’s riding purely on emotions. she knows this, and yes, she has the wherewithal to recollect herself if she wanted to. but she doesn’t. it’s like she told remus. draco is her line.

second, hermione would have never, ever watched draco be tortured. damn the plan, damn the betrayal. she would have died to stop it. she would have gotten them both killed, probably. the point is, she couldn’t have lived with herself if she stood for hours and watched it happen. and with that knowledge, and knowing the pain she suffered through and that draco was able to stomach watching it the entire time… well, it was enough for her to not want him around anymore.

also, this was a last stitch effort for remus to prove his loyalty to her. i didn’t realize it at the time, but hermione and remus’s relationship mirrors jude’s and her step father’s from the cruel prince quite a bit. if you haven’t read it, (what are you waiting for?) the main thing you need to know is that they have an endlessly complicated, painful relationship wherein the love they have for each other is not stronger than their need to fight for what they believe is the greater good.

hermione viewed remus like a father, but that wasn’t a one sided relationship. remus loved hermione endlessly like he would his own child.

yet he still took a “calculated” risk. she was tortured and almost killed because of a decision he made. a decision he never planned on telling her about.

remus says he would do it again. and hermione knows it’s the truth, and in some ways she respects him for it. she’ll always be a soldier at heart. but it also solidifies his spot in her life as someone that will never, ever be family to her again. because hermione wouldn’t risk remus’s life for anything.

so she uses draco as leverage. remus sees draco as mostly innocent. his life lies in remus’s hands. he has to choose. hermione’s side, or draco’s life. it’s vindictive, yes, but hermione has just spent the past 4 years using manipulation to get what she wants. as a reader, it’s not a side of her we get to see a lot (aside from when she’s torturing michael, which admittedly, was meant to be foreshadow to this exact moment)

as an author i could have done a better job throwing in more unpredictable or emotional behavior on her part. but at the time, i really wanted this to be a turning point, not just for the order, but for hermione herself. this is kind of her first selfish decision in a long time. the first time she chooses something simply because it’s what she wants. as readers you may say, “her selfish act was to take a life?!” and to that i say, yes. yes it was.

i wanted hermione to be irrational just because. i wanted her to take her power and abuse it a little. we read stories about strong female characters with endless powers who fight and win big wars just to settle at the end in the name of morality or being the better person.

i didn’t want hermione to settle. i wanted hermione angry because she deserved to be.

of course there are arguments against why she didn’t, and of course logicially killing draco wasn’t the decision that made sense. but that’s the thing, hermione is a flawed character. she doesn’t (and won’t) make all her decisions based on logic.

women deserve to be angry. women don’t need to forgive.

jagged hermione doesn’t need to explain why she wanted draco dead, but as an author, i wanted to.

#dramione #tomione #jagged #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter