#the green house was considered to be the 'gryffindor house' in my old school (i was in the red one. how ironic) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kohanayaki · 3 years

Text

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 2

As you reconcile with Sirius, he reminisces on how you came to be friends despite a rather rocky start (mostly told through flashbacks taking place in the Marauders era).

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

________________________________________________________

Ch 2 .:Pranks and Past Prejudices:.

~Previously~

“I was about to see if you were awake,” Sirius admitted with a small grin, “Seems we both had the same idea.”

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, stepping aside slightly so you could come in. If the Sirius Black from your school days had offered you into his room in the dead of night, you would have slapped him upside the head; but things were different now, and so were the two of you.

However, as you glanced around the room you almost laughed at how remarkably unchanged it was, and why wouldn't it be? He hadn't lived here since he was sixteen, and he was only living here now because he preferred this house to an Azkaban cell by a small fraction. While the rest of the house was set in deep tones of obsidian and gray, save for the green Slytherin theme of his younger brother's room, Sirius' room was all warm shades of red and gold, Gryffindor paraphernalia covering every inch of it from Quidditch trophies and old banners to a tapestry he had stolen from the Great Hall when they'd won the house cup that year.

The room was littered with memories of your school life— a set of charred robes from when he and James had drunkenly lit the Quidditch field hoops on fire, an old Beater's bat that he had broken in half during the Cup finals, an old Gobstones set you used to play with in the courtyard, and stacks of classic rock records that you and Remus had gifted him for the holidays. A muggle toolbox sat in the corner of the room from when he'd made improvements to his enchanted motorbike that couldn't be done with magic, which you were certain his parents were mortified by.

Posters of bikini-clad women were plastered across the wallpaper, and you recalled the day he told you his mother had a fit when she realized he'd used a permanent sticking charm on them so she couldn't take them down. Said posters were still present, but mostly covered up by all the photos of him and his friends from their school and early Order days— the only noticeable sign of change you could see from his moving back in. It was truly like some sort of time capsule.

As soon as you tore your eyes away from the room and turned to focus on its owner, a tense silence fell between you two. This was the first time you had seen Sirius in over a decade. The last time you two spoke, he was in chains being led away to Azkaban. What was there to say? How could you possibly think things could go back to the way they were?

“Sirius,” your voice cracked with emotion as you said his name, and when you saw the look in his eyes, so similar to the look he'd given you when he was in that horrible barbed cage during his trial, the dam just broke.

You practically threw yourself at him, sobbing quietly into his shoulder as the fabric of his shirt bunched up in your trembling hands

“I'm sorry,” you said, “I am so, so sorry I didn't believe you, Sirius. I didn't know, I didn't—”

“(Y/n), it's okay,” Sirius said softly.

You almost jumped at his gentle touch, his arm wrapping around your waist and one hand coming up to pet your hair. It hurt him to see you like this, that you went through this much because of him.

“There was no way you could have known,” he said, resting his chin on top of your head as tears continued to stream down your face, “There was no proof that I wasn't the Secret Keeper. We'd decided to make it that rat at the last second. Only James and Lily knew and, well, they couldn't exactly attest to my innocence.”

Hatred bubbled up in his chest at his own mention of Pettigrew, but he forced it down for you, his expression softening as soon as he looked at you. “That was bad judgment on my part, I suppose,” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood, although twelve years in prison was a difficult matter to joke about.

“I should have just believed you,” you muttered into his collar. Sirius' other hand reached out to cup your face, wiping the last few tears from your cheeks.

“Come now, even Moony thought I'd done it,” he said, a small smirk finding its way to his face, “I know what it looked like. . . I don't blame any of you for not believing me. So please, don't blame yourself for this, (Y/n). You're still my best friend.”

“Oh, now you've done it,” you sniffled, laughing despite yourself as fresh tears spilled over. Sirius laughed along with you and yo u could feel the sound reverberate through his chest, rich and melodic. Warm.

He wrapped both his arms around you, holding you tight as you two chuckled like a couple of idiots, standing there glassy-eyed in the middle of his room. If anyone else had bore witness to the scene they'd have thought you'd gone mad, but in that moment you couldn't care less. Your body had been buckling under the weight of your guilt and how much you had missed him. Hearing him say that he still considered you his best friend. . . that was more than you could have ever asked for.

Sirius swelled with pride as he saw he was able to make you smile, something he'd long considered a small victory. He couldn't believe how much your relationship had changed. If someone had told him all those years ago that you would turn out to be someone he couldn't imagine his life without, he wouldn't have believed them. But he supposed life was unexpected like that. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1973 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since the day you'd stood up to him, James Potter found himself increasingly curious about you. Of course he and his friends continued to pick on Snape, but when you were around to fend them off it became more and more difficult to do so, something that the leader of the self-proclaimed Marauders decided was cumbersome.

James insisted that to get to Snape they would have to take you down too, since you were so keen on protecting him.

“We need to cut the head off the snake,” he had said.

And so, slowly but surely, James shifted the cross hairs of his mischief-making from Severus Snape to you. It started out small; a Bat-bogey hex here, some heat sensitive combustion power under your cauldron there. What he didn't expect in the slightest was for you to actually retaliate with pranks of your own.

Quidditch season had just ended as the year came to a close, and James, who was supposed to be helping clean out the Gryffindor tent, was lying on his back and fiddling about with a golden snitch he'd found wedged in the wooden scaffolding. His head perked up as he saw the Lily across the pitch, walking next to you and chatting. He clearly couldn't care less about what, as he had no problem interrupting your conversation.

“Hey, Evans!” he hollered, heading towards you two.

As soon as Lily spotted him she rolled her eyes.

“And now we're walking faster,” she muttered, grabbing you by the arm and tugging you along.

“Aw come on, I just wanna talk,” he said, quickly catching up with you. Before long he had jogged a few paces ahead, turning around to block your path. “Hey,” he said with a smirk. He was wearing his Quidditch practice uniform, broom in hand.

“Merlin, you are nothing if not persistent,” Lily huffed.

“What can I say? I'm a Chaser~”

“Goodbye, James,” Lily deadpanned at the pun, and he quickly moved in front of her again.

“Wait, wait! Just watch this, okay?” he insisted.

You bit back a smirk, grateful he hadn't paid you any mind until now.

“Trust me, you've never seen anything like this before,” James said cockily, willing his broomstick to hover a few feet off the ground and hauling one leg over to mount it. However, as soon as his arse hit the wood, his entire body phased right through it. He groaned as his tailbone made unceremonious contact with the ground, his broomstick now hovering above him. As soon as he looked up the stick dropped and plonked him on the head, solid again.

You burst out laughing, revealing your wand that had been obstructed from his view by your sleeve.

“(Y/n)!” Lily looked at you in shock, hitting you in the arm playfully but unable to fight the laughter that rose in her chest. It was nice to see him get a harmless taste of his own medicine.

“Well, you were right, Potter,” the redhead said, “I've never seen anything like that before.”

James' face flushed with embarrassment while you two walked away, gathering his broom and whatever remained of his pride. You wouldn't get the better of him again.

Or, at least that's what he told himself until the beginning of your fourth year.

________________________________________________________

James strode down the corridors leading to the Great Hall with a pep in his step. It had been an unusually peaceful morning; despite having slept in, he wasn't in much of a rush to join his friends who had already made their way to breakfast.

The real reason for his quick pace was because he couldn't wait to see your reaction to his latest prank. It was a classic, amped up a bit thanks to a tube of ink from one of the “magic” markers at Zonkos. He hoped you liked your new look, because you were going to be saddled with it for a while.

As he walked through the courtyard he shot a wink to a fourth year Hufflepuff girl he recognized from his Divination class and she covered her hand with her mouth, turning away from him slightly as she tried to hold back the giggles that spilled from her lips. He gave himself a pat on the back, oblivious to the fact that the laughter was directed at him, an unawareness that stayed with him up until the moment he threw the doors to the Great Hall open. The gasps and laughter that followed him only grew as he sat down at his usual spot. Even his friends were staring at him, wide-eyed and unblinking.

“What?” James ran a hand through his hair in confusion, “What are you guys—!!”

As his hair flopped in front of his face his peripheral vision was curtained with the brightest shade of neon turquoise he'd ever seen.

“No,” he said, “no, no, no way!”

He grabbed one of the food trays, dumping the pastries that were on top onto the table. Peter squeaked as he caught a few that were about to fall, setting them down quietly on his own plate.

James stared at his reflection in the shiny metal, and sure enough his once pristine brunette hair was colored the bright blue of the magic marker whose contents he'd dumped into your shower bottle the night before.

“Did you like the shampoo?” a voice behind him asked innocently.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned around to see you, your hair colored the same bright blue shade. Now he was thoroughly confused.

“It smells nice, right?”

“How did you. . . if I. . . why is your hair—”

“A simple connection charm on the shampoo bottle,” you said, “anyone who touches it receives the same benefits and results of the next person who uses it within three hours. In this case, you landed yourself a dye job and a hell of a keratin treatment, so you're welcome. The spell was already on the bottle to begin with; pretty convenient when you have dorm mates that can all save on buying product, and besides it can be kind of nice to skip a hair wash day every once in a while. I suppose I should thank you, I didn't have to do any shopping or sneaking around for this one. You did all the work for me.”

You put your hand to your chin, pretending to study him for a moment.

“You should take care of that fast, though” you said nonchalantly, gesturing to his hair, “you don't look nearly as cute as I do in this color, Potter.”

To further prove your point, you waved your wand around the crown of your head, and with a quick utter of 'aufero hue' the blue in your hair seemed to melt right off the strands, leaving behind your natural (h/c) locks. The color swirled around the tip of your wand in an aqueous state for a moment before you flung it aside. It landed with a splat! against the Gryffindor table, staining a section of the wood that same shade of bright blue as if it had grown that way.

“I'd do it for you myself, but I don't want to,” you smirked, “ Perhaps you could take a few remedial classes to learn the color-leeching charm. Have fun figuring something out!”

And with that you flounced away, leaving behind a very embarrassed, very blue, and very reluctantly impressed James Potter.

He may just have found himself a proper rival.

Sirius scoffed from where he sat.

“Oh please, the stupid charm can't be that hard to do,” he said, taking out his wand.

“Not that I don't have faith in you, mate, but I'm probably better off seeing if Slughorn has anything for this,” James said.

“Why don't you just soak your head in some Valerian water? That's what takes the color out of potions, right?”

“Peter, he might go bald if he does that.”

“Oh.”

_______________________________________________________

James would go on to land a few good jokes on you too. There was one night where you had snuck into the Prefect's bathroom and emerged with a mermaid tail, which was pretty awesome until you realized you had no way of getting out of the tub. From then on, you and James would continue to try and get the jump on one another, marking the start of your now-infamous fourth year prank war. It entertained the students and infuriated the faculty. Gradually, your pranks on one another became more light-hearted, meant to amuse the other person and make them laugh rather than actually hurt or humiliate them.

“Very funny, (L/n),” James said as he walked up to you, his body turned around 180 degrees from the waist up so he had to shuffle backwards to face you. You laughed, nearly choking on your pumpkin juice as you saw your handy work.

“What are you, five?”

“Right, because you're so much more mature stalking and bullying my friends,” you quipped back.

“I really don't understand how Snivelus is your friend.”

“Severus,” you said crossly, “and for the record, I really don't understand how Remus is yours either. He seems like a nice guy.”

“Har har,” James rolled his eyes, “Now would you turn me the right way 'round already? I've got Quidditch practice.”

“Nah, I think you're fine to play like this.”

“Honestly? Not a bad tactic. I can cover my blind spot and stare at my own ass while I fly.”

“Who's five now?” you grinned.

As the months went on, instead of storming over to each other and slinging insults, your interactions with James became more akin to playful banter. And frankly, Sirius didn't get it. You were a Slytherin, and a pureblood at that. Hell, you were a descendant of one of the 28 pureblood families. Everything about you went against everything he believed in and relished in getting away from each year when he would leave home to go to school. You were in the same house as those stupid blood purists, you probably were one yourself—

“You're glaring.”

Sirius blinked, snapping out of his stupor as Remus nudged him in the shoulder. He said nothing, slowly returning to eating his dinner as he tore his eyes away from you, sitting at the Slytherin table with Snivelus, Evan Rosier, and his younger brother of all people. He stabbed at his roast potatoes a little too harshly and his friends traded looks among themselves.

“You alright there, mate?” James asked cautiously.

“Fantastic,” Sirius said, shoving another forkful of potatoes into his mouth to avoid saying anything unsavory as he spotted you heading towards their table.

“Coming to the library today, Remus?” you asked the boy to his right who looked up at you in surprise.

“Oh, sure thing,” he said, “I'm off for the night.”

“Great, we can study for Arithmancy then,” you said. Remus nodded at your suggestion and you gave him a dazzling smile, walking off with your books.

“Since when did you two get so chummy?” Sirius bristled.

Remus rolled his eyes.

“We're just studying for the upcoming mid marks,” he said, “They’re proficient in Ancient Runes and History of Magic. As a study partner it's. . . refreshing.”

“Oi, are you calling us stupid?” James rose a brow.

“Your words, not mine,” Lupin grinned. He saw Sirius' bothered expression and sighed, collecting his things.

“You might get on if you bothered to get to know them,” he told Sirius out of the others' earshot, slinging his book bag over his shoulder before heading off in your direction.

You only continued to grow inadvertently closer to James throughout your fourth year, your prank battle coming to its epic conclusion with the two of you joining forces against some particularly nasty upperclassmen. Your practical jokes subsided, your quips and passing insults were traded for real conversations and walking each other to class. You hated to admit it, but he'd grown on you— especially with him letting up considerably on bullying Severus and annoying Lily lately.

All the while, the closer you got to James the more irritated his best friend became. In Sirius' mind, the more time you were spending with James the less time James was spending with him. They hardly hung out alone anymore. And since James started hanging out with you he started mellowing out, which made Lily start hanging out with him, which made him even more tame. Sirius just wanted his best friend back.

“You do realize that issue would largely be resolved if you weren't so bothered by hanging out with both of them together, right?” Lupin had brought up one night as Sirius was airing out his frustrations.

“I'm not going to bother making friends with someone whose family is so wrapped up in blood politics they forget to be human beings first. Trust me, I've met their mother enough times to know.”

“Have you ever asked them about it?” Remus pressed.

“I don't really need to, do I? They're a (L/n). Open your eyes, Moony!”

Remus' brow furrowed, a shine in his eyes akin to sympathy as he regarded Sirius.

“Perhaps it's you that needs to clear your vision, friend.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for the unexpected early support on this story! I have a lot planned for it~ If you’d like to be added to the taglist just let me know !

Read chapter 3 here!

Taglist: @blackpinkdolan @sleep-i-ness @parker-natasha

#harry potter #the marauders #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x slytherin!reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus black x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders #severus snape x reader #severus snape #multi chapter #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #post azkaban sirius

155 notes · View notes

vnderoos · 3 years

Text

how did it end up like this? ✷ george weasley

(gif is not mine, credit to the owner) warnings / language, underage drinking word count / 13.1k

masterlist in bio ↴

THE ATMOSPHERE OF THE GREAT HALL that morning was nothing short of pleasant as Y/N walked through the large doors, her eyes flickering over the smiling faces of the other students. Part of her was happy that something as simple as a quidditch match was enough to get the whole school excited, but the other part of her thought the day couldn't move on any faster. She just wanted to watch Gryffindor hand Ravenclaw their asses on a shiny, silver platter, and there was no doubt in her mind that she'd get to witness it later.

In fact, she was sporting her red and gold sweater to prove it. It wasn't any old quidditch sweater, though. It was one that Molly Weasley had made for her last summer when she broke her arm after Ginny and the boys tried to teach her how to play, deciding she looked better rooting for them on the sidelines instead. She remembered how Molly had been hesitant to present it to her—like a sweater made from the woman's own hands wasn't all she had wanted after seeing the ones she'd made for Fred and George. I thought you could wear it when you cheer on our boys, she'd said, knowing how close the girl was with her twin sons, and Y/N would never forget the beaming smile on her face when she nearly cried at the sight of it. She had worn that sweater with unbeatable pride ever since.

When Y/N approached the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the twins were all wearing their team sweaters and she couldn't help but grin as she slipped onto the bench beside George. "Lovely day so far, isn't it?" she hummed as she sidled up to the boy, her thigh and shoulder pressing into his own, and despite the flip of her stomach and the fluttering of her heart, she blamed it on wanting to be closer to the group as a whole. A few of their eyes flitted to her as she settled in and soft greetings filtered from their mouths at her presence.

George was, by far, the happiest to see her. A dreamy smile spread across his lips as he looked at her, his little heart pattering when her first instinct was to invade his personal space. He didn't mind in the slightest, of course, and to prove it, he slipped his arm behind her and grabbed her hand. "I reckon it'll get better after the match," he replied, totally oblivious, in true Weasley fashion, to the way her cheeks flushed as she intertwined her fingers with his. The gesture was so normal for them that he barely thought anything of it and none of their friends seemed to question it, either.

Fred, who might've looked like his twin save for the shape of his nose and a couple of scars in random places, seemed a lot more invested in the game. "Yeah," he agreed confidently, crossing his arms on the tabletop. "'M sure the Ravenclaws'll soil themselves after we whip 'em on the pitch," he added, a crooked smile settled on his lips and Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "And someone's going to catch the snitch for us tonight, too, eh, Harry?" The older twin jutted his chin out towards the boy, whose dark eyebrows lifted slightly at his name.

Harry's green eyes darted between Y/N and Fred, before he nodded his head. "Oh, yeah, yeah," he said, his expression flickering from surprised to something more certain—more confident. "Cho is a great seeker, but I'm afraid I'm a bit better," he joked, a smile playing on his lips and Ginny scoffed from beside him, throwing a lock of her bright red hair over her shoulder.

"Bit cocky this morning, are we?" Ginny asked teasingly and Y/N could see the way that Harry's pale cheeks prickled with pink. Fred let out a loud laugh. She glanced over at George who fought a small chuckle and she couldn't help but do the same when she realized they had the same thought. She tilted her head down to hide her amusement as George's thumb brushed over the back of her hand, wondering how two people could be so oblivious.

Ron, on the other hand, didn't seem quite as enthused at their exchange as everybody else. "Don't think anyone asked your input," he muttered, his mouth filled with half of his biscuit, and a couple of crumbs fell from his lips as he spoke. Y/N's eyebrows lifted as they fell on the tabletop and she opened her mouth to make a quip about it, but the moment passed and Hermione took it upon herself to swat Ron in the arm. "Ow, what was that—"

In the middle of his moaning, Hermione cut him off with a sharp look. "She's your sister. Be nice, Ronald," she instructed in a motherly tone, before letting her eyes settle on his mouth. It was dusted in pieces of his biscuit and she shook her head at him in disappointment, but annoyance soon took over. "And where are your manners?" she chided.

"Yeah, Ronald. You're lucky mum's not her to wack you with the dishrag, but from the looks of it, you might get a book to the head instead," Ginny piped up again, referring to the dog-earred novel that sat next to Hermione's plate of food, and the group erupted into laughter. Y/N threw her head against George's shoulder, laughing into him, and she could feel the rumble of his chest as he let out his own chortles.

Even Hermione was giggling, but Ron got so flustered, even his ears turned pink. "Oh, shut it, Ginevra," he whined, after swallowing his foot for once. "I hope you fall off your broom during the game," he told her and Ginny hadn't been too far off, because Hermione picked up her book and gave him a good smack in the shoulder. His head whipped to the girl beside him and he gave her an offended look, lifting his hand to rub his shoulder, before he looked at Y/N. "The abuse I get from this one. George is lucky that you're so passive," he muttered and she nearly felt her heart stop in her chest.

The breath felt like it'd gotten sucked right out of her lungs and her eyes widened. She looked over at George when she couldn't find the words to speak for herself and she found his cheeks nearly as red as Ron's had been before. "What's that supposed to mean, Ronnykins?" he asked, making a halfhearted attempt at a silly nickname to keep the mood light and it only partially worked.

Either way, it had bought Y/N enough time to get over her initial shock of the question. "George and I are friends, of course, he's lucky," she hummed. "But you and 'Mione are what, exactly?" she asked, taking pleasure in the way that she directed the spotlight to him instead, and Ron seemed to sink into himself. Y/N and George laughed after that, but he couldn't help but let her words bobble around in his head.

Friends.

—

Sometimes, it was a little scary how good Fred Weasley was at predicting the outcome of quidditch games. It was like the game ran in his blood, and considering how he and George played on the field, maybe it did. He was the sole reason why a Gryffindor win never came as a surprise to Y/N, and this one was no different. When Harry had disappeared beneath the bleachers with Cho Chang, in a race for the snitch, the crowd had fallen silent, waiting with bated breath.

She knew it was impossible, but she liked to think that every time Harry's fingers wrapped around that winged ball, she could feel it in her very soul. When he'd flown out from underneath one of the Ravenclaw stands waving his fist in the air and flashes of gold streaked through his glove, she wasn't the least bit surprised. In fact, she called it instinct.

With Gryffindor already in the lead and the snitch in Harry's fingers, the win was official. Y/N could feel it radiating through her body, chills spreading through her limbs, and through the rest of their house, triumphant uproar filling her ears as soon as the game was called to a close.

Merlin, she loved quidditch. Especially that part, where the whole school would watch in suspense, and then when the snitch was caught, it would be absolute chaos.

As a cheer ripped itself from Y/N's own lungs, loud enough to make her throat raw, and her eyes surveyed the team on their victory lap, looking for her favorite troublemaker, she figured that maybe she just liked the chaos. She stood up on her seat when she spotted his flash of red hair beside his brother, identifying him by the hook in his nose, and she knew he'd seen her when he lifted his hand in a wave. She grinned back at him, flailing her arm in the air, and when he and Fred made their way to her side of the pitch, they shouted her name in passing. She just laughed and shook her head as they flew by.

Y/N took it upon herself to meet the team down on the bottom of the pitch after they'd landed and everyone else had dispersed, heading back to their common rooms to either wallow in the loss or, in Gryffindor's case, relish in that fantastic win.

Harry was the first one she saw when she stepped onto the grassy field, his dark hair matted to his sweaty forehead and his green eyes glittering with the satisfaction of securing the win, and she let out a squeak when they locked eyes. So worked up with pride for her house and her beautifully athletic friends, she couldn't keep herself from skipping up to him excitedly. "Harry," she said firmly, clapping him on the shoulders while he looked at her with a smile. "You, my friend," she paused, pointing a finger at his chest, "are bloody brilliant," she said, lifting that same hand to tweak his nose and he laughed.

Ron, who was standing only a couple of feet away, made his way over, a small laugh spilling from his lips, and Ginny wasn't far behind. "You know, if you weren't so clumsy, I bet you'd make a great captain, Y/N/N," the redhead teased and her eyes darted over to him. His fingers were wrapped around the handle of his broom and he was so sweaty, his robes were clinging to his skin.

Y/N broke out into a smile at the keeper. "Yeah, well, I think we all remember what happened over summer," she said and Ginny chuckled from the side. "See?" She jutted her thumb over towards the girl and locked their elbows together.

Ginny looked over at her with a small shrug. "S'okay. I think we'd all crash and burn if we didn't have you cheering us on every match, anyways," she said, earning nods of agreement from the boys and Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Oh, whatever." She patted Ginny's hand with her own, before she took a look around. "Anyone seen the boys?" she asked, her eyes flitting back to the three and Harry nodded towards them. Fred and George were off to the side a couple of feet, talking with Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson. Fred's broom was propped against his side and his hands were stretched out in front of him, a smile wide on his face as he spun up one of his stories. Y/N let out a huff of amusement. "Well, I'm gonna go congratulate them on the win, but you guys did amazing," she said, sliding her arm out of Ginny's and letting her eyes bounce off of all of them. "See you later." And with that, and a couple of quiet goodbyes, she was off towards the twins.

Y/N could see Angelina smile and nod at her as she ran excitedly towards the group and George spun around to meet her eyes. His red hair was damp with sweat, tucked behind his ears to keep it from falling into his eyes, and his skin glistened with the glow of a good game. She adored post-match George, he was prettier than usual. "Hello, darling," he hummed, making her heart melt in her chest, and he held his arms out to her. "Come to gush over us, have you?" he teased, but she hardly even registered it as she threw her arms around his shoulders. George wasn't even fazed by the impact—as this was something she did after every match, win or lose—and he lifted her up off of the ground, giving her waist a good squeeze before he set her back on her feet.

"Oh, I absolutely did," she said, pulling out of his arms so she could look at the other three, but he managed to keep an arm around her waist. "You all did so good, I'm so proud," she hummed. "You two and Alicia were marvelous. I mean, those last few scores were beautiful," she said, making the girls all bashful. "And Fred—" she started, but George couldn't help but look down at Y/N as she praised them all, warmth spreading through his chest at the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about the game, her words fading out for him.

Y/N was no different than she usually was after they'd won, but he often forgot how endearing she was when she rambled on about something she was passionate about. George curled his fingers slightly and brushed the tips along her side softly, watching her curiously as she went through their plays. Part of him hated that they were so close, because it made the frequent urges to kiss her to much harder to ignore. She was with him all the time and it was all he thought about anymore, even though he knew that just one peck might ruin everything. He was so certain that she thought of him as nothing more than a best friend that he kept it to himself.

Well, himself and Fred.

It was so bad sometimes that Fred would have to smack him to draw him back to reality.

George's train of thought came to a screeching halt when Y/N turned towards him. She always saved him for last, which he didn't mind. In fact, it made him feel more special, because she'd focus all her attention on him, then, and he'd get to walk her back to the common room. "And George—bloody hell—when you saved Alicia from that bludger, I nearly lost my voice. That was so badass," she said.

He could feel his stomach swirling with joy and his cheeks heating up at her words, and he caught Fred wiggling his eyebrows from over Y/N's head. That git, he thought to himself, but he kept his smile for her. "You think?" he asked and she nodded her head quickly. "Well, since we've all got something to celebrate, then," he paused, looking at Fred and the girls with a mischievous grin, "I propose we break out a bit of the Ogden's," he suggested.

Y/N looked up at him with a gaze that made his insides turn to mush. "I would be thoroughly disappointed if you didn't," she hummed, glancing between him and his brother.

Fred laughed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "Well, that settles it," he said.

—

Hermione watched Y/N throw yet another sweater on her bed, as if she hadn't already emptied her entire trunk onto her mattress, and she let out a sigh. She was already dressed, but Y/N seemed to be having a hard time picking out her own outfit. "Why don't you just wear that green sweater? Not very suiting for a Gryffindor win, but you know George loves you in anything," she stated, walking over to the girl's bed and lifting up a forest green, cable-knitted sweater.

Y/N shot her an incredulous look, still leaning halfway into her trunk, and her lips parted slightly. "What in Godric's name would George have to do with my outfit?" she asked, even though they both knew good and well that she wanted to look nice for the younger twin. It was too bad that she had a hard time admitting it to herself, let alone her friends. Maybe it was because she usually felt like a lost cause with him. She was so far up friendship's ass with George, she really didn't see any hope of climbing out.

"Fine," Hermione sighed, folding the sweater neatly and setting it back on the bed with the rest of Y/N's bunched up clothing. "You're probably going to get hot with the fire and that alcohol in your system, so," she paused, letting her eyes dart from one piece of clothing to another, until she picked out the perfect outfit, "how about you try this on? If you don't like it, we can default to the sweater," she suggested, holding up a pair of ripped, boyfriend jeans and a dark red tank top with lacy detailing. "You could wear it with your sneakers, too, so you're still comfortable," she added.

Y/N got up off of her knees and took in the outfit. She'd always been to self-conscious to throw it on without a shirt underneath or a cardigan, but what was better than wearing it in the comforts of her own common room, where everyone was about to get too plastered to care, anyways? She took the clothes from Hermione, running her fingers over the fabric and she glanced up at the girl. She knew she would probably regret the words that were about to come out of her mouth, but it wasn't like her feelings were ever that much a secret to anyone. "You reckon he'll like it?" she asked hesitantly.

A warm smile spread across Hermione's lips, feeling a bit honored that Y/N had trusted her with somewhat of a confession, and she nodded. "You'll look beautiful, Y/N/N. I'll wait for you on the stairs while you change, then, and we can walk in together, okay?" she asked and Y/N nodded.

Hermione turned to leave, but Y/N stopped her before she could, giving her wrist a gentle squeeze. "Thank you," she said. "I don't know what I'd do without you sometimes," she mumbled and the girl smiled.

"I know," she teased, walking out of the room with a wink and leaving Y/N to get dressed.

The second Hermione left her to her own devices, she cast a quick spell to tidy up her mess of clothes and drop them back in her trunk. After that was settled, she shimmied out of her game-day outfit and pulled on the one Hermione had chosen for her instead. She felt a lot more self-conscious than usual, after she'd been wearing a sweater all day, but she got over it quickly when she glanced in the mirror. She'd done her hair and makeup before she'd looked for an outfit, so she wouldn't have had to worry about it, and looking at herself, now, she knew she'd made a good choice.

A half-smile settled on her lips as she studied herself in the mirror, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she turned, looking over her shoulder to check how her backside looked in her jeans. The jeans were snug in all the right places and she couldn't help but hope that her favorite twin might notice, as well. "Oh, yes," she hummed to herself with satisfaction, before she walked over to her nightstand. She slipped a couple of gold rings onto her fingers and popped in a pair of hoops.

Once she was all finished, she made her way out of the room, only to find Hermione waiting on the top step, just like she'd said she'd be. "Bloody hell," Hermione muttered when Y/N made herself known, her lips parting slightly as she took in her outfit.

Y/N's eyebrows lifted at Hermione's reaction and she felt the sudden urge to fold in on herself. She glanced down at herself and brushed her hands over her exposed stomach. "How do I look?" she asked, a sheepish smile spreading across her face.

"Stupid," Hermione hummed and Y/N's eyes widened, "because you ever even worried. You look gorgeous," she complimented and the girl felt her cheeks flush. "C'mon, let's go show you off," she said, grabbing her hand and starting down the stairs.

Y/N could feel her heart hammering in her chest, sudden nervousness prickling underneath her skin, and she almost wanted to turn and hightail it back up that staircase, but she didn't. She let Hermione lead her into the common room, where all the other Gryffindors were already dispersed throughout, talking with their friends or on their way to making new ones. She felt her nerves dissolve when her eyes met George's across the room. He looked like he'd showered since the game, as the dirt and the sweat were long gone, leaving his hair all shiny and fluffy. She had to fight the urge to go over and thread her fingers through it when he smiled at her. She was about to tell Hermione she'd catch up with her later, before the girl pulled her hand away.

She looked at Y/N with bright eyes, glancing at Ron, Harry, and Ginny, who were immersed in conversation by the designated snack table. "I know you probably want to talk to George, but I still wondered if you'd be mad if I went with Ron and Harry?" she asked and Y/N was almost relieved that she'd beat her to the chase.

She shook her head quickly and gestured over to them. "No, not at all, 'Mione," she said, urging her over there. "I'm sure we'll merge with you guys sooner or later, so I'm not worried. Go get him," she finished with a wink, not missing the way that Hermione's cheeks flared. Her mutual feelings with Ron were anything but subtle, so she liked to tease the girl about it with every chance she got, but she knew they'd never act on it until they admitted it to themselves.

Once Hermione mumbled a goodbye and walked away, Y/N's eyes snapped back to George, who'd started making his way over to her as soon as Hermione left. She felt herself smile and she moved to meet him halfway, taking in his outfit as she did. He was wearing a sweater that his mom made for him, a navy one with the letter 'G' stitched in gold on the front, and a pair of jeans. It was simple, but something about it made her heart skip a beat when the distance had been closed between them.

George's free hand, the other occupied by a drink, came to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer to him by the small of her back, and he let out a loud wolf whistle. "Well, don't you look absolutely stunning tonight, darling," he complimented, making a show of brushing her hair out of her face to see her earrings and holding one of her hands up to check out her rings. Usually, he'd be more embarrassed about being so forward, but with the familiar buzz of firewhisky already tingling in his fingers, he didn't really care.

Especially not as Y/N's cheeks turned about as red as her top, and she leaned forward. She wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face in his sweater, laughing softly in slight embarrassment. "Thank you, Georgie," she said, looking up at him once she felt her cheeks lighten up, and he smiled down at her. "You don't look too shabby yourself," she complimented, plucking at his sweater as she pulled away, and she watched a crooked smile curve onto his lips.

"What d'you mean, Y/N/N?" George hummed teasingly, patting his own cheek. "I always look devilishly handsome," he added and she rolled her eyes up at him. He took it as a win when she didn't explicitly deny it. He set one hand on her bicep and let it trail down to her wrist softly, while he emptied the contents of his cup into his mouth with the other. "Anyways, I'm gonna go refill. Did you want me to grab you a drink?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Sure, I'll wait for you over there," she hummed, pointing to the wall on the other side of the room where George had come from before. Angelina and some of the other chasers were gathered in front of it, as beautiful as ever, and Y/N figured she might say hello.

George nodded at her request. "Be right back," he told her, giving her hand a squeeze, before he slipped away. She found herself missing their close proximity as soon as he left, taking the warmth of his body with him, and she half-wondered if she should just follow him to the drink table. She didn't want to give anyone any ideas about them, though, so she stuck with her original plan and made her way over to the fireplace, where Katie, Alicia, and Angelina were all huddled together.

Alicia was the first to notice her, a bright smile stretching across her pretty, pink mouth, and she tucked a tuft of her chocolate hair behind her ear. "Well, well, well," she hummed, her brown eyes scanning the length of Y/N's body, and she stepped towards her with her hand on her hip. "Somebody looks hot," she drew on with a grin, reaching out to welcome her with a side hug.

Y/N could feel her face get warm again at the comment, as she wasn't used to such attention, and she returned the side hug. "Says you," she retaliated, taking in the black tube top and red, leather skirt that Alicia sported herself. She took in the girl's dark eye makeup and glossy lips, and if she wasn't so into George, she might've had some questions for herself. "You're a total smoke show," she said and the brunette laughed. She pulled away from Alicia and her eyes landed on Katie, in her maroon jumpsuit, and Angelina, with her sparkly, gold, minidress. "Good Godric, you all are," she corrected herself, a beaming smile gracing her face when she took in how pretty her friends were.

"Thank you, Your Hotness," Alicia slurred, her cheeks a little pink from the Ogden's and it finally clicked why she seemed so forward. Y/N laughed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I was disappointed that I didn't get to see you after the game, but I heard ol' George whisked you away," she teased, waggling her eyebrows and eliciting yet another giggle from the girl.

Angelina threw her arm over Y/N's shoulder and leaned into her, while Katie did the same to Alicia. She braced herself against her shoulder, tipping her drink to her lips before speaking. "Yeah, speaking of your little boytoy," Angelina hummed, making Katie almost snort. "Honestly, I don't understand how he's more than three feet away from you, right now, you look so good," she said.

Y/N couldn't help from glancing over her shoulder at that, looking at the refreshment table for George, but she couldn't seem to find him, so she turned back. "Well, he was supposed to be getting me a drink, but I feel like he's taking a bit long," she said, her heart sinking slightly. Sometimes she liked or when they poked fun at her about her relationship with George, because if people noticed, maybe that meant he felt something for her, too. Times like now, though, where she felt like it was impossible for him to look at her as anything other than a sister, not so much. "Plus, it's not really like that between George and I, you know? We're good friends is all," she added, ignoring the way it almost hurt her to admit it.

None of the girls seemed to buy into that, though. Especially not Katie. "Not like that, my arse, Y/N/N," she said. "Friends don't look at each other the way you two do. I mean, the both of you are so clueless, it hurts," she continued, putting her hand over her heart and letting her head lull back as she let out an exaggerated groan.

Alicia nodded, seconding Katie's words. "Honestly. Plus, friends aren't all over each other the way you two are, either," she said. "I mean, I think it might kill him to go a day without holding your hand, or brushing your hair behind your ear, or touching you," she explained and Y/N felt queasy all of the sudden.

They were right. Normal friends didn't look at each other or touch each other in the ways that Y/N and George did, but they weren't just normal friends. They were best friends. George was her moon and stars at this point and she would never, ever hesitate to give him the world if he'd asked it of her, but what happened between them—every glance, every touch, every word—was strictly platonic.

Right?

Y/N didn't have time to respond before a familiar voice piped up from behind her. "Hey, ladies," Fred, she found when she looked over her shoulder, sing-songed as he made his way over to them. His eyes were focused mainly on Angelina, a soft smirk playing on his lips as he drank her in, before he let his eyes flicker between them all. "Mind if I steal our lovely little Y/N away for a bit? I've got matters to discuss with her," he said, winking at Angelina when they locked eyes again, and he watched the girl remove her arm from around Y/N.

"Just bring her back in one piece. We know you've got a habit for blowing things up," Angelina teased.

She nudged Y/N in Fred's direction and he donned a look of mock offense. "I'd never hurt a hair on her pretty head," he said, before letting a grin stretch out onto his lips. Y/N rolled her eyes at his theatrics and stepped closer to him, nodding at him in a silent way of saying she was ready. "Bye, Angie." He flicked his eyebrows at her in farewell, waiting for her to give him a flirty wave off, before he followed Y/N.

She stopped when they were out of the girls' earshots and she rested her back against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked over at Fred. "Am I in trouble, Freddie?" she asked in a teasing tone.

Fred looked down as her words pulled a quiet chuckle from his mouth. He placed his forearm on the wall above their heads as he settled in next her, leaning against it so he could just face her instead of leaning his back on the wall like she was. "Well, dear Y/N, that depends on how you look at it," he told her and she raised her eyebrows in question. He leaned forward as if to be more secretive. "I'm sure you'd be happy to know Georgie's not taken his eyes off of you since you walked in," he explained in a whisper, and she felt her cheeks turn pink.

Fred pulled away as she blushed, laughing to himself. She lifted one of her hands to her cheek, feeling how warm it was beneath her fingertips. "Shut up, you git. That was mean," she tried to hiss, but a laugh ultimately bubbled out of her lips.

He shrugged his shoulders and took a drink from his cup, his signature smirk still lingering on his face. "I wasn't teasing you that time, but whether you believe me or not is up to you. I wanted to talk to you about something else, anyways," he said, moving on from the topic of his brother. He took his hand off the wall and he shifted his weight, something near to nerves settling in his stomach. "Look, I'm sure you've picked up on how I feel about Angelina, yeah?" he asked.

"No." Y/N pretended to look surprised, letting her jaw drop as she let out a dramatic gasp. She got her bit of fun out of the way before Fred shot her a look and she cut it out. "I have," she admitted, on a more serious note, with a small shrug.

He nodded once. "Well, I wanted to make a move tonight and I think you should be the one to help me."

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at that, tucking her hands into her back pockets. "And how do you want me to do that?" She asked and Fred's face lit up as he explained his plan. "Well, you'll have to get me a drink or two first."

"That, I can manage," he hummed, already holding the rest of his out for her.

—

George had just finished pouring himself and Y/N new cups of firewhisky when a group of other Gryffindors rushed to the table for the same reason. Feeling almost lucky that he'd finished when he did, he lifted their cups up off of the tabletop and maneuvered himself around them. His eyes trailed along the wall where she said she'd be at, making sure he could pick her out in the crowd, and his heart nearly fluttered out of his chest when he did.

Y/N was standing in front of the fireplace and she looked enchanting, even with Angelina Johnson hanging off of her shoulder. Her hair fell in pin straight sheets over her bare shoulders and the fire behind her created an outline of golden light behind her. If George had been any drunker, he might've mistaken her for an angel, honestly. He watched her mouth break out into a smile, a laugh that he couldn't hear from so far away bubbling from her lips, and he was about to make his way over to her, when Lee Jordan stepped in front of him.

"Georgie, my man," Lee said, beaming as he held up two shot glasses filled with a clear liquid. "Let's knock back a quick one," he suggested, holding one of them out to the redhead.

George was almost disappointed by his offer, letting out a sigh. He'd only talked to Y/N for a minute or two before he'd left her earlier, and right now, he was more focused on getting back to her than getting sloshed. "Lee, I'm sorry, but I was just about to—" he cut himself off when his eyes flickered back to Y/N and she wasn't there anymore. His eyebrows furrowed quickly, wondering where she'd gone so quickly, before his eyes wandered further down the wall and his stomach dropped. Her back was leaned against the wall while Fred, his own brother, stood next to her with his hand propped over their heads. He was whispering something in her ear, and George just knew he wouldn't like it when he saw how pink her cheeks got. Hot jealousy bubbled up inside of his chest and his eyes flickered back to Lee. "You know what, yeah. Let's do it," he hummed, repositioning the cups so he was holding them by the rims in one hand.

"That's what I'm talking about," Lee grinned and he held up one of the shot glasses, which George took more than eagerly, now. "On three?" he questioned and George nodded. "Right. One. Two," he counted, but in the place of 'three', he and George threw back their shots and swallowed them.

The liquid was bitter as it trailed down George's throat, but he knew the taste of vodka well enough to not ask Lee what it was. He'd had it so many times, he'd hardly flinched, either. "Here, Lee. Thanks," he hummed, passing the boy his glass back, and Lee nodded. George was about to excuse himself and walk over to Fred and Y/N. What he'd say, he wasn't really sure, but he didn't get the chance to think about it before his thoughts were interrupted.

"Alright, alright," a familiar, feminine voice shouted at the top of their lungs, quieting the entire common room in a matter of seconds. His eyes flickered to the center of the room where his very own Y/N stood on top of a table, with a drink he hadn't seen her with before and her hands held up in the air. He wanted to be angry at her, for talking with his brother over him, but she wasn't with him, now, so maybe he'd just chalk it up to bad timing on his end. She looked really beautiful, though, with her cheeks flushed because all the attention had shifted to her and her hair tied back in a low pony tail, something she'd probably done when he took his shot. "Who's up for some spin the bottle?" she yelled, before the common room erupted into roars.

George laughed to himself and he started towards her.

Things were about to get interesting.

At this point in the evening, the Gryffindor common room and everyone in it had been divided into two groups: those who were going to play spin the bottle, and those who wanted to keep partying on their own. Y/N, George, and all of their friends—with a couple of others sprinkled into the mix—had gathered on the half of the room intent on participating, all sat on the carpet in a tight circle. Everyone's knees were brushing against each other, all their cheeks flushed pink from the firewhisky, and excited smiles sat on all of their faces. "I'm going to assume that everyone knows how to play," Fred said as he placed an empty bottle of Ogden's Old in the center of the circle, having taken it upon himself to lead the pack after Y/N pretended the entire thing was her idea. Why he couldn't have just suggested it himself was beyond her.

George—who sat on the opposite side of the circle from Y/N, much to his dismay—chuckled and he leaned back onto the palms of his hands. "I'm sure if they don't, they'll pick it up quick," he hummed, and murmurs of agreement spread around the circle. The rules of the game were simple, really. Someone would the chain and spin the bottle, share a kiss with whoever it landed on, and then, the person they kissed would spin the bottle and the cycle would continue. As he waited for Fred to reclaim his spot in the circle, he knew exactly who he wanted his bottle to land on, but he wouldn't admit it for anything. "Who's first, then?" he asked, his eyes flitting around everyone, and his eyes locked with Y/N's for a moment. His heart melted when she flushed him that kind smile of hers and he managed one back.

Y/N couldn't help but be slightly disappointed that George had never returned with her drink earlier, as that meant her time with him had been cut short. She'd been hoping Fred's game might've changed that, but when she'd ended up sitting across from him, her hopes had dwindled. They still weren't too high, because the odds of her spin landing on him were about one in thirteen.

"I think Y/N/N should be the first to go, since this was her idea," Fred chimed from her left. He was lucky that Dean and Neville were positioned between the two of them or she probably would've punched him on the leg. Since she couldn't reach him from where she was sitting, she settled for a glare instead. He only smiled all-but-innocently in return. She had an inkling that this wasn't just about him and Angelina, after all.

Seamus, who was seated on her right, nodded. "It only seems fair, yeah?" he seconded. If only Y/N had known him better, because she wanted to punch him, too.

When the rest of the Gryffindors came to the same decision, Y/N sighed, deciding to give in. "Fine, if you all insist," she said and she reached up to tuck her framing strands of hair behind her ears. She leaned forward and reached into the middle of the circle, trying her hardest not to just stare straight up at George like she was dying to do, and she gave the bottle a good whirl. The second she did, her heart felt like it might jump out of her chest, but when she straightened up again, she tried to keep her cool. Part of her wanted for the bottle to land on George, so she could get the thought of kissing him out of her head, finally, but the other part of her prayed it didn't.

Who knew what a kiss could do to a friendship like theirs?

The group fell silent when the bottle started to slow down and Y/N knew that she wasn't the only one holding her breath. It wasn't until the neck passed George and land on Harry, who sat a few people down from him, did she feel like she could breathe again. Relief washed over her at the fact that whatever she had with George was preserved for a little bit longer, and also because she wouldn't have to kiss anyone too eager.

Harry was the happy medium: cute, respectful, and uncomplicated.

A couple of their friends oohed at the outcome and Y/N couldn't help but grin at the green-eyed boy. "Fancy a peck, Potter?" she asked, ignoring the feeling of George's eyes on her, and she watched as Harry nodded. The corners of his mouth were pulled up in an amused smile and he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Y/N stood up and made her way over to him, before leaning down. She placed her hands on either sides of the Chosen One's face. She quirked her eyebrows up as if to ask if he was ready and he nodded once in response. With that, she pressed a small kiss to his lips. It was short, sweet, and she laughed softly when it was over. "We good?" she questioned, pulling her hands away.

Harry laughed. "We're brilliant," he hummed, before Y/N returned to her spot. He was next to spin the bottle. George hardly even registered it when Harry kissed Alicia next, as he still felt nauseous from watching Y/N kiss someone else. He knew that it was just a silly game amongst friends and that he really had no say in who she kissed or didn't kiss, but it didn't change the fact that it bothered him a little. Y/N, on the other hand, couldn't help but smile when Alicia spun next and wound up kissing Neville. The look on his round face after she'd sat back down beside Ron was just adorable. She swore that girl had left him with stars in his eyes. It was even more precious when Neville's turn landed him a kiss with Hermione.

It was less cute, though, when Hermione spin the bottle and it stopped right on George. The smile that Y/N had been sporting seemed to fall right off of her face, dropping to her feet, along with her stomach. Hermione glanced over at her and smiled awkwardly, knitting her eyebrows together in a way that showed her guilt, but Y/N waved it off. It was just a game. Even so, Y/N wouldn't deny the relief she felt when Hermione chose to kiss him on the cheek, instead.

When it was George's turn to step up, all eyes were on him, including Y/N's. Her mouth felt dry as she watched him from across the circle, his long fingers grabbing the empty bottle, and she swallowed thickly when his eyes flickered to hers. His lips quirked up in a half-smile and he winked at her as he twirled the bottle. She watched in anticipation as it circled around, choosing its next victim, and she was already preparing herself to watch George kiss someone like Alicia when the bottle stopped on the last person she expected.

Her.

Y/N's eyes widened, locked on that glass bottle, and the entire circle either laughed, cheered, or wolf-whistled. No fucking way, she thought to herself as her eyes snapped up to meet George's, which were blown just as wide. This was exactly the kind of opportunity that she'd been waiting for for years, now, but she felt sick to her stomach about it. She had it tangled in her thoughts that this singular moment would make or break them. She took a deep breath as George stood up, reminding herself that it was just a game, but either way, she knew she couldn't have her first kiss with him sitting down. She stood up, too, making her way to the center of the circle and meeting him halfway, her cheeks hot under the feeling of all eyes on her. She wished she'd had more to drink.

Something about George seemed off when she stepped in front of him. He wasn't passed around the school or anything, but she was aware enough to know he'd kissed girls before, but he seemed different, now. He didn't seem to know where to put his hands like he usually did and he swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did. "We don't have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable," he said to her, his eyes searching her own for anything that could give him an out.

It wasn't like he didn't want to kiss Y/N, because Merlin, did he, but after mulling it over in his head for months on end, he didn't want to throw their first one away in a drunken state. He'd always pictured it special, maybe on a day when he finally got the courage to take her to Hogsmeade. He'd take her to a bookstore, because he knew how much she liked to read, and he'd tell her how beautiful she looked when she could take her eyes off the shelves, and when she got all flustered, he'd lean in and kiss her softly. He'd had it all planned out. He'd been mistaken earlier, he figured, when he'd thought that he wanted his turn to be with Y/N, because now that it was, he was regretting joining this game entirely.

Y/N looked up at him with those big eyes that made his insides bubble and she furrowed her eyebrows up at him. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable," she promised, and to prove it, she reached out and placed her hands on either side of his neck, letting her thumbs rest on his cheeks. He resisted the urge to lean into her touch. "So, you ready to kiss me, Weasley?" she questioned, her words betraying her thoughts, and she flashed him a grin.

All of her hopefulness that, maybe, the kiss wouldn't ruin everything, broke away when George hesitated, shaking his head softly. Her smile faltered and her chest clenched. "Not really," he confessed, pouring salt in the wound.

Ouch. She forced a small laugh, ignoring the way a feeling of hurt splintered through her body. and she tilted her head up at him. "It's just a game, right? It doesn't have to mean anything," she said, hoping to coax him into something quick, because it'd be much more embarrassing if he refused to kiss her in front of all of their friends, who were so adamant on the fact that they were in love with each other. It was pretty far-fetched and awfully one-sided, apparently.

Unbeknownst to her, George was screaming at himself inside his head. He knew it was just a game, he knew it didn't have to mean anything, but bloody hell, he wanted it to. He wanted it to mean something. Y/N wasn't the kind of girl you could just kiss and forget about it. If he kissed her he'd be thinking about it until his hair turned gray. "No, Y/N/N, it doesn't feel right," he whispered, hoping she would pick up on the emotion in his voice, but he knew he'd been asking too much when he saw the look that flashed across her face. He felt awful.

So did she, but for entirely different reasons. "Why?" she whispered, tears pricking in the back of her eyes, but she swallowed the knot in her throat, because how she knew how embarrassing it would be if she cried and he didn't kiss her. "Is it just me?" she asked, her mind suddenly racing. "Is there something wrong with me, I—"

She started in on a ramble and George didn't like where it was headed, because it wasn't her. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her, it was just him. It was all in his head. He shook his head at her quickly to cut her off. "No, no, I just—" He sighed. "I don't want it like this," he confessed, a bit louder than he intended to and Y/N's eyes widened.

"What?"

George would've given anything to just stop the game at that point. He was digging a hole for himself that was gonna be real hard to climb out of. "No, I just meant—" Fucking hell. "I—"

He couldn't even finish. Y/N's hands were starting to pull themselves off of his face slightly, her fingertips the only parts of her touching him, now. Honestly, she thought she might be sick. "George, what does that mean?" she asked, not sure if he'd confirmed what everyone had been saying about them all along or if it was just freakishly bad wording.

Too bad he didn't help much with figuring it out. Instead, George shook his head at her. "It doesn't mean anything," he said. "Let's just get on with it."

Before she had a chance to say anything else, George slipped his hand over her cheek, sliding his fingertips into her hair, and he crashed his lips onto hers. When she felt the warmth of his mouth, she almost felt the world stop turning on its axis, and her hands travelled down to his chest, balling up around the fabric of his sweater as she kissed him back. Y/N's heart was soaring as George tilted her head, finding it easier to kiss her at an angle so their noses weren't brushing together. George kissed her with all the passion he could muster up, his stomach flipping as he did, because if this was going to be the first and last time he kissed her, he needed it to be good. He needed to leave her mind reeling.

A couple more seconds passed, before he forced himself to pull away. It took everything in her to keep from pulling him back in for another; their kiss had lasted the longest, anyways. She managed a small smile up at him, which he struggled to return, before they both walked back to their spots on opposite sides of the circle.

Y/N could hardly breathe as she replayed the kiss over in her head again, choosing to pass her next turn to Ginny, because the girl hadn't gone yet and she didn't think she could stomach another kiss with anyone, especially not after the one she'd just had with George. Her heart was still hammering in her ears and she felt like she was floating, still feeling the ghost of his hands in her hair, and even though she'd denied it for so long, she couldn't anymore. She was absolutely in love with that boy.

But when his earlier words settled in, she snapped out of her trance.

It doesn't mean anything.

Had he meant the kiss?

George wasn't doing much better on his side of the circle. In fact, he almost faked an illness to get out of the next round, knowing he'd be absolutely crushed if he had to watch her kiss someone else after that. The relief he'd felt when she passed it off to Ginny was insane. He didn't know where his relationship with Y/N would go from there, though. It was clear to him now that he was head over heels for her—he always had been, really—but the fact that he still couldn't get her off of his mind after a kiss just set it all in stone. He glanced up at her from across the group, his heart stuttering in his chest when he found her already looking. She flashed him that pretty smile and he panicked, averting her gaze, and he almost wanted to smack himself.

Merlin, he didn't know how he was ever gonna face her again when all he could think about was her lips.

—

When Y/N woke up the next morning, she didn't know what she expected the day would bring, but it certainly wasn't Fred sitting in the seat beside hers in Transfiguration. She had walked into the room, ready to smile at George and start talking about their mornings like they usually did, but she felt a bit nervous when she saw that he'd switched places with his brother instead. George was on the other side of the classroom, partnered with Lee Jordan for the day. He watched her as she came in, but before she could even wave, he looked away.

She furrowed her eyebrows, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach, as she walked up to her desk, earning a close-mouthed smile from Fred as she sat her bags down. "Morning. How's the head?" he asked, tapping his index finger to the side of his head and she let out a huff of amusement.

Y/N took her seat next to him and she rested her elbow on the tabletop. "Fine, I didn't drink enough for a hangover," she told him and he nodded once, flicking his quill and watching it circle around his ink pot mindlessly. "Not that complaining, but how come you're not in your normal seat today?" she asked, glancing over at George. He was already looking at her from across the room, his lips set in a slight frown, and she tried to smile at him, but his eyes flickered to his paper before she got the chance. What was with him this morning?

Fred swallowed. "Not sure," he said, though she got the feeling that he was holding back on her. "He said he and Lee were talking last night and it felt like they haven't seen each other in a bit. Wanted to trade for the day," he elaborated and she nodded.

For her sake, she hoped that what he was saying was true, but as they progressed through the day and George had switched his seat in all of the classes they had together, her hopes were dwindling. It was weird not having him there to make her laugh when the lectures got too serious, but Fred was a close second for the time being. He was just as skilled in the art of comedic relief, but he was a lot less dedicated to his assignments than George was. He would nudge Y/N with his knee and ask her for the answer so often, she finally just angled her parchment towards him.

It wasn't to say that she hadn't enjoyed her time with the oldest twin, but by the end of the day, she was more than ready to be back with George the next morning.

It was just her luck, though, that she wound up with Fred the next day, too.

And the next.

And the entire next week, actually.

It wasn't until Y/N was sitting in the library with Hermione and Ginny that she decided that she'd had enough of it. "I just don't understand what his deal is. Like we kissed, I was there, but there's no need for him to keep tiptoeing around me, you know?" she ranted, tearing her eyes away from her open textbook and leaning back in her chair. "I mean, he barely looked at me after it happened and he's barely looked at me since, and I feel weird. It just doesn't feel right to not be next to him all the time," she continued, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and letting out a sigh. "Anyways, what was the question again?" she asked, after taking in Hermione's amused smile and Ginny's look of disgust.

"It was just about the Summoning Charm, but I think we need to wait on it," Hermione answered through a small laugh. "I thought you said you didn't mind the time away from him," she hummed, dipping her quill back into her ink pot.

Y/N let out a sigh and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I didn't, when I thought it was for a day," she explained, her mind trailing back to that first moment of truth in Transfiguration. "He wanted to spend time with Lee and I knew it would've been selfish to act like I was his only friend, so I was fine with it, but now, he's not treating me like I'm his friend at all," she continued, emotion churning in her stomach at the fact that she hadn't spoken to him in a week and a half. Every time she tried, he just walked away before she got to him or made up an excuse to leave. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't the least bit hurt by it.

"No offense, but what made you think you'd just go back to being friends after that night?" Ginny asked, sticking a ribbon in her textbook to mark the page and flipping it shut. The girl leaned forward, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

Her eyes widened at the question. "I mean, it was a only a kiss."

Ginny shot her a look. "You're a right liar," she singsonged, a smirk playing on her lips, and she glanced at Hermione, who wore a similar smile. "I think you forget we were there, too. Witnessed the whole thing, actually," she said, scrunching her nose up a bit as she did, and Hermione let out a laugh. "I was a bit worried you'd rip his jumper off in front of us, if I'm being honest," she teased.

Y/N felt her face go hot and her jaw dropped. "I would not have ripped his—"

She was cut off when Ginny shot up in her seat. "Look at your face!" she whisper-yelled, in order to keep Madam Pince's attention off of them, and she pointed her finger. Her cheeks only darkened at that. "You're mad if you think your kiss was friendly. It was the most heated one in that whole game." Maybe there was a bit of truth to her words, because as she recalled, the kisses following were nothing but light-hearted pecks.

"She's got a point," Hermione joined in. "You've been in love with each other for years. I just know you poured months worth of feelings into that kiss," she said.

Y/N could feel her heart fluttering inside of her chest as they spoke and she replayed her kiss with George inside of her head. The way she'd grabbed onto his sweater and pulled him closer to her, the way his hands had been tangled in her hair, the way her toes had curled, and the way her stomach had done summersaults made so much more sense now. He'd kissed her with so much emotion, so much passion, and she'd kissed him back with equal need, just wanting him to know how much she loved him without saying the words, but maybe that's why it was bothering her so much to be apart from him now.

Because he hadn't picked up on it.

"Well, you've seen him," she said. "He's kissed girls before, so what makes me any different? Plus, he's a passionate person, maybe that's all it was," she protested, the feeling that she'd fucked everything up still swimming in her bloodstream.

The girls shot her a look. "You're different because he cares about you," Hermione said, her tone softer now. Y/N looked down at her words, her head spinning slightly as she wondered whether or not it was true, and the young witch placed a hand on top of hers. "You don't see the way he looks at you when you're not paying attention, or how he talks about you when you're not around. He's so taken with you," she explained.

Y/N wanted nothing more than to believe her, but she'd wanted this—wanted him—for so long that it seemed too good to be true. She looked up from her hand, ready to rebut her words, but Ginny stepped in before she could. "If only you could see him on holiday when you're at your parents'. Absolutely hopeless, that one," she explained, but she couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "'Y/N loves this', 'Y/N would like that', and 'I wish Y/N was here'. Oh, and I can't forget my favorite: 'Where's the owl, I've got to write to Y/N', while he's barreling over Ron and Percy in the kitchen. It's quite funny," she explained.

Y/N's heart pattered quickly and she felt a little breathless as Ginny talked about how George was at home. "He does all that?" she asked quietly, chills spreading through her body.

Ginny nodded. "Mum can't wait until you two get together. She's dying to have another girl in the family," she explained, and Y/N couldn't help but smile. She was starting to think that even though George had always felt so far out of her reach...

Maybe he wasn't.

—

George and his possible feelings for her had stayed on Y/N's mind through the rest of her study session with the girls, and as she'd sat in the dining hall that night for dinner, she still hadn't been able to get him out of her head. She'd picked at her food with her golden fork absentmindedly, rolling a potato back and forth across her plate, and she'd barely eaten anything by the time everyone was heading back to their common rooms.

"I was thinking we'd get Snape again," Fred said as he walked with her back to the Gryffindor tower, talking to her about who he planned to slime next. She loved the guy, really, but she'd spent almost all of her time with him in the last week and a half. She'd sat with him in all of their classes, hung out with him during their free period, and he'd even taken to eating all three meals of the day with her. She knew that he was just trying to help, to take her mind off of his brother for the time being, but with the whole identical twin thing, it really just made her miss George even more.

Fred was great, but he wasn't the same. Fred wouldn't hug her so tight that all of her doubts would dissolve in thin air, or keep a protective arm around her at all times, or kiss her forehead. He wouldn't sneak into her dorm for a late night chat on her mattress, or talk about what his future would be like with her, or make her feel special like George did.

In fact, she was quite sure that Fred didn't even know her favorite color.

Y/N could still hear Fred talking, rambling on about his strategy to set up his bucket in a place where Snape walked through frequently, but she was hardly listening. She was too busy wrapped up in her thoughts, wondering why George had just completely shut her out. In the beginning, he would at least send her a longing glance or two, but now she got nothing.

It just didn't make sense, especially not after what Ginny had told her earlier.

"Does George love me?" she asked all of the sudden, the words leaving her lips before she truly had the chance to process them, and she cut Fred off mid sentence.

He nearly tripped over his own two feet, before he looked over at her and laughed softly. "Does George, my idiot brother, love you, the girl he spends all his bloody time with?" he asked, making pointing gestures with his hands and furrowing his eyebrows slightly. She nodded at him, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Are you blind? 'Course he loves you," he assured her like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and it could've been, honestly. He was a bit surprised that she'd even asked at all, but then again, he forgot how clueless she was on her own.

Y/N let out a sigh at Fred's answer, because it wasn't worded the way she'd wanted it to be, not that she knew what that was, but it just didn't satisfy her. "No," she groaned, running a frustrated hand through her hair as they walked. "I mean, is he in love with me?" she asked, looking over at him with pleading eyes.

Fred shot her a look, before he nodded once. "Yeah," he hummed with no hesitation and she felt her heart rate pick up. "I know what you meant," he elaborated, and she blinked at him, forcing her gaze to where they were walking again

"Really?" she asked quietly, almost breathlessly, and Fred nodded again. "Ginny wasn't lying?"

"Guess not," the redhead hummed, scratching the back of his neck. "I mean, everyone knows. We've known you two were mad for each other for a while now. I've got bets on when you're getting together," he confessed, a teasing tone laced in his voice, and her eyes widened. Had she really had him this whole time? She wanted to hang her head against the wall for being so oblivious. If she had known sooner, she might've done something about it.

It might've been too late, now, though.

She'd gone and muddied everything up.

Y/N swallowed thickly. "If that's true, why's he been ignoring me lately?" she asked.

Fred looked over at her with tender eyes and a small smile. He'd been expecting her to ask that for a while now, but it was about time. "Look," he started as they started up the stairs in the corridor. "George isn't so strong and courageous like me, you know," he started, not seriously, but it still made her roll her eyes. "He's nervous and soft-hearted, which I'm sure you've picked up on." She definitely had. He was definitely a gentler force than Fred, like a soft rain to his brother's thunderstorm. "He gets his feelings hurt easier, he overthinks things, and he's so very oblivious, love. Sometimes you just need to tell him what's on your mind straight up," he said as he led her up to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He muttered the password to her and she swung open for them. "This is one of those times."

She wasn't really sure what Fred had meant by all of that. All she'd done was kiss George in the midst of a stupid, teenage game, she didn't understand how she might've hurt his feelings or made him feel like she didn't want to be around him, because that was all she wanted. All the time, too. She nodded her head, regardless, and followed the boy through the portrait hole. "So, what am I supposed to do?" she asked as they walked further into the common room. She was about to get her answer from Fred when someone slammed a book shut. Her eyes flickered to the couch in front of the fireplace where George seemed to have been studying.

George had been there all night, waiting for her to come back from dinner. He'd decided that morning that he was sick of wallowing in his thoughts about what had happened all those days ago and he missed talking to her, missed being with her. It'd been painful for him to watch her spend all of her time with his brother instead of him, like it should've been, especially when they'd looked so cozy together at the party, but as he watched them walk in together, her cheeks just as pink as they had been that night, irrational anger spread through his body.

He'd closed his textbook loudly and stood up, no longer in the mood to speak to her, or Fred, for that matter.

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed and her lips parted as George stormed past in a fit of anger, her protests lost on her tongue, and she swiveled back towards Fred. She'd never seen George like that, and she wanted to call after him, but she couldn't find the words so quickly, and she didn't want to just abandon Fred, but—

He cut her thoughts short with a nod towards the portrait hole as George disappeared through it. "Go. Tell him how you feel," he encouraged her, sending a sudden wave of confidence through her body. It spread through her nerves and left goosebumps in its wake, and she nodded.

Y/N flashed Fred a small smile, before she took off after George.

—

Y/N wasn't quite sure how George had gotten so far in such little time—she'd chalk it up to his long legs, maybe—but when she found him, he was pacing back and forth in an empty corridor a few floors beneath the tower, carding his fingers through his red hair as he immersed himself in his thoughts. He hardly even noticed she was there until she stepped a bit closer to him. "What the hell is your problem, George Weasley?" she started, the confidence that had been building up when she'd come after him having turned into pent-up annoyance.

His eyes shot up from the floor and he rolled his eyes when he registered that it was her. "You know what?" he asked breathlessly, more to himself than her, and he let out a bitter laugh. "You're my bloody problem, Y/N," he snapped and it was like a lash from a whip.

She flinched at his words, feeling the sting despite the distance between them, and all of that fire she'd had a moment ago dissipated. In all of the time that she'd known him, he had never spoken to her like that, even when he was angry at her, he'd never called her the problem. He'd never jabbed at her like that. Her eyebrows furrowed and her chest clenched as she looked at him, his face contorted in exasperation. "I'm your problem?" she asked, her surprise masking the hurt. "I don't even know what I did to you," she continued, acutely aware of how hard her heart was racing and how knotted up her stomach felt.

George wasn't doing much better. He was quick to shove the sleeves of his uniform up to his elbows in frustration, bringing his hands to his tie and loosening it up, because he felt so warm all of the sudden. He knew he was being stupid and overreacting at something that probably wasn't even happening, but he'd planted this seed in his own head at the party and he couldn't get it out. He'd made a mistake switching seats with Fred that day, because seeing his twin make her laugh like he did stung. It was like he'd provided her with his own bloody replacement. He hated it.

It wasn't her fault that Fred inevitably became everyone's favorite after some measure of time, but he figured that for Y/N, maybe it'd been the couple of years she'd favored George. "I haven't stopped thinking about it, Y/N, okay?" he blurted, running his hands up his face and through his hair, and he could see the look of blatant confusion on her face. She was about to open her mouth and ask him what he meant, but he beat her to it. "The kiss," he explained, "because I felt something and I thought you did, too, but then, I'd see you with Fred and I wouldn't know what to tell myself," he confessed and it made her head spin.

Y/N's eyes widened at his words and she practically gaped at him. "Wait, Fred?" she asked, almost wondering if she'd heard him right, because she hadn't even realized that Fred was a factor in this. George nodded once and she sputtered out a laugh in disbelief. "Hold on, what makes you think Fred—"

"You've been ignoring me for him for days!"

Oh, he did not.

She reeled back in disbelief, steadying herself against the side of the corridor. "Me?" she repeated, pointing to her chest. "Don't you dare try to put this on me when it was your idea to swap places with him in the first place! You've been avoiding me, you idiot," she yelled, her voice echoing through the hallway, and she would've been surprised that Filch hadn't dragged them away if she wasn't so worked up.

"How is it all my fault when you've barely reached out?" George retaliated, taking a few steps closer to her, and she wanted to pull her hair out.

"I'm not going to waste my time chasing after someone who can't stand to be near me," she explained, "And I didn't know how you expected me to fix this between us, okay?" she said, her voice cracking over the question and she sighed. She tilted her chin up so she could blink back tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. "I'm sorry, George," she added, all the anger in her voice having fallen away. She didn't want to fight with him anymore, she just wanted things to go back to normal, and if that meant taking the blame for the entire situation, then so be it.

George felt his heart sink at that, his eyebrows knitting together. "Wait, so you do want to be with Fred?" he asked, the volume having lowered in his voice. She shot him a look of disgust, quickly shutting down his theory about his brother. "For what, then? Kissing me? I don't understand," he continued, his stomach twisting as he spoke, because he hoped it wasn't that, either.

Y/N pushed herself off of the wall slightly, reaching out to take one of his hands in hers. Her heart took flight inside of her chest at the feeling, as it was the first time she'd touched him in what felt like forever. "What? No, I'll never be sorry for kissing you, it's just," she paused, glancing down at the space between his shoes and hers, "Ginny told me you loved me and I just— I was going to try George, I swear, but then you freaked and ran out and—" she cut herself off, pulling her hand back from his and shoving it into her hair. "I should've tried harder, I guess, and maybe—"

George hardly heard anything after he'd heard that Ginny ratted him out. With wide eyes, he couldn't help but ask, "She told you?" His throat moved as he swallowed thickly. "Godric, I'm gonna—"

"No, it's a good thing," she said quickly, pulling her hand out of her hair and holding it out in front of her almost defensively. "I'm just sorry for being so bloody clueless and too worried that you wouldn't feel the same way I did to not tell you," she confessed, and George pinched his arm behind his back to make sure he wasn't dreaming (he wasn't). "And if you're still worried about Fred, I don't care about him, okay?" she blurted, before she realized how it sounded, and her eyes widened. She covered her mouth briefly. "Okay, I do, but not like I care about you, I mean, Fred isn't even an option. Merlin, nobody else is even an option, because it's you, George. I..." she trailed off, staring up at him in search of any sign that she shouldn't say it, that she shouldn't tell him, but all she found was a look of anticipation, and she couldn't help but smile. "I love you," she whispered, tears prickling in the spaces behind her eyes, and she reached out to grab the hem of his sweater.

George didn't say anything immediately, or even for the next minute. He just took a step forward and looked at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish until he figured out what he wanted to say. "So, that's it, then?" he hummed after a while and she nodded. "You love me?" She nodded again and he smiled slightly, his heart feeling like it might explode. "I reckon I still need you to prove it," he whispered, taking another step closer to her and forcing her to take one backwards, her shoulders pressing against the wall.

She couldn't help but shake her head up at him as he slid one of his arms around her waist, her hands reaching up to cup his cheeks. His skin was warm in her palms and he leaned into her touch, his eyelids fluttering shut, and she brushed her thumbs over a spray of freckles. "I really do love you, Georgie," she whispered and his breath hitched in his throat. With that, Y/N pulled him down to press a kiss against his mouth and this kiss was less eager than the last. There was no question that this wouldn't be their final kiss together, so there was no rush.

George's lips were soft and his kiss was slow, and sweet, drawing her in with every peck. He leaned her back against the wall softly, tilting his head as his mouth slanted over her own, and he braced his arm on the wall above her. After he let her slide her fingers into his hair and thread them through it for a bit, he pulled away gently, his brown eyes staring into her own, and he smiled.

"I love you, too, darling."

↴

author's note / this was a long one, but i think it was worth it. tag list in the comments! :)

#george weasley #george weasley imagines #george weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x reader #oliver phelps #oliver phelps imagines #oliver phelps x reader #james phelps

728 notes · View notes

cursestothemoon · 3 years

Text

All My Love, Dad

Requested: Yes

Fred Weasley x Sirius Black’s Daughter

Warning: Death, alludes to sex, suggestive moments

Word Count: 3218

Summary: Fred Weasley is dating Azkaban escapee’s daughter Y/n Black. They are hiding their relationship form her ever fear inducing father, Snuffles. Though the unexpected happens leading Fred and Y/n to almost drown in guilt.

✧✧✧

“Wait, Fred-”

“No one’s up here, love, I checked.”

“No Fred, I think someo-”

“Hey!”

Fred let out a loud gasp before shoving you off of him. You stumbled back, both your hands shooting out to smooth out the wrinkles in your clothes hoping to Merlin it looked as innocent as you hoped.

The girlish giggle was what made you slump your shoulders realizing who it was, the bright pink hair a dead give away.

“Tonks! Merlin I thought y-”

She cut you off, “Thought I was your dad.”

You nodded sheepishly.

“This is cute,” She gestured between Fred and yourself. “Anyway, you’re not in the clear yet. He was coming up right behind me.”

Her words were enough to light a fire under you, making you stumble out of the closet and to the otherside of the room. Just in time too, seeing as your dad waltzed up the steps to the second floor.

“Sirius!” Fred said, hand coming up to pat down his hair that you ran your hand through just moments before.

Your dad looked at him, face creased with confusion, before mimicking his tone, “Fred!”

Fred gave a nervous laugh but kept quiet, your dad continued.

“Breakfast is going to be ready soon. I’d get in before anyone else, today we have pancakes.” He smiled before turning and leaving, the hall back to just you, Fred, and Tonks.

Fred let out a breath, shoulders slumping as he moved from in front of the closet to your side. He let his head fall to your shoulder, a loud groan coming from him as you laughed.

“Smooth, Fred.”

He winced, “Shut up.”

Fred and you had been dating for nearly five months now, having been friends for well over a year before. You were sorted into Gryffindor and both of you had been aware of the other but it wasn’t until your fourth year (his fifth) that you two became friends. He had fallen for you before you even thought about him any way other than platonically. The Yule Ball was what made you realize your feelings, he had asked Angelina Johnson to be his date and the little green monster bubbling inside of you at the sight of them dancing was too powerful to deny.

With all events following, it wasn’t until the near end of your fifth year when you decided to make a move. Luckily, he and Angelina were just good friends and nothing more came of it. You noticed his subtle hints and more than friendly gestures, all while being Sirius’ daughter you were well aware that you weren’t ugly by any means. You just hoped you weren't wrong.

You weren’t.

It had only been three months of dating at Hogsmeade, one month apart over summer, and since a week ago you have been living together until the start of term. This brings you to just twenty five minutes ago when you had been on your way to the kitchen when a mysterious force pulled you into a closet off the side of the hallway. The mysterious force turned out to be a very handsy Fred Weasley. He told you everyone was already down and it was just you two up there before he attacked your lips.

You two had to play innocent this past week, your ever protective father still unknowing of your relationship with the gentle giant. It definitely didn’t help that Fred was deathly afraid of what your father might say when he finds out that he had been romantically involved with his only daughter.

“He was in Azkaban, Y/n! Who knows what he's learned or seen in there!” Fred said, eyes wide.

You shook your head with a laugh, “Fred, he’s harmless really.”

“He’s got tattoos on his chest! And- and he was raised in a very well off household. He could kill me then scoop my eyes out with a spoon worth more than me and George combined!”

“You are overreacting just a tad, how scary could he be? He goes by Snuffles.”

Fred was adamant on keeping his eyes so he was very well behaved, that is until today when he felt as though if he didn’t kiss you soon he’d combust. Poor boy nearly had a heart attack, though, when the closet door opened.

You were now sitting at the kitchen table with Fred across from you. Breakfast had been finished and now everyone (members of the Order and such) were all in their own conversations. The only one not partaking in communicating being you and Fred, preferring to play footsie under the table whilst smirking at each other.

“You two make me sick. Enough I had to deal with it at school, now where I eat? Disgusting.” George teased from next to Fred making him shoot up immediately and look over to your dad who was, thankfully, still in the middle of a conversation with Remus and Harry.

“Don’t be so loud!” Fred whisper-yelled.

George laughed, “Your bedroom eyes were loud enough.”

That comment earned him a sharp kick to the shin from you. He sent you a playful glare before moving to stand up.

“Well, I’m going to work on some products. Fred, feel free to join.”

Fred watched as George left then turned to look at you with a smile, “You know if I don’t go one of us will end up with green hair.”

“Please, not again.” You begged with a smile playing on your lips as Fred started to walk out of the room, turning back to blow you a kiss just as he passed through the door and was hidden from Sirius

The rest of your time at Grimmauld Place went by in the same fashion. Fred and you had gotten a bit more confident with sneaking around right under your father’s nose. The day had finally come for you to return to Hogwarts and while you were excited, a part of you dreaded it. You weren’t allowed to send or receive letters from your father seeing as it would be far too risky considering everyone still saw him as an escaped murderer.

Sirius wasn’t allowed to go to King’s cross initially, but he found a loophole and was fed up with being cooped up at home so you got to say goodbye to him just before boarding the train. The shaggy haired black dog had led you into an empty room at the train station, luckily the area that seemed to be a lounge had been empty allowing your father to turn back into a man rather than bark out his farewell.

You were quick to wrap your arms around him, face nuzzling into his hair as he held you tightly.

“Be good, my girl. And take care of Harry, I can’t imagine the stress he’s under.”

He smiled as you nodded, your eyes welling with tears. His hands came up to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the few tears that had fallen.

“We’ll see each other again, don’t cry.”

“It’s just hard knowing I won’t be able to write to you.” You said looking down.

Sirius smiled gently, “Here, I've got something for you…”

His hand dipped into the pocket of his robe, pulling out a mirror.

“It’s charmed. If you say the name of the person who has the other mirror you can see them. There are three mirrors, I have one, now you, and I’m thinking of giving Harry the third one for Christmas.”

The smirk on your father’s face made you smile, he was a thoughtful man, confident, boisterous, and thoughtful.

Your farewells were short, needing not to miss the train back to school. It was with a final pat to the black dog that you boarded the train, stepping into a compartment with Fred, George, and Lee.

Fred pulled you toward him as you walked in, grumbling out, “Finally.”

Umbridge was revolting, classes were as mundane as ever with no OWLs to worry over, and Fred and George had told you their plans for after Christmas holiday. To say you were feeling rather ruddy would be an understatement. Of course you supported Fred and George, more than anything in the world, but you worried that if you couldn’t tell your father about your relationship with the older twin soon, the very relationship would crumble under the stress of not only distance but also paranoia.

“What are you thinking in that pretty little head of yours?” Fred asked, finger coming up to gently poke your forehead.

“You, of course.” You smirked, his expression mirroring yours.

You were in the train on your way back to Grimmauld Place for the Christmas holiday, and neither you nor Fred were feeling excited about having to start acting as good friends with each other.

“I knew it, you had a twinkle in your eye.”His voice was smug, making you roll your eyes.

“I did not you twat.”

Fred pulled you into his side with one arm, the other going to tickle your sides with vigor.

“Let go, you’ll ruin my hair!” You stated, words muffled by his sweater.

Fred stopped for a moment though his hold persisted, “Mmm… only if you promise me your New Years kiss.”

“Alright, I promise.”

“And say I’m the best and smoothest boyfriend in the whole wide world.”

“No.”

His fingers inched closer and closer back to your side.

“Fine! You’re the best and smoothest boyfriend in the whole wide world, please let me go, love.”

Fred smiled, letting you go from his grasp only letting you get far enough so he could pull you into a kiss making the other two people in your compartment groan.

“You think this is bad? I’ve got to live with them over holiday, and when I’m not seeing her I’m definitely hearing about her.”

George dodged Fred’s fist as he snickered, but wasn’t so lucky when his older twin stood up and tackled him. Lee yelped and made his way over to you on the other side, out of the way of flailing limbs and rowdy twins.

“Are they always like this?” Lee said in a low voice, leaning closer to you.

You nodded, “It’s worse when they are hungry.”

Lee laughed, starting to chant ‘fight’ as the twins smacked each other around andyou couldn’t help but chuckle along.

The house was the same as you left it, old and dusty, but your father had taken it upon himself to decorate almost every square inch of the house in handmade Christmas decorations, surely a product of his boredom.

Christmas had gone by far too quickly for anyone's liking and your dad’s once joyful caroling that could be heard throughout the house fizzled out, replaced by a more somber mood due to the impending solitude. He seemed to chiper up today, rightfully so, it was New Years eve.

Everyone had gathered around the fireworks in the main sitting room, the twins had conjured up sparkly gold fireworks that would countdown to midnight, they shimmered at eleven now.

“Ten!”

You smiled, hand going to grab hold of Harry’s and Ron’s forearms in excitement.

“Nine!”

The giddiness was undeniable.

“Eight!”

Sirius caught your eye and winked with a small smile.

“Seven!”

You looked around trying to find Fred.

“Six!”

He was standing with George and Ginny.

“Five!”

“Four!”

“Three!”

He looked at you, lips curling into a smile.

“Two!”

You moved to walk toward him, if this was how people found out then so be it.

“One! Happy New Year!”

Fred seemed to understand the look in your eye and maybe it was the way everyone else seemed to lean to a loved one for a kiss, or the adrenaline of a New Year and waiting war but he wasn’t going to back down. Instead he stood there, leaning his head back ever so slightly as his hands went to rest in his pockets and he gave you a look that said,

Come on. Do it.

And you were going to, really you were, but your father had gotten to you before you could reach Fred.

“Happy New Year, my girl.” Sirius smiled, leaning down to peck you forehead.

It seemed as though no one wanted you to kiss Fred for the New Year because you were then pulled into the kitchen by Molly and Tonks to help pass out the pastries. You looked to Fred with an apologetic look as you were being guided to the kitchen, but he just smiled and motioned for you to go do what you needed to do.

It wasn’t until everyone had gone to bed and you were putting away the last few dishes that Fred had found his way to you. You jumped at the feeling of hands wrapping around your waist from behind but relaxed once you felt the familiarly calloused hand slip under your shirt and rest on your bare hip.

“I believe you have a promise to fulfill.” Fred whispered, warm breath hitting the shell of your ear.

You decided to play coy, “I do? Shame I can’t remember what it was.”

Fred spun you around to face him, grabbing the plate out of your hand and placing it on the counter behind you.

“Guess I’ll just have to remind you.” Fred smirked.

His hands came up to cup your face, pulling your lips closer to his as you both closed your eyes. But he stopped just as your lips had brushed and you had to force yourself not to groan.

“Or maybe I’ll just wait until you remember.” His lips were so close you felt each word as he said them.

“Kiss me or I swear to Merlin Weasley I’ll scream.” You said, eyebrows raised and a devious smile on your lips.

Fred let out a breathy laugh before smashing his lips to yours, one hand sliding down your side to snake behind your waist to pull you closer, your body now completely against his as the kiss deepened. Your hands traveled up his torso before finding their way to his neck, thumbs gently caressing the soft skin. You could feel Fred start to smile into the kiss, inevitably making you start to do the same before he pulled away slowly.

His eyes sparkled with an emotion unknown as he grinned down at you, his thumb moving against your cheekbone.

“I love you, you know?” He said, voice soft.

Your breath hitched ever so slightly. Sure you knew you loved him and you only hoped he felt the same but your relationship was never heavy on verbal affirmations of love, both of you preferring to show each other your love rather than say it. So the proclamation of love was a bit shocking to you.

“This would be the time you said it back, Y/n.” He laughed, but the nervousness was now radiating off of him in waves as you realized you took a bit too long to respond.

“I love- I love you Freddie.” You stuttered, still shocked that by the words you were hearing.

Fred loved you.

It was with a few more kisses and quite a few more whispers of loving the other that you two tiptoed to your separate rooms, hand in hand. And maybe if you weren’t in such a lovesick haze you’d notice the silver lighter on the floor by the doorway.

The crowd that had gathered in the courtyard was electric, everyone was clapping as Fred and George rode off into the horizon on their brooms, a shimmering ‘W’ left in their wake. You could’ve only hoped that the day would’ve continued on just as light hearted.

Instead, you were now fitting death eaters in the department of mysteries at the Ministry. All hope seemingly being lost until the Order arrived, and you and your father fought in great synchronicity Harry even joining in exceptional smoothness. You guys were sure to win.

Right?

And suddenly…

A victory didn’t matter, not as you watched a spell hit your father in the chest sending him stumbling through the eerie veil. It was immediate, as he crossed through the silvery tendril of mist he was pulled away, almost like a handful of sand in the wind.

You pushed and shoved the arms that had found their way around you, he couldn’t have just...gone away.

“Y/n, no!” It was Tonks, her voice sounded like it was coming from inside a fishbowl.

Harry’s screams combined with yours as you were both held back by someone. You couldn’t help but feel the guilt rise in your belly, you didn’t even tell him…

“Just a few more boxes!” You called down to Remus from your room.

You and Fred were packing your things to leave Grimmauld place. You were set to move in with Remus, your godfather, due to the passing of your father. Term had ended and both you and Fred had decided to let everyone know about your relationship. Fred felt insanely guilty about keeping you from telling your father, but you were quick to tell him that there was no way of knowing what would happen, he had no reason to be so hard on himself.

“Darling, here are your letters.” He said, passing you a stack of letters.

You looked at them quizzically, “These aren-”

The words were caught in your throat as you looked at the writing on the first letter, it was your name in your dad’s handwriting.

“They’re from my dad.” You muttered looking at Fred.

Fred walked over to you and placed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll give you a minute.” He smiled gently before leaving you alone in the room.

The next fifteen minutes was spent reading the letters, starting from the oldest. By the time you reached the last one, dated a week before he died and the only one written after Christmas holiday, you had already laughed and cried at your dad’s words. You never knew he’d write you letters he couldn’t send, the thought of him hunched over the parchment all alone in the house while you were at school made your heart ache.

You let out a sigh, ready to open the last letter.

Dear Y/N,

It’s been awfully lonely in the house since everyone has left but I’m managing, at least all the mirrors seem to have a very handsome man living in them. I do miss you, my girl, and count the days until we can see each other again. Kreacher has been very quiet lately, though the occasional grunts tell me he is still, unfortunately, alive.

I hope school is going well for you. It really is a shame that I won’t get a response to my letters, but I guess it is sort of therapeutic to write them to you. Merlin, your poor old father is starting to sound like a ninny. I’ll work on that before you get back, don’t worry.

Kreacher woke up your dear Granny again, so I apologize for such a short letter though you aren't going to receive it so I guess it won’t matter much, huh? Make sure you take care of Harry, you two really only have each other in these odd times.

Also, tell Mr. Weasley that him and I ought to have a chat if he is going to snog my daughter in my own kitchen.

All my love,

Dad

#Fred Weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x sirius' daughter

397 notes · View notes

meteor752 · 3 years

Text

Dsmp Hogwarts AU, except it’s all the characters and I go into why they are what they are, please reblog this took a long ass time

Man, what a title Huh? Anyways, this will obviously go over the characters and not the content creators, because in some cases those are vastly different

Also, before we start, I will go over an important thing that I will mention probably a few times, and that is the difference between Hufflepuff Loyalty and Slytherin Loyalty.

Both of these houses value loyalty, but in very different ways. Take for example that you’re a spy who has their best friend as their partner, and you’re out on some super important mission. Let’s also say that your partner got shot and is close to death, and the only way to save them would be to abandon the mission entirely.

A Hufflepuff would try to complete the mission because it would be the best for all, while the Slytherin would abandon the mission despite the fact that it could result in countless deaths, just to save their friend.

See it as Selfish Loyalty vs Selfless loyalty. Both are great things to have, but are still different.

Anyways, on with the show

Tomathy Danger Kraken Careful Innit

I have seen people try to argue that this boy is a Hufflepuff because of his loyalty and such, but gosh darnit everyone this child is a god damn Gryffindor. I mean, one of his main character traits is that he’s brash and too brave for his own good. The reason he got fucking exiled is because he burned down George’s house without thinking of the consequences, and then just screamed at Dream without thinking of the consequences. The same goes for Ghostbur’s “death”, it was because he had no real plan except Stab Dream with an axe. So yeah, Gryffindor

Wilbur Soot

Slytherin, 100%. This man has created one and a half nation, one entirely out of spite, he was both a general and a president, he’s a smart lil fella, and he managed to hold his own against the god of the server. I don’t even thing you guys wanna argue with me here

Tuberculosis Underscore

This one is tricky, because it’s really between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw for me. Like, he does possess the Hufflepuff loyalty™ plus he is very kind, but he’s also one of the more logical and observant characters we have in this server (The bar is very low let me tell ya). But I think I will have to go with Ravenclaw, just because like, the boy invented nukes. He built fucking nukes. So yeah, a very chaotic Ravenclaw that will spout bee facts at you, be prepared

Technoblade

My man is a Ravenclaw, no doubt about it. I mean, he started talking about an old greek myth in the middle of a war? Just Ravenclaw things amiright?

Philza Minecraft

I will have to go with Slytherin on this one, simply because of the large amount of Slytherin Loyalty, but also because of his cunningness and resourcefulness, but for real this was very tricky, simply because I don’t like to think about c!Phil too much because as some of you may know, I kinda hate him (Not the cc though, obvs, he’s awesome)

Ranboo My Beloved

Hufflepuff. This boy’s ideology is literally “Choose people, not sides”, he’s an honest and compassionate boy who works hard, and has a very open mind. He’s literally the by the book Hufflepuff

Eret

Honestly, Slytherin. I mean, they are ambitious as fuck, both shown by them betraying L’Manburg for the throne, but also by working hard towards their redemption arc. They are also a good leader of the smp, and in general a great role model to have

Nikki Nihachu

This one is actually difficult, simply because Nikki has gone through quite the character arc the past couple of months. She started out kind, sweet and loyal, a classic Hufflepuff. Then she joined the syndicate and straight up tried to kill a child, which is less Hufflepuff but who am I to judge. But in her core, as seen through her discussion with Jack about Tommy’s revival, she is still a good person that works hard for what she believes in, wants the best for everyone (Despite sometimes working in her best self interest) remains kind through it all. So yeah, Nikki is a Hufflepuff, just a bit of a sadistic one. But we can’t all be perfect ya know?

Fun Jonathan Michael Vincent Georgina James Sus Dy Soot

Ah, my favorite character, and also one of the best examples of a Ravenclaw. And I ain’t saying that just cuz I’m a Ravenclaw, Fundy is one of the most Ravenclaw characters out there. He’s creative, Clever, Spontaneous, Witty, Curious, Sharp, and a real trickster. The idea of Ravenclaws being the goody two shoes kids that always does their school work is just false, we never do our Homework and instead sit and read about things we find interesting, and Fundy is a good example of that. Also he was quite the eager learner during the Dreamon Hunters arc, which again is a good example of a Ravenclaw. So if Ranboo is the by the book Hufflepuff, then Fundy is the by the book Ravenclaw.

Dreamwastaken

I’m pretty sure it’s confirmed that Dream is actually a Slytherin, and I ain’t arguing with that. This boy is cunning, sly, a leader, traditional, Self-Preserving, and a master with words. There is not much more to say here, apart from the fact that Slytherins main colour is literally green, so it all checks out, this boy is a snake.

George Lore

Mr not found over here really is hard to pinpoint down, simply because his main character trait is his apathy, which isn’t really a trait for any of the houses. I was discussing this one with my girlfriend, and both of us were pretty clueless of what to do with him. I was thinking if Hufflepuff since they take the ones that don’t fit anywhere else, but then I was reminded of the most recent Dream XD stream, which showed us one thing, and that is that George is clever, observant, and Sharp Minded, all the traits of a Ravenclaw. Sure, he could also be Slytherin as he was both cunning and sly as well, but I think Ravenclaw fits him more personally.

Sappitus Nappitus Boyhalo

Finally we have another Gryffindor, there’s been a serious lack of them on the list. My man is a fighter, he’s bold, he’s brave, he’s passionate, he’s confident, and he doesn’t really think that much of the consequences of his actions (Cough the pet war cough), so yeah this boy a lion.

Punz

Ah, Punzie, the mercenary themself. Tbh, I know very little about them because Punz don’t get involved that much in lore unless they are hired for something. I mean, they were in the eggpire, but even then they were barely involved, which is sad cuz I like Punz. But what we have seen of Punz is that they are someone who does not care about you or what you want, as long as you pay them. They are power hungry and self preserving, which means that I have to put them in Slytherin.

Jack Thunder1408 TV Manifold

The boy who I can’t help but be sympathetic towards. Jack is also a hard character to pin point because of the reason that he’s gone through quite the development. Jackie boy is a very broken character that has literally been through hell, so it’s hard to properly sort him. He’s quite confident and clever, yet cunning and resourceful, so for me it’s either Slytherin or Gryffindor. But I do lean towards Gryffindor more, partly because of his stubbornness and gullibility, and part because of all the fire imagery that’s associated with him. I mean, the cc described him as burning inside, he’s been through the scape of fire and death, and he burnt his nation to the ground. In case you didn’t know, Fire is the element of Gryffindor, so yeah, another red and gold boy.

JSchlatt

Schlatt is as both charming, charismatic and calm in the early days, using subtle manipulation tactics to get his way and achieve ultimate power. He’s ambitious, narcissistic, cunning, and tyrannical, while still hiding it all behind a facade of smiles and waves. He could also be both cruel and irresponsible at times, aka the time he had an underage child drink during an event, but ya know, mistakes. So all in all, I think it’s pretty clear that he’s a Snakey boy.

QuackityHQ

As much as I love CC!Quackity, I also fucking hate him because of the many, many different directions he’s taken this character which makes it possible for him to fit in literally any of the houses. The duckie is both Chaotic and lawful, he’s both friendly and hostile, he’s a smart cookie and a fucking dumbass, so like bruh. But, I’m gonna have to go with how he is now, which is manipulative, power hungry, cruel, and strong willed. Aka, another Slytherin.

Karl Jacobs

Finally, a character that is not broken down to the point of barely making out a readable personality. Karl is a kind and funny person, who is very open to new people considering how often he gives tours to visitors and new people, and he is quite literally loosing himself traveling through time in an attempt to help people. Hufflepuff

Awesamdude

This one I know will be controversial, but I’m saying Hufflepuff on him. Sam is one of the best cases of the Hufflepuff loyalty, literally letting both Tommy and Ghostbur be stuck and ultimately die in the prison just so he wouldn’t risk Dream breaking out. Before that point he was very kind and gentle towards Tommy, literally building a robot to keep him safe and take care of him. Sam nook is a reflection of Sam’s feelings towards Tommy, and they are kind and gentle.

Dropsbyponk

Ughhhh, another tough one. Ponk is a chaotic being who is mostly neutral in conflicts, but is shown to be very open about their feelings towards those they care about, like Sam or Foolish. They seem to be have strong feelings in what they believe in, and can be a bit brash sometimes, not really caring about the consequences of their actions, which is what makes me say Gryffindor for them.

Badboyhalo

Our favorite muffin demon. I assume, I don’t know what life you live. Anyways, Bad is like the stereotypical Hufflepuff. The kindhearted, well meaning, sweet, responsible Hufflepuff. The Hufflepuff that’s like in all of those incorrect quotes blogs and “Slytherin and Hufflepuff friendships uwu” posts. But for real, Bad is very Hufflepuff. He does however have Slytherin Loyalty, considering he pretty much sacrificed the entire server for Skeppy, but if you would try to convince me that Bad is a Slytherin I will just laugh at you

Skeppy

It was at this point I realized what I’ve gotten myself into with this post, which you know, not fun. Skeppy is both cocky and filled with energy, with a real ambition to cause chaos. He’s also shown to be willing to sacrifice himself for the person he loves, Bad, when he gave himself up to the egg. I’ve seen some people say Slytherin, but I’m kinda getting Gryffindor from the lad, so yeah, another lion.

Antfrost

Frosty here is a kind hearted person that for the most part seem to be along for the ride. He reminds me a bit of a parent of toddlers, with his patience and serenity towards the more chaotic people on the server, so of course my natural instinct is Hufflepuff. Buuuuut, then there’s again the issue with the egg and the Slytherin loyalty, this time towards his boyfriend Velvet who he was willing to join a cult for (relationship goals) but again, you can’t really say Ant is a Slytherin considering how wrecked he was about what he did while in the eggpire when he was released from it’s grasp. So yeah, Puffle boy

Captain Puffy

Oh captain my captain, you are such a Gryffindor. And some of you may disagree on that, stating that she’s a Hufflepuff or something (I did research before this to check what other people think, I know) but naaah, she a lion. Puffy is very motherly and protective towards other people on the server, especially the minors, but in the way that a Bear is protective towards its cub, which is gentle towards them but fierce towards others. Puffy also falls natural in the role of a leader as seen with Pro-Omelette, but that is kinda expected since she’s a past Pirate Captain. But she wasn’t the leader she was supposed to be, as she waited quite a while to act against the eggpire out of fear of hurting her friends, which lead to quite the damage towards the rest of the server. She’s also been shown to act on impulse, killing Antfrost and taking one of his lives after he killed her son. Idk if this is a good explanation of why I believe Puffy to be a Gryffindor, it sounds more like I’m claiming her to be a Slytherin or Hufflepuff, but she is a Gryffindor I promise!

Foolish Gamers

Foolish is a kind and friendly being, if not a bit naive and easily distracted. He’s also not the brightest person, in fact I’d go as far as to call the guy a Himbo, and he can be a bit skittish sometimes if he’s stressed or haven’t taken a break in a while. But despite it all, the guy is someone who’s creative and hard working, with a brilliant mind for his building. The man is an artist who can get grumpy if you suppress his creative aura, and put his heart and soul into his works. He also has a habit of getting wrapped up in big projects, and ignoring sleep or personal care until he’s finished them. This all leads me to say that Mr Gamers is a Ravenclaw, just not the smartest one. But hey, we can’t all be geniuses, can we.

Slimecicle

Slime is very naive and very trusting towards people around him, taking every word they say as a fact. He can also be a bit dark and ominous at times, but quickly shakes it off as nothing important. This all makes him quite childish, which is very hard to sort, so I’m gonna say Hufflepuff for his friendliness and move on.

Purpled Bedwars

I actually started loving this guy the minute I saw him, purely because Purple is my favorite colour, like my man has taste. Purpled, like Punz, is a guy who helps whoever pays him the most. He’s not interested in most things on the server, too busy looking out for number one (And Dogchamp of course). He’s very self reliant and resourceful, but still quite passive. He may not be the most ambitious guy, but Purpled is definitely a Slytherin (It also brings me and my girlfriend Serotonin knowing that the mercenary siblings are both in the same house, we love those two)

Hannahxxrose

I don’t watch Hannah that much, but god I love her voice, it makes my lesbian little heart happy. Hannah is a friendly person who is very naive about the conflicts on the server, thinking it all can can be solved by placing a rose (God I wish). She’s a good decorator and a good hearted person, who unfortunately fell victim to the egg’s influence. I’m going with Hufflepuff on her, but I’m honestly not entirely sure as I don’t know that much about her.

HBomb94

H is a very well meaning person that only really wants people to be friendly towards each other. He had a strict moral code and he keeps to it, as shown where Fundy tried to get his help with blowing shit up. He’s very helpful to those who ask and is willing to back up his friends when it’s needed, which makes me say that the friendly totally not dirty cat maid is a Hufflepuff.

Connoreatspants

I just want you all to know that I’m writing this before Connor’s lore stream that surely will just go against everything I say because fate hates me, just so ya know. Connor is not a person that does stuff on the server with lore and he for the most part keeps to himself, so this is a bit hard. Connor also has this thing where he likes to say things just to confuse him, and also making a bit of cursed lore, but he’s still a fairly humble person. He does lie and steal a bit, and has this habit of moving into other people’s houses, but I digress. I’m actually leaning towards Ravenclaw on him, for some reason, so that’s what I’m going with until I have more of an established character.

ItsAlyssa

I know she has left the server and stuff, but she was one of the original members so it would be a crime not to include her. Alyssa is a bit chaotic, often going on killing sprees, or burning down the trees outside of L’Manburg. So I’m placing Alyssa in Gryffindor, but to be honest I don’t really know at this point.

Callahan

How do you sort a person who does not speak, stream, or show like anything of his personality? The answer is, you don’t. Hufflepuff is the house of those who don’t fit in anywhere else, and that’s where I’m placing him.

Vikkstar123

Please log onto the server I’m begging you, I didn’t watch you as a kid and honestly know nothing about you. From what I’ve seen of Vik he’s a very humble person that tries to stay out of it all, instead forming a land together with his bro Lazar. Honestly my instincts say Ravenclaw and I trust my instincts, so I’m putting him in Ravenclaw

Lazarbeam

Lazar was actually a big part of the exile arc which I realized after already have written his, so now I gotta rewrite it. Lazar is fairly ambitious on the server, and has the goal to obtain the most powerful objects on the server just to rival the other strong members of the smp. He’s especially against Tommy, and aims to do a lot to be the opposite of him, aka well respected and not a war criminal that got exiled (Totally fair goal). Despite that, he was able to show some empathy to the British child, even going as far as to give him a disk during his exile. This all makes me say Slytherin on him.

Michaelmcchill

Newest boy. Michael is a very apathetic person, showing little to no empathy towards most people’s trauma on the server. The person he does feel empathy for however is Dream, who of course did nothing wrong and is locked up in the prison which is just horrible oh no. Michael just truly does not care about what you’ve been through (as of now) which is why I’m gonna say Slytherin, because he does have Slytherin loyalty towards Mr Was Taken.

TL;DR

Tommy-Lion

Wilbur-Snake

Tubbo-Eagle

Techno-Eagle

Philza-Snake

Ranboo-Badger

Eret-Snake

Nikki-Badger

Fundy-Eagle

Dream-Snake

George-Eagle

Sapnap-Lion

Punz-Snake

Jack-Lion

Schlatt-Snake

Quackity-Snake

Karl-Badger

Sam-Badger

Ponk-Lion

Bad-Badger

Skeppy-Lion

Antfrost-Badger

Puffy-Lion

Foolish-Eagle

Slime-Badger

Purpled-Snake

Hannah-Badger

HBomb-Badger

Connor-Eagle

Alyssa-Lion

Callahan-Badger

Vik-Eagle

Lazar-Snake

Michael-Snake

So all together we have Seven lions, Ten Snakes, Seven Eagles and Ten Badgers. I think that’s fair tbh

127 notes · View notes

amphxtrite · 3 years

Text

harry potter x fem!reader

warnings: ⚠️tw⚠️ suicide, substance abuse, blood, suicidal thoughts, alcohol, depression, anxiety, breakdowns, kissing, overall pure angst with a fluffy ending.

currently unedited please excuse grammatical mistakes

summary: A summer changes the girl harry potter fell in love with, leaving her with more pain than she’d ever admit.

a/n: there are many things in here that may be triggering, please consider the warnings before reading.

word count: 6k (writing this really helped get my feelings out)

taglist: @oldschoolkiddo

please message me to be added to my taglist

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

Rushing down the Hogwarts halls, bags slung over your shoulder and sun shining through the windows, you scour the crowds of students leaving Hogwarts for summer vacation, trying to pick a familiar brunette with green eyes.

Rounding the corner, you spot three gryffindors chatting by a stone pillar and run towards them, crashing into one of the boy’s backs.

“Guess who?” You giggle, feeling Harry’s chest vibrate as he chuckles.

“Hm, I don’t know, is it Hagrid?” He teases, running his chin as Hermione grins. “Nope.” You laugh, popping the ‘p’

“Is it Dumbledore?” Harry tries again, placing his hand over yours and stroking his thumb over your fingers. “Afraid not lightning.”

“Well then, perhaps is it y/n?” Harry turns, wrapping you in his arms as you laugh and hug him back.

“Are you guys ready for summer?” You ask, glancing around at Hermione and Ron before glancing back at Harry.

They all bore similar expressions, small smiles with a ‘maybe’ face. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re off to save the world over summer too.” You sigh, releasing yourself from Harry’s arms and walking to Ron to give him a hug.

“We won’t get in too much trouble.” Ron chuckles, patting you on the back and letting you walk over to Hermione.

“We just never know at this point.” She shrugs, squeezing you tightly.

“Well I’ll meet you guys on the train!” You smile.

The ride back to your platform was as it always was, the trees whipped by and swayed. The sky was lined with puffy white clouds. The snack trolley passed and you bought yourself a chocolate frog and some ‘every flavour’ beans to share with your mom when you got home, a tradition as they were her favourite, and because she needed a little happiness with you off at school and your father gone.

Sitting back and sighing. The golden trio finally arrived at your cabin and told you about their summer plans. Hermione was travelling, Ron was staying home and Harry was staying with the Dursley’s until he could ‘find a reason to escape to the Weasley’s’ as he put it.

The train arrives at your stop and you grab your bags to leave.

“Write to me if you can, all of you, and I’ll see you next year.” You smile, walking back over to Harry and planting a quick kiss to his cheek, ruffling Ron’s hair and kissing Hermione’s forehead.

“Bye y/n!” Ron and Hermione chime.

“Bye thunder!” Harry calls as you turn again and wave. “Bye lightning, bye guys!” You smile, rushing off to the train.

“So you finally told her?” Ron chuckles, patting Harry on the back.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asks furrowing his eyebrows.

“We know you like her mate, and she just kissed you on the cheek!” Ron continues.

“W-Well maybe I do fancy her, but she gave Mione a kiss too!” Harry stammers, his face going as red as his uniform.

“That was platonic Harry, we can tell she likes you, lightning.” Hermione teases using your nickname for him.

“Listen, I don’t want to jump to conclusions and creep y/n out. She’s an amazing friend and I’d like it to stay that way.” Harry smiles, looking off into the distance to see you still walking away.

“Even if she does like you back?” Ron questions.

“Well you don’t know if she does.” Harry sighs, rolling his eyes.

Your eyes scan the station for your mother, swiveling your head back and forth to find her but only seeing other families being reunited with their children.

Pursing your lips you sigh and wait for a moment. Hoping and praying that this year would be different, and your mother would come running to you with open arms. Seconds fade to minutes, and soon the station is almost empty as excited parents rush home to hear about Hogwarts adventures.

You pull your luggage behind you as you walk to the front of the station and hail a muggle cab, leaning your head against the cool window as the pink skies shine above you, the driver makes no move for conversation, so your drive is silent, and when you finally reach your old house, you hand the man driving the rest of your muggle allowance and nod him goodbye.

Your house was looking as quiet and calm as you had left it.

The flowers you had planted last summer had wilted, the porch sat empty and the stairs still creaked as you approached the door. Home.

You smile as you turn your key in the lock and push open the door, setting your bags on the floor as you set out, candy in hand in search of your mother. The kitchen sat empty with only the soft hum of the refrigerator suggesting someone still lived here. The living room was empty, the old leather couch seemed to be collecting dust and the tv looked like an ancient artifact with the cobwebs strung on the sides. As you ascend the stairs to the second floor, you notice the blinds to every window suspiciously closed. Odd, your mother usually enjoyed watching the sunset.

The floorboards beneath you give high pitched creaks as you walk across the hallways, something you had always despised, especially as a child trying to sneak sweets in the early hours.

Pushing open your mothers bedroom, your eyebrows furrow as her bed laid neatly made, with not a thing out of place. The usual mess of pill bottles and plastic bottles had been cleaned, the pile of clothes had disappeared and she was still nowhere to be found. A sense of dread bubbles in the pit of your stomach as you push on, checking her closet and even your own room for your mom, but nothing.

You turn around with a plan to head to town and see if she was visiting the pharmacy for her pills again, or maybe the grocery store, heck, maybe she had stopped at the corner store for cigarettes again. You turn to shrug on a jacket and leave, but as you reach for the front door knob again, your head snaps up and your blood runs cold.

“No, no, no. Please no.” You repeat to yourself, running up the stairs with tears in your eyes and you approach the one room you had yet to check. The one place your head told you she was, but your heart refused to believe. There was no way it could be true. She’d be opening the door right now, the sound of keys clattering on the table in the kitchen would alert you she was there. She’d say, “I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up, work was awful today.” And she’d proceed to pull out her groceries so you could prepare your favourite meal together, after dinner you would sit on the couch and you’d tell her all about your school girl crush on Harry Potter and she’d tease you as she popped a jelly bean into her mouth and give you the best motherly advice you could ask for. You pause at the closed door and pause, waiting for the door to open, waiting for the sound of footsteps, even the sound of breathing, anything.

You’re met with silence, and in the exact two hundred and sixteen seconds you stood outside the bathroom door, tears began to cloud your vision as you finally opened the door, counting another ten seconds before opening your eyes.

The first thing you saw was your mother, eyes closed and face unusually pale as she lay in the bathtub, and for a moment, you almost convinced yourself she had fallen asleep.

That is until your eyes trailed down her body, and where the water turned red. You drop the jellybeans and everything goes blurry.

“No…” You whimper incredulously, not realizing you had fallen to your knees until the pain in your legs registered and your eyes flooded. Her skin was littered with scars, ones she obtained from her job, harmless ones that healed with time. Beside them were what you cried for. Large, angry gashes that covered her wrists and stole the life from her.

Your face contorts into a hateful cry as you scream, pain flooding your entire being as the metallic sting of blood floods your nose and you gag.

Words seem to blur together, a mixture of ‘why’ and ‘come back, please.’ Seemed to be the only ones that came out coherently as you collapse and slam your fists repeatedly against the floor.

“Mommy, why did you do this? Why did you leave me?” You sob softly, hesitantly touching her face, ice cold to the touch, a quick check of her pulse showed she was gone, but you could tell from the colour still draining from her face that this was recent. Another choked sob escapes your lips as you turn away from her and spot something sitting on the bathroom sink. A letter.

You scramble to grab it and tear it open.

Y/n, if you’re reading this, you’ve gotten home safely and seen me by now. Please know this isn’t your fault love, I just couldn’t bear this anymore. You know that ever since your father left I’ve struggled, you were the only reason I still wanted to stay alive baby, but it’s too much. Everyday I wake up and I have no reason to stay. I was fired not too long ago, lost all my friends to my absence, and lost everything.

Please forgive me. I love you so much, angel, and I’m so so proud of you, I’m resting now baby. I’m finally free.

The paper starts to crinkle as your hands tighten to fists, your tears spill like rivers down your face and your breathing grows rapid as your head falls into your hands.

“P-Please don’t go… You’re all I have, I-I can’t lose you.” You sob, pushing her hair back against her forehead in the soothing manner she had always done for you.

“Please, please, please. I can’t lose you mom… I-I still haven’t told you about this boy at school, t-the test I aced in potions even though professor Snape hates me, all the house points I got, mom there's still so much I have to tell you…” You sniffle, pressing a kiss to her head as you sit back on your heels and push the tears from your eyes to no avail.

“I got your-your every flavoured beans mom, I was hoping we could share them as I told you, maybe I would get an earwax one and you would laugh.” You stutter as the tears flood your eyes again. “I miss your laugh so much mom, please, can I hear it one more time.” You beg, refusing to move from your spot on the floor next to your mother, holding her head in your arms as you begged and prayed for her to come back, going as far as to try and perform magic to heal her wounds and bring her back.

But even magic couldn’t bring her back, and she’d want more for you than to be expelled for uselessly trying to save her.

Eventually the metallic scent became more than you could bear, you pushed yourself away, swallowing your sobs and closing the door behind you. You had no clue what you were going to do with her, but that would be a problem you’d face another day. Your breathing began to race, your heart pounded a million miles a second and the overwhelming feeling of being trapped settled around you, squeezing you into a box you could not escape from, pushing from all sides until you were clawing at yourself to escape your imagined prison.

It was too much. You run down the hallway to your mother’s room and collapse in front of her cabinet, trembling as you tug open the bottom drawer and grab a small cylindrical container with her name on it.

You knew this was a terrible idea, these were strong muggle painkillers meant to help a grown adult, not a teen.

But the looming dread was too much to ignore, too much to bear, too much to even think about. Your mother’s lifeless body flashed through your head, painfully embedding itself into every inch of your memory until it burned.

You pour an unknown amount into your hand and throw them into your mouth, swallowing them dry and collapsing onto the floor in a fit of anger at your actions and pain. Pain so blinding it swallowed your rage, filling your entire being with a convulsing sadness, and as the meds began to kick in, an artificial peace.

New sunlight shines through the closed blinds onto your closed eyes and you finally stir, sitting upright holding your head in your hands, clueless for a moment what you were doing on the floor. Scanning the room, the burning memory hits you like a punch to the face and you freeze, resisting the urge to empty whatever sat in your stomach onto the floor.

“What am i going to do?” You murmur to yourself, glancing around helplessly for something, someone to hold on too, but alas, you sit alone, clutching a pill bottle in your hands.

You eventually snapped to your senses, called a muggle ambulance to help you get your mother out of the tub and before you knew it, you were standing in a flowerless field as two workers lowered your mother into the ground. They offered you condolences and convincing frowns, but to them this was just another job. One more person laid to rest, no care to know what tragic story was buried in the heart of the one person standing at the funeral.

They left without a word you stood at the headstone, engraving the image into your mind.

‘m/n l/n, finally at peace.’

You convinced yourself reading those carved words would have your feelings set in stone. She was at peace now, finally free from her suffering. But it wasn’t that simple, how could it be?

The last family you had ever known was gone, ripped from your arms and held so far above you, there was no possible way you could reach her.

You trudged back home with a permanent feeling of dread looming over you, again your heart begged to have the pain lifted, even for a moment, just to feel alright. And there was only one way you could think of.

“This always helped take the edge off her…” You murmur, digging through your mother’s drawer again to find an untouched box of cigarettes sitting at the bottom.

“This will help…” You convince yourself, taking the box and standing again, slowly trudging out the front door and sitting on the front porch.

“Everything’s gonna be okay.” You murmur lifting a cigarette to your lips and lighting it like you’d seen your mother do many times before.

Inhaling deeply, you barely flinch as the smooth taste of smoke coats your throat. You exhale as you look up into the sky and sigh, it was going to be a long summer.

It almost became an immediate response for stress to pull a cigarette from your pocket and stick it in your mouth, you didn’t particularly enjoy it, but in a twisted way, the smell reminded you of your mother, and you clutched onto anything that reminded you of her.

When you didn’t have cigarettes you turned to alcohol, your mother hadn’t been much of a drinker, but gifts of different drinks were common when her friends came over were common, and they sat untouched in a cabinet in the basement.

The taste of many of them were bitter, but if you drank enough the taste simply didn’t matter and the buzz took over.

Letters from your friends slowly piled on your window as owls came and went as you threw back fire whiskey and stared into space talking to yourself and shooing away the owls who stared at you strangely before flapping away.

When you weren’t at home you went into the small town nearby and bought anything advertised to take the pain away, no one seemed to pay you any mind, many seemed to be going through it as well, to caught up in their own realities to give a shit about a girl buying sleep medication and painkillers, no matter how strong.

You dove deeper into your pain, taking something every night to lull away the nightmares and ignore the pain. Drinking and smoking in the day to cover the tears and help you forget for a couple hours.

Some days were better than others, when you could just sit outside and enjoy the fresh summer air, but others your anxiety caged you up and you did anything to escape.

One late August afternoon a snowy white owl lands beside you on your front porch as you twiddle your thumbs and hum softly.

It drops the letter directly onto your lap and waits staring up at you expectantly as if asking you to open the envelope and read it to them.

“Alright, I get the message.” You yawn, sitting up and ripping the paper off the top of the letter and pulling a piece of parchment into your hand.

You clear your throat and begin, “dear y/n..

I hope you’re doing well, you haven’t responded to any of my letters yet and I’ve been very worried, Ron and Hermione have told me you haven’t been answering them either and we’re all hoping you’re safe. School’s starting up again and I’m looking forward to seeing you, take care.

Harry Potter.”

The owl looks at you again, and you wondered if it actually thought you were going to respond.

“Sorry pal, I’m not writing anything back. Here, for your troubles.” You nod, placing three knuts in front of the bird. The snowy owl looked down at the money oddly before ruffling his feathers and flying away, leaving you alone once again.

“Harry.” You sigh, sipping on a glass of water. You had completely forgotten you had promised to write to your friends over the summer, almost forgotten your life completely as you tried to focus on keeping yourself alive.

“What the fuck am I going to do?” You sigh, setting down your cup and resting your head against your knees.

Summer blew by much faster once you realized how close the first day back really was, but there you were standing in the empty street hailing a cab to travel back to your station.

You pull your sweater closer to you as your leg shakes furiously and your breathing grows rapidly blowing through every possible bad scenario that crosses your mind. The disappointed faces of your old friends, laughter, teasing, each thought clouds your thoughts. A cold sweat breaks out and you can almost feel yourself slipping when a voice pulls you out.

“Um, miss? We’re here.” The cab driver says, glancing back at you worried.

“O-Oh, thank you.” You clear your throat, handing him his payment and stepping out of the car and grabbing your suitcase.

Taking a deep breath you wipe the sweat from your forehead and walk to the magical platform, bracing yourself as always before stepping through the brick border.

Loud and bustling, you quietly walk towards the Hogwarts Express, but instead of walking to your usual compartment where you knew the golden trio would be sitting you strode all the way down to the back of the train and sat in an empty seat.

Glancing around, you make sure the coast is clear before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, instantly feeling a rush of relief as you take a deep breath in and out.

You watched as the trees disappeared behind the window and the sky shone above, but it didn’t feel right. You didn’t get the usual rush of excitement and joy, in fact you almost felt worse the closer you got to Hogwarts. You close the blinds hurriedly and sit back in your seat.

“No I-I’m sure I saw her come this way.” A voice calls out not too far from you.

“Harry, We’ve been down this way three times already!”

Harry.

“Fuck.” You whisper, pulling the hood of your sweater over your head and keeping your eyes trained on the floor.

“Mate we gotta get changed into our uniforms, we’ll see her at the feast.” Ron sighs, probably pulling Harry away as their voices fade away and you’re left alone again.

You curse yourself for hiding. Why were you hiding from the people you loved? What were you so afraid of?

The answer lay plain as day, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

You were afraid of them seeing you like this. Broken down, exhausted, and with a cigarette sticking past your lip.

That did remind you, your uniform.

Covering the compartment windows with your jacket, you quickly swap your hoodie for your collared shirt and a tie. Running a brush through your hair you menatlly prepare yourself to re-enter your life, a life that no longer seemed like yours. Stepping off the Hogwarts express, it felt like you were seeing your past life, a flash of familiarity you no longer knew, a warmth you could recognize that was no longer for you.

You recoil softly at the shiver running down your spine, but push forwards, walking along surrounded by the sea of students.

Reaching where the carriages usually were, you look up expecting the usual strangeness of being pulled by an invisible force, but stumble backwards at the sight of a dark, nightmarish horse standing before you.

It’s eyes seemed to narrow, glaring daggers at you that seemed to pierce your very soul. You quickly climb into a carriage with some random students and stare out the windows the entire ride.

Their quiet chatter is drowned out by your thoughts, coming up with a way to avoid the golden trio at all cost seemed to be a top priority, followed by the need to down some firewhisky to get your mind off everything.

You kept repeating to yourself everything would be okay, just make it up the stairs, around the pillars, dodge anyone that seemed to be walking in your direction and hurry up to your dormitory. Collapsing into the bed that was now called yours you sigh and bunch the blankets into your fists and breathe properly for the first time since you left your house. Your roommates had yet to show and you were grateful for the alone time. Your hands finally stopped shaking, your sweat finally stopped and your breathing evened. You finally work up the strength to unzip your suitcase and pull the small container of firewhiskey you had brought out of your bag. You unscrew it and take a small sip, allowing the burning liquid to slowly take your edge off and calm you down. You sat for a moment nursing the bottle against your lips, contemplating whether or not it would be smart to go down to the great hall for the feast. You were starving and needed food, but you couldn’t face anyone in this state. Glancing at your faint reflection on the window you swallow at the unfamiliarity of the person staring back at you. Where had the happy girl you once were gone? And who was the stranger you were looking at? Your summer had been restless and difficult, of course. But had it really been enough to shake you to the point you didn’t recognize yourself?

What a stupid question. You almost laugh to yourself, tilting your head back again and drinking a little more. Drinking was supposed to take your mind off your situation, not have you overthink even more.

After a while of sitting and glaring out the window you finally pick yourself up, tuck away your firewhiskey and straighten your uniform. You make your way down towards the great hall, walking slowly down the halls you used to run through. Staring in boredom at the carvings and paintings on the wall you used to admire with awe. Keeping your mouth shut when you used to laugh down these corridors.

Finally reaching the great hall the sorting ceremony was still in full swing, playing as a distraction while you slipped to your table.

You sit and nod hello to the students surrounding you, giving them empty excuses on why you were late, and half-heartedly listening to their stories.

Your only thought at the moment was to eat and keep your head down, become invisible if you must.

Harry glances around the great hall anxiously looking for your face. He had barely touched his food, hardly clapped at the new students being sorted into their houses, barely talked to Hermione and Ron as they watched Harry worriedly.

Harry had only one thought on his mind, find you. See if you were alright, hug you in his arms and tell you he missed you, ask you about your summer and ask you to Hogsmeade like he was too afraid to last year. He had so much planned, all he was missing was you.

Just as Ron opens his mouth to tell Harry to quit for a moment and just eat, he catches sight of familiar h/c hair. Longer than he remembered, but no doubtebly yours. Standing in a hurry Harry runs off leaving Ron and Hermione confused, glancing over to see where the brunette had run off to.

Your head snaps up as you hear footsteps approach you and just in time you see Harry running towards you. His green eyes were alight in joy. His tousled brown hair was shorter and he looked older, more mature. Your heart drops as you frantically try and hide your face. He couldn’t see you like this, what on earth would he think?

“Y/n, there you are I’ve been looking for you!”

Bloody hell, his voice had gotten deeper too. Still holding that boyish grin that you loved so much.

“Y/n? A-Are you okay?”

Go away. You pleaded in your head, refusing to look up into the green eyes you’d fallen for.

Harry refuses to give up and attempts to reach out and take your hand.

His skin makes contact with yours and you flinch away, finally giving in and removing your hands from your face.

“What do you want?” You snap unintentionally, cringing inwardly at what you had just done.

“I-I just wanted to say hi-- are you alright?-” Harry asks furrowing his eyebrows, was that firewhiskey he smelled on your breath?

“I’m fine, could you please leave me alone?” Your voice is softly this time, but still with a cold edge.

Harry’s eyes blink in confusion, as he glances around and open and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. This was not the reunion he was expecting, heck this didn’t seem like you at all. Regardless, he nods and slowly walks away, looking back every now and again to see you holding your head in your hands and eventually standing and leaving in a huff, were those tears he saw streaming down your eyes?

“Did you find her mate?” Ron asks as Harry takes a seat.

“Yeah-yeah. Listen, something's wrong.” Harry states, explaining the confrontation he had with you. Slowly the two other gryffindors expressions fade to concern as well.

“And you’re sure it was firewhiskey?” Hermione questions, pursing her lips.

“I’m afraid so, I-I don’t know what to do.” Harry sighs defeated.

“Give her some time, perhaps she just had a bad day?” Ron suggests.

“Sounds more like a horrible summer.” Hermione sighs, worried for her friend.

“I’m gonna go look for her, I don’t want her alone at a time like now.” Harry nods, not waiting for his friend’s reactions before running off to find you.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” You curse yourself, unsure where you were running too. You simply follow your feets as you angrily wipe tears from your eyes and cry in the empty hallways. As you run the image of Harry’s shocked face plays over and over again in your head, taunting you, trying to prove to you what kind of person you had become. Your feet lead you down another corridor and before you know it you’re climbing up a flight of stairs and fighting for breath while digging your fingers into your hands to keep yourself from sobbing to loudly. You had let him down. You had let everyone you love down, you let your mother down, you let yourself down. Maybe if you had spent more time at home your mother would have found a reason to stay, if you just didn’t go to the magic school and stayed with her she’d be alive and there to guide you. You miss her so much everyday. You collapse onto the cool ground of what must have been the astronomy tower you glance down at your hands and realize you’ve been squeezing too tight and hot blood is beginning to flow down your palm. You gag as the sight brings you back to the beginning of the summer. The start of your hell. Instinctively you pull a cigarette from your pocket and bring it to your lips, lighting it and before you know what you’re doing, walking to the edge of the tower.

There wasn’t anything left for you here. Your mother was gone, you had successfully avoided your friends and the person you loved had seen you for who you truly were. You were ready, and you couldn’t think of any place you’d rather go then your favourite place at Hogwarts.

The place you’d spent so many nights gazing at the stars. The place you’d realized you had fallen in love, looking into the green eyes of Harry Potter while watching the planets shine above you and the stars twinkle.

Harry, the person you were so excited to tell your mother about. The boy who made you smile and laugh every day you were with him. You would miss him. Miss his smile, his tousled hair you loved to play with, miss his voice.

As you take one final drag from your cigarette, your feet just over the edge, you look up towards the sky. You see the moon shining, the trees swaying in the distance, nature in all it’s peace, calling to you.

A feeling like your mother’s arms wraps around you, and for a moment you can see her, feel her. “I’m coming mom, we’ll be together soon.”

Taking a step forward you look down at the ground, almost smiling softly before looking back up at the sky, where you’d join your mom and--

“Y/n!” A pair of real arms wrap around you and pull you away from the edge. Squeezing you against their chest and sobbing into your hair.

Why were they crying? Why weren’t you with your mother yet…?

“Y/n what are you doing?”

Harry. You realize, and as he raises his head and you come eye to eye, you see his eyes clouding with hot tears behind his glasses. You lift your hand and wipe them.

“Why are you crying?” You ask, dropping your hand again and realizing you had accidentally smeared blood on his face.

“I-I could have lost you! What were you doing so close to the edge?” Harry asks, pleading for answers as he holds you close against him.

“Isn’t it obvious?” You smile as though he had just asked the silliest thing.

“There’s nothing left here for me. My mother’s gone, she killed herself when I got home for summer. My dad left us when I was just a baby. I’ve managed to get Ron and Hermione to stop worrying and you’ll never like me back.” You sigh, looking down at your hands and reaching into your pocket again.

“What? Y/n, I-I’m so sorry.” Harry murmurs, placing his forehead against yours as you raise a cigarette to your lips.

“S’ alright.”

Harry’s eyes widen and he slaps the cigarette from your lips.

“You’re drinking and smoking?” He shouts.

“I’ve got painkillers and sleep medication too, anything that’ll get my mind off things.” You shrug, struggling in Harry’s arms as you try and escape.

“Y/n, these things are going to kill you!”

“Good! Maybe I want to die Harry! Maybe I can’t take being alone anymore, and maybe I know these things will kill me so I use them. I want to see her again Harry! I want to not be alone, I want to erase everything I saw, I want to be me again.” You cry, lifting your hands to your face and using your bloody hands to wipe your tears away.

“But I can’t! I still go back to smoking, drinking, using pills to take the pain away and I still. Can’t. Forget!” You continue, bawling into Harry’s shoulder as he holds you.

“I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.” You shriek, trying again to escape Harry’s grip, but he refuses to let go.

“Darling look at me.”

You don’t stop.

“Please Y/n, just look at me.” Hary pleads again.

When you don’t stop this time, he finally gives in and leans towards you. Ignoring the blood, tears and taste of smoke, to press his lips to yours.

You freeze and Harry keeps himself there. Waiting for your breathing to even out and your heartbeat to stop racing.

Your eyes close and you pause as Harry finally pulls away and takes your face into his hands.

“Y/n, you mother wouldn’t have wanted her daughter to go like this. She would’ve wanted you to be happy and live the life she never had. Darling, from the way you’d always talk about her I know she loves you very much, she doesn’t want you to die.” Harry murmurs pressing a kiss to your eyes and nose.

“Ron and Hermione were worried about you y/n, they just respect your privacy and didn’t want to intrude.” He continues drying you tears with his thumb and peppering kisses down your cheeks.

“They love and care for you so much love. They don’t want you to die.”

Harry pauses for a moment and lifts your lips to his, this time deepening the kiss and moving your lips in sync with his.

“And I… I’m in love with you y/n. I wish I’d had the guts to tell you sooner but I was always too nervous.”

“But look at me now Harry. I’m a mess. I-I’m not the same person.” You murmur, trying to avoid his intense gaze.

“Y/n nothing could ever change the fact I love you. You lost your mother, you can’t expect yourself to just be alright.” Harry sighs.

“I still get nightmares about my parents, I see them collapse and have the life drained from them in mere moments.”

“Y/n after everything, you’re my light. You’re what keeps me motivated everyday to keep going. And I’m not going to let my light die if I could have stopped it.”

You pause and choke back a sob as you glance up into Harry’s eyes and once again melt into the soft green.

“I’m here for you darling, always and forever, whenever you need me, whatever you need, we’ll support each other.” Harry smiles.

This time you engage the kiss, grateful as you relish in the pure moment of happiness.

“Thank you Harry.” You smile weakly.

“Now why don’t you tell me about your mom?” Harry suggests, sitting you down and pulling his wand out of his pocket.

As you ramble on about childhood stories, funny jokes and happy memories Harry smiles and listens, healing your hands and holding them in his.

You spend the rest of the evening laying against his shoulder and gazing up at the stars. Harry places kisses against your head, cheeks and nose every now and again, and even though you knew there was still a long road to walk before you could truly say you felt change, you smiled a little and realized.

Nature wasn’t calling you join it, it was reminding you of the beauty you would be missing. The stars weren’t inviting you up, they were shining to show all the wonders you loved.

And your mother wasn’t embracing you from afar to push you forwards, she was edging you back. Back into Harry’s arms.

#harry potter x reader #harry potter angst #harry potter imagine #harry potter #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #angst

180 notes · View notes

gryffindors-weasley · 3 years

Text

Finding A Light

Ron Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ron was left broken in the aftermath of the wizarding war. In an attempt to build a better life, he feels he may have unknowingly met someone who could put those pieces back together.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, grieving, fluff

A/N: Remus is very much alive in this series! This will be more than one part, I hope you enjoy!

Ron Weasley was a man of few words when presented the daunting task of expressing his emotions, preferring to stuff them down and deal with the consequences later. He never outright says what he’s feeling unless it’s pried from him, and in those times it’s usually expressed through anger. He isn’t great with his words either, so it didn’t come as a surprise to Harry and Hermione to see him so closed off after the war had concluded its disastrous rampage.

It was a battle that anyone and everyone involved was more than likely to never forget, the losses and hardships engraved in their minds as a permanent reminder should their memory allow it as they age. Some had come out on the other side more fortunate than others. Some had handled it far better than others. Ron was not one of those people.

His long awaited ambitions on becoming an Auror were rapidly diminished and pushed to the very back of his mind for a good while. He had wanted absolutely nothing to do with magic beyond that very day, thought that maybe if he hadn’t used it, it wouldn’t remind him of his tragedies. That maybe that part of his life would be forgotten in time if he tried hard enough. So, his wand, his robes, his Hogwarts letters and what was left of his sentimental wizarding memorabilia were hastily shoved into a cardboard box, taped shut and stuffed away to collect dust. Out of sight out of mind was his reasoning, though it didn’t quite work out that way.

The loss of his childhood home paired with the devastating loss of one of his older brothers had been a weight too heavy to bear, pressing down on his chest with each day that passed. He nearly lost two of his closest friends amidst the chaos the Dark Lord left in his wake. Such a lifetime of pain and loss was something he never anticipated to experience all by the young age of eighteen, and it left him feeling like a mere shell of the person he once used to be. As if the years of extraordinary magical endeavors prior to that day were completely erased and replaced with utter heartache.

It took him four years to bring himself out of the pit he found himself stuck in and find some semblance of strength, if only for his mother, and he wanted to build a better life for himself. One without so much sorrow written into his story. He wasn’t entirely sure how to go about doing so, knowing a return to a normal life simply wouldn’t be feasible. Not that his life had ever been considered normal per say.

The emotional scars were something that would never go away, he understood that, but he didn’t think he could go another day having the same mundane routine night and day. He felt ready for more.

Now, at the age of twenty-two coming up on twenty-three, he found himself returning to Hogwarts with hopes to become a professor. His heart nearly beat out of his chest when he arrived, sick to his stomach with nerves as he stopped and stood in the middle of the newly constructed stone bridge. His letter crinkled under the pressure of his tightly clenched hand, luggage in the other, eager students curving their stride to avoid running into him. The castle was more grand than he’d remembered it to be, perhaps they’d made it bigger to house more young witches and wizards, perhaps it wasn’t. Either way, against his instincts, he forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat and continue forward before he convinced himself to turn around and apparate home.

He quickly found that things had been kept fairly the same as he roamed the grand halls in curiosity, as similar to the school he’d grown up in as it could be. The wondrous ceiling of enchanted candles in the Great Hall was a detail that briefly gave him watery eyes; the varying hues of reds, oranges and yellows coloring the Gryffindor common room, down to the house flags pridefully ornamenting the new quidditch pitch. He found himself turning to express his awe to Harry or Hermione on more than one occasion, but was only met with the unfamiliar faces of new students. His shoulders would slump as he exhaled a deep sigh.

It had taken him nearly two months to fully adjust to his newfound routine, to come to terms with the memories that flashed in his mind of their own volition. Whether they be good or bad, they had a habit of making themselves known at the worst of times. Over the course of that time period crumpled pieces of parchment had accumulated around the desk in his room, unsent letters to his mother of his wishes to return home. All of which were written hastily in either frustration or tears, or a mixture of the two. And of the ones he had sent, they were promptly returned with enchanted letters vocally telling him with the utmost of love and sternness that he will be staying, he needs this. Those letters kept him going on those days.

Amongst those days and nights it was strange not having his two best friends there, loneliness still having its hold on him.

Remus Lupin had made his return all the more welcome though, himself and McGonagall being two of the only familiar faces that he’d truly connected with. He felt it was an honor to be taken under his wing and trained, he always had been Ron’s favorite instructor of Defense Against The Dark Arts. He’d even go so far as to say he’s the best if he was being honest.

Regardless, despite his own personal conflicts, he was beginning to feel more comfortable residing there than he had ever thought he would. It was as if the nagging rain cloud dumping over his head was starting to dissipate for the time being.

“You did very good today, Ron,” Lupin says once his final class of the day has left, “the teaching of boggarts is never easy I’ll say, and if I recall correctly it wasn’t your favorite lesson.”

Ron chuckles at the thought, pushing his chair in when he stood. “Not particularly. I still have a nightmare or two about that bloody spider.”

Lupin laughs, nodding at the pleasant memory. Things fall quiet for a few moments as Ron moves to sling his bag over his shoulder. “Off you go, Mr. Weasley, enjoy your weekend,” he urges, grabbing Ron’s attention again before he gets too far. “Here’s your weekly report. You’re becoming a fine up and coming professor I’d say. I have no doubt that I will be leaving my classroom in the best possible care.”

Ron nods with a soft laugh, cheeks flushing a pale crimson at the reassurance as he takes the parchment from him, tucking it into his bag to be read later. “Thank you, Professor Lupin, really. It means a lot to hear.”

He smiles appreciatively before making his way across the long classroom, stopping in his tracks. He takes a breath to gather his thoughts before spinning on his heel to face him again, returning to the desk he sat at. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I suppose.”

He offers Ron a smile upon seeing the clear hesitancy written all over his face. Ron gulps, fumbling with the strap of his bag that rested on his shoulder. He could practically see the gears turning in the ginger boy’s head if such a thing existed. “Was it…was it hard coming back here? After the war, I mean.”

Lupin huffs out a soft laugh at the sudden ask of such a deep question, though he can’t say he was surprised. “I was waiting for this question to arise,” he says, lifting a hand to stop Ron from apologizing. “To give a short answer, yes. It took great thought. To give a long answer, one you may not like but I’m sure you already know, there will always be bad days after experiencing such trauma. It is not easy being born into a life where magic is real and not just a trick of the eye. While it can be wonderful it also brings with it a great deal of damage.”

Ron nods as he listens to his words, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Despite all of it, Hogwarts is a place that can be good just as much as it can be bad. You just have to take it in your stride. You’re stronger than you think, Ron. If you really want to be here, I believe it is worth it to try.”

Ron exhales deeply, taking a moment to process his insightful words, a certain wisdom he appreciated. It left him feeling considerably lighter than he had before, like he was a bit more hopeful of a better experience here. “Thank you.”

That’s all he can manage to say.

The blue eyed man in front of him nods. “Go on now, you’ve had a long day, Weasley.”

—

Ron found himself to be rather excited for this weekend. It would be his first time making a trip to Hogsmeade in nearly five years, though he’d been putting it off because the experience wasn’t quite the same when doing it alone. Third years buzzed around him with the excitement of their newfound privileges and independence, bouncing from shop to shop to fully take in all that it had to offer.

He, however, walked at a leisurely pace amongst the students bustling around him, taking a moment to fully appreciate everything he hadn’t seen for so long. Catching details that otherwise went unnoticed like the chipping pink paint on the curved windowsills of Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, and the happy young couples residing inside. The vibrant green moss that formed inbetween the crumbling cracks of the old cobblestone walkways. However, the sight of Zonko’s Joke Shop made his heart lurch in his chest the moment he saw it.

He averted his gaze immediately, swallowing thickly as he tugged at his shirt collar that suddenly felt a little too constricting. It had been Fred and George’s favorite shop to frequent, always buying new things to add to their inventory of pranks. But now that one half of the pair was missing it wasn’t such a fond memory anymore, moreso a taunting one.

The sound of a couple students joyously greeting with a chorus of ‘Hi Mr. Weasley!’ pulled him from his thoughts and he was quick to smile, giving them a half wave as they had already begun to walk away. He let his hand fall back to his side, huffing out a sigh as he continued to walk along the path towards the one place he looked forward to the most, Honeydukes.

The little bell overhead alerted his entrance as he opened the door, the air noticeably sweeter than outside. He found himself smiling as his gaze bounced around the near unchanged shop, any candy you could possibly think of lining almost every brightly painted wall. Though not every single one is a desireable find, he learned that one the hard way. He almost didn’t know where to begin, much like how he felt the first time he ever entered the place, and every time after that for that matter. So he perused the shop, something he’s never done by himself.

His eyes landed on familiar chocolates, and he was quick to grab a box for Hermione because he knows they’re her favorite. Despite such knowledge she still adamantly denies having a sweet tooth to this day. To go along with that, he snags one of the last chocolate frogs for Harry.

It was a fond memory when he thought of it, a tradition they’d had as young students. He’s still got the cards he’d collected from each frog, they were tucked away in that box filled with other things. Maybe when he returned home he’d have the courage to reopen it.

He continues to look around for a bit more, finding himself wishing he had the same sense of enjoyment and innocence as some of the younger students held. For they were fortunate enough to narrowly miss being involved with such negative events. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t looming over his head anymore, to let himself enjoy this very moment. So, he tried his best to clear his mind and bring himself back to his current situation in the middle of an aisle filled with hard candies.

When he had turned the corner of said aisle he collided with something, someone to be more specific, the box clutched in his hands opening on impact and sending the assortment of sweets clattering to the ground with the addition of others. The chocolate frog had fell from its decorative box and hopped out of sight before he could process it.

“I’m so sorry!” A soft voice sounds in front of him, a warm hand enveloping his wrist.

“It’s okay…” Ron trails off when he matches the voice to its owner, blinking slowly as his mouth hangs slightly agape. He found himself staring at the girl, he was quite sure he’d never seen someone so alluring, so captivating. He didn’t know if he could manage to stop gawking. “I-it’s okay.”

His cheeks redden when he realized he’s repeated himself, the fiery heat of embarrassment burning from the very tips of his ears down to his neck, leaving his pale skin flushed. You too came to the realization that you were still gripping his arm, quickly dropping it as you laughed softly to stave off any awkward silence. He averts his eyes momentarily, needing a moment to regain his composure and not make a complete fool of himself in front of the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Though he’s quite sure he already has.

“I told Mr. Flume it shouldn’t be quite so cramped in here, but he never seems to listen,” you laugh, looking at the smattering of sweets scattered around the two of them. Ron was focused less on the mishap and more on the way you smiled brightly at him, knowing his cheeks were undoubtedly the same shade as his hair. “Give me just one moment, please!”

He nods just a little too late as you rush off around another corner and out of sight, leaving him to stand there awkwardly as students in the vicinity stared at the mess sprawled at his feet. Shortly, you indeed did come back, a new box of chocolates and what was now the last chocolate frog in your hands. You thrusted them in his direction with a warm smile, one that made his heart flip in his chest. “Take these, it’s on the house.”

“Oh I couldn’t do that,” Ron rushes.

“Please, it was my mistake. I insist.”

He laughs softly, nodding after a moment. “At least let me help you clean up?”

You nod up at him with a laugh of your own, “deal.”

He tries not to think about the way your fingers brush over his as they pick up chocolates from the checkered floor, tossing them into the nearby trash bin. And he tried not to think about the way you’d had his stomach twisting in knots as if he was a thirteen year old again experiencing his first crush.

“I’m Y/n, by the way.”

He scrambled to think of a response, seemingly forgetting his own name momentarily. It hadn’t gotten any better when you looked up at him politely as if waiting for a response. “I’m Ron…Ron Weasley.”

He could’ve kicked himself for being so awkward, knowing him stumbling over his words couldn’t possibly give off any sort of appeal. He brushed his hands off with a sigh as he stood to his feet. Though you didn’t seem to mind his nerves as you brushed your hands off on your jeans.

“Nice to meet you, Ron. I only wished it were on better circumstances.” The pale blush on your face deepened a shade.

“That’s quite alright,” he says with an airy laugh, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “It was nice meeting you too.”

That same silence took up the absence in conversation again as Ron tried desperately to think of something to say, not quite ready for the interaction to be over. You beat him to it.

“I hope to see you around here again, maybe without the mess,” you say with a soft smile, “and don’t forget your chocolates.”

He was confused for a moment, too caught up in the way your eyes sparkled as they looked at him, or the way your hair fell around your face before following where you’d been pointing. “Oh! Y-yeah…thank you,” He grabbed his sweets in his shaky hands, feeling rather bold suddenly, “I’ll see you around then, Y/n.”

He was sure your words were only friendly, something you probably said often as a kind gesture. Probably not because you actually wanted to see him again. But he let himself think otherwise if only for a moment.

You simply nod, your grin widening a fraction, “bye Ron.”

—

Ron’s lifted spirits did not go unnoticed, not by Mrs. McGonagall who made it a point to bring it up at dinner later that evening. He could tell she picked up on it, could tell by the very way she’d glanced at him frequently. Though he wasn’t sure he was hiding it very well. He pretended not to notice, focusing his gaze on the rows of tables occupied by dozens upon dozens of students seated at them, the hardwood adorned with some of the best food he’s ever eaten. Second only to his mother.

“Is there a particular reason you’re so cheery, Mr. Weasley?” She finally asks, and he sighs at the question.

“Not particularly,” he responds using her wording, glancing at her as a smile pulls at the left corner of his mouth. He watches as she raises a skeptical brow; he knows what’s coming.

“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a number of years, Ronald. I know when you’re lying,” she says with a soft laugh, though she doesn’t pry.

Ron chuckles down at his plate as he shakes his head, pushing his food around as he thought about her. The way she smiled at him, so brightly the corners of her eyes crinkled. It still felt as though those butterflies were still fluttering around in his stomach. He quickly found himself wanting to hear your voice again, or hear your laughter—

“I’ve met a wonderful person today, that’s all,” he blurts, looking to his side.

She gave him a fond yet knowing smile, nodding her head. “I know the look of young love when I see it.”

“I’m not in love, Mrs. McGonagall,” he urges almost immediately, cheeks reddening once more at her preposterous conclusion, “I’ve only just met her today.”

“If you insist, my dear.”

“I do insist.” He tries to be sure of himself despite his inability to get you off his mind, but he hides his smile behind his goblet as he takes a sip.

Later that night he went to bed with something other than sorrow clouding his thoughts, instead feeling rather optimistic about the week ahead. Or maybe it was the plans he’d had at the end of it that had him so eager, time feeling agonizingly slow. It was definitely that. He couldn’t wait to see you next Saturday.

—

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

237 notes · View notes

a-simple-imagine · 4 years

Text

New Student

Requested by anonymous: “I was thinking maybe having the reader be a transfer student from Ilvermorny and Hermione tutors her to help her catch up with the curriculum of the new school.”

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Words: 4.3k+

Warnings - Prejudice and brief mention of pain

"I understand that your family is of pure descent, correct?" You can't help but fidget in your seat; the vibrant pink of her office was making you extremely uncomfortable. Not to mention the gentle mewing coming from the plates that decorated the walls. It was one thing to love cats but surely this grew annoying after a while. You nod a little as you sit up straighter. The headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was currently reading your transfer file. Having once attended school overseas, you were new to Hogwarts but instead of arriving like everyone else you were in your fifth year of education and the term had already begun for everyone else. Of course, your father cleared this with the school ahead of time but it was still embarrassing arriving so late. Not to mention, everyone else had four years of relationships and you were now just some weird new kid. "I do hope you'll consider your friends wisely while attending Hogwarts."

"May I ask what you mean by that Professor?" That was the first question you had asked since stepping through that door and you were very quickly regretting it. The woman wore a sickeningly sweet smile as she lowered the file from before her face.

"As a fifth-year student, you will be expected to take your OWLs this year. Do you believe your last establishment has prepared you for your examinations?"

"I guess," you shrug. You'd never had any trouble getting good grades in the past but Professor Umbridge didn't look convinced. Scribbling something down on her parchment, she pauses for a moment to meet your eyes.

"I would suggest acquiring a tutor for additional support. I can arrange for one of your peers to meet with you."

"That's quite alright, Professor." You dread to think of the tutor she would assign you; probably someone very studious and strict. Boring comes to mind too. "You're much too busy to concern yourself with such a task. I believe I'm quite capable of finding someone on my own."

"It is great to see a young witch taking some initiative," Her smile felt more genuine this time whereas yours was awkward.

"If that is all, may I go?"

"Of course. Run along dear" Slowly rising, you wish you could actually run out of the office and never come back but you proceed calmly. Only stopping by the door when you hear her speak once more. "But do keep in mind what I've said. We wouldn't want you falling in with the wrong kind of wizards while you're here. I expect your last school taught you how to conduct yourself."

"Thank you for your time, Professor Umbridge." With a bow of your head, you slip out the door with a sigh of the utmost relief. She was a very... intense woman to be around. After one meeting, you had another but this time it was with your head of house. Having arrived so late, you didn't partake in the sorting ceremony; which honestly you were kind of grateful for. Having to be sorted with a bunch of eleven-year-olds in front of the whole school definitely would have followed you around. Professor McGonagall briskly glides down the hallway as you stumble a few steps behind. She was the head of Gryffindor.

"I hate to be a bother but Professor Umbridge suggested I get a tutor and I was wondering if you might know a suitable candidate? With having started a few weeks after everyone else and OWLs fast approaching, I thought it was best to be safe than sorry"

"Your transcripts from your previous school don't suggest you'll have much trouble but a tutor may be beneficial," The older woman glanced back at you with a warm smile. "I have the perfect witch for the job. She's a real credit to Gryffindor. You were in Thunderbird previously?"

"Yes ma'am. Thunderbird House was considered to represent the soul of a witch or wizard and favoured adventures," you announce proudly. "I've never felt like much of an adventurer myself though."

"I'm sure you'll be a grand edition to Gryffindor. I may be biased but we're the best house at Hogwarts."

"I don't doubt that," Although you had no clue about any of the other houses to compare. "If you don't mind me asking Professor, where are we going?"

"To introduce you to your new tutor. She's in your first class so I thought I would escort you."

"Oh," You scramble forward a little faster to keep up with the woman; falling into step. "Do you think she'll be enough? I transferred at such an awkward time."

Hogwarts castle was as big as you'd imagine which made the journey to your first class seem like an eternity. As you're led down the hallway and into the dungeon, it's like the atmosphere completely changes. It's dark and cold down here. She comes to a stop outside a classroom, you peer around Professor McGonagall to see students sat at desks with small cauldrons placed before them.

"Can I speak to Miss Granger?" McGonagall asks of the teacher. He didn't seem too happy about the intrusion but he doesn't object. After a moment, a girl with luscious locks of mahogany brown steps through the door; she looks worried.

"Have I done something wrong, Professor?" Her eyes fall to yours and you offer up a small smile which she returns.

"Of course not. I just wanted to introduce you to our newest student. She'll be joining Gryffindor and was in the market for a tutor. As one of the finest students in all of Hogwarts, I thought of you."

Her eyes seemed to sparkle in response to the praise. "I would be happy to help, Professor."

It was becoming more clear that whoever this girl was, she was very eager to please. It was written in her body language or the way she addressed McGonagall. She introduces herself as Hermione Granger before heading back into class to ensure she doesn't miss anything. The nerves set in as you realise you're supposed to follow.

"A new student for you, Professor." Guess there was no turning back, you step through the archway. It was rather dull and dark but it matched the feeling of the dungeons. The shelves were lined with varying ingredients and while students had previously been working on potions, now all their attention was drawn to you.

"A little late for new additions," The man spoke slowly; he had a nasally sound to his voice. His displeasure transformed into a scowl aimed directly at you. The whispers of nosey students fill the awkward silence

"I'm-"

"Just take a seat," He demands and you didn't think twice about it. Hurrying to the first open seat you could find. "We don't have time for frivolous introductions."

Potions class had never been something you had struggled with but it seemed that the Professor - whose name you had come to learn as Snape - seemed to be making it as difficult as possible. Every question was thrown at you despite other students who will not be named being so eager to answer them. They were also specific questions such as where to find certain ingredients within the confines of the UK which you had no clue. You knew today was going to be a very long day.

Lunchtime approached and nothing felt more daunting today than being in a room full of students and not knowing a single one. You park yourself down at the end of Gryffindor table, food lined the middle and you grab a few sandwiches placing them on your plate. You're not sure if it's relief or something else when you spot the only girl you knew so far come to join you; followed by some friends.

"McGonagall gave me your timetable," She announces, sitting down opposite you. "and I have created a schedule that ensures we have enough time to cover everything."

"When did you have time to make this?" You wonder, taking a bite of the sandwich you'd picked up. It wasn't half bad.

"Never underestimate Hermione's ability to do a boring task," Next to her sat a boy with ginger hair; he wore a welcoming smile on his face that was peppered with freckles. "I'm Ron by the way."

The others that had arrived alongside Hermione, introduced themselves one by one. There was Ginny Weasley who was related to Ron; even if she hadn't told you it wasn't hard to figure out. Then there was the famous Harry Potter. A name you knew only in passing; rumours spread all around the world about him. Hermione slides a piece of parchment across the table. Along the top sat the days of the week and down the side were hours within the day. They were colour coded by type so each potion class and potion study sessions were in green and so on. Pretty much every square had been filled in with one boring task or another. "This is... a lot."

"Considering our classes this morning, you seem rather behind so I thought it was best that we take every opportunity to bring you up to speed," Having moved to England, the accent and speed in which they spoke was rather hard to understand but you don't bring it up. "We have a lot to cover before exams."

"I'm actually rather good at potions," you protest. "Professor Snape was asking me weird questions. How am I supposed to know where to find things, I've only just moved here."

"Snape can be a right git," Ron mumbles through a mouth full of food.

"You're from America, right?" This time it's Harry who speaks. There's a part of you that wants to ask about his scar but considering you've just met it seemed too rude to voice.

"Yes," you nod. "I attended Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry until my father insisted on sending me here once we moved."

"Hogwarts is the best wizarding school in the world." Hermione declares. "Or so I've read."

"I liked my old school," You'd grown used to the mechanics of Ilvermorny plus you had friends there. "Hermione, no offence, but I would kind of like to have a little fun while I'm here and this leaves no time for literally anything else? What about clubs or quidditch?"

"Studying is fun. What could be more beneficial than acquiring new knowledge," Hermione's expression is genuine but you can't see yourself thinking studying is the epitome of fun any time soon. "I will not let Professor McGonagall down by not preparing you properly. So that means hard work- we will start after lunch."

"Is she always like this?" You turn to the others.

"Pretty much." They all agree. Maybe this had been a mistake?

"So you're the new girl, huh?" A shadow lingers over you and you look up to the culprit. That vibrant red hair seemed to be everywhere, you frown a little before looking to Ron.

"Heard you came all the way from America." Another one appears beside him, a broad smile on display. Twins?

"They're my brothers," Ron answers the question before you can even ask. There sure were a lot of Weasleys in this castle.

"How many Weasleys are there?"

"I have six siblings, Ginny is the youngest. Bill, Charlie and Percy have already left though."

"I'm Fred." One of the twins announces, patting your shoulder a little. "The most handsome Weasley brother."

"I'm George and I'm much more handsome than that git," He shoves his brother playfully.

"You're identical twins,"

"No, we're not," George protests. "Fred here is adopted. I can't believe you think we look the same."

"I'm offended you think I look like this tosspot, I'm much prettier." He dramatically pretends to flip his hair over his shoulder.

"We can show you around if you like?" They both offer; as bad as it sounds you knew you were gonna struggle remembering who was who.

"We know every corner of this place." Fred declares

"Every nook and cranny." George continues. "We also the guys to go to if you ever need anything- think fanged frisbees or puking pastels. We've got you covered."

"Uh..." Glancing to your timetable, you hold it up for them to see. "I don't think I'll have time for a tour between classes and study sessions."

"Shame."

"Guess we'll see you around then, Miss America." They both leave you alone to finish your lunch.

Written down Hermione's schedule was a lot but attending sessions was ten times worse. The constant studying was exhausting; how she was able to just keep going was crazy but impressive. Today was Arithmancy study in the Gryffindor common room. You were sat beside Hermione at the desk; sketching her side profile on the parchment filled with unfinished sums as she explained what she was doing. Every so often she'd look at you and you'd look away. Careful not to get caught staring as you perfected each delicate line that made up her face.

"And that's how you get fifty-six- see?" Hermione shows you her work, tapping the answer with the tip of her quill.

Staring at the answer didn't make much sense but neither did the working out. You hadn't been listening at all so you flash her a sympathetic smile. "I don't get it,"

"Are you even paying attention?" Her brow crinkled; her quill falling to the desk.

"Yes-"

"Let's see your work then?" Before she can grab it, you drag your parchment away. Smothering the contents with the palms of your hands.

"No."

"Show me." She requested firmly. Eyes narrowing in on you as if issuing a challenge. With a heavy sigh, you back down. Handing over your work.

"Fine. I wasn't paying attention," You admit with a shrug; leaning over the back of the chair to stare up at the ceiling. "Arithmancy is just so boring."

"You chose to take it,"

"My parents forced me to take it," You correct, glancing back at her. Taking your parchment between her fingers, it's hard to miss the rush of colour that floods her pale cheeks. You didn't think your drawing was that good; definitely not even close to some of your other work. If anything you were embarrassed by how bad it was.

"It's pretty rough like I could do better if I had more time and my pencils" Drawing provided you with a distraction when it was most needed. You'd only started a year ago but it quickly developed into your hobby of choice. Learning to sketch people had been tough but after spending pretty much every class, staring at your fellow students you had gotten decent at it.

"It's..." Hermione trails off, handing back your work. "Can you please focus?"

"We've been at this for hours." A long groan leaves your throat as you slump down in your seat. Arms folded over your chest.

"Just a few more questions before we finish,"

You were finally growing used to your life at Hogwarts. Most of your time was spent with Hermione but you did manage to convince her to ease up a little. She grew busy with a club or something so she was more than happy to leave you to your own devices.

"You wanted to see me, Professor," you announce, entering the pink lion's den. It was somehow looking even pinker than the last time you stepped foot in here.

"Ah yes, please do take a seat. I'll be just a moment." Dropping your bag down beside the chair, you sit in the seat she signalled to. There wasn't a lot of time before you were supposed to meet Hermione to practice some charms. After a moment, Professor Umbridge speaks up. "Do you know why I've asked to see you?"

You shake your head slowly.

"Do you remember what I told you when you first arrived?"

"To get a tutor? I don't believe I'm falling behind in my classes." Hermione had been a great teacher overall; ensuring you understand everything before moving on although Snape still had a habit of asking you questions you didn't know. Was this about that?

"I'm referring to your choice in companions."

"Oh," you swallow hard. You didn't know what to say to that. Since arriving you'd started hanging with Hermione and her friends. You'd also found yourself drawn to the Weasley twins on the odd occasion. "Uh... I can assure you I've made friends Professor."

"I've noticed," she didn't sound pleased "Professor Snape also mentioned that you've been a wee bit disruptive in his class."

"That's not a fair judgment-" The words leave your lips sharper than intended but fall short when you notice the crease across the other woman's forehead.

"As headmaster, you must realise that I can't allow you to disrupt the way this school runs. Therefore you will be punished." Other than getting questions wrong, you wouldn't say you've done much else wrong in Snape's class. It wasn't fair that you were being punished for something so trivial but speaking up seemed like a one way trip to something worse. "Don't look so worried. You'll just be writing lines for me."

"Writing lines," you repeat cautiously. That seemed easy enough before you could reach into your bag, a quill and piece of parchment are placed before you. "What do you want me to write?"

"I must not fraternise with muggle-borns,"

"What does that have to do with Snape's class?" You wonder.

"Just do as your told," Umbridge quips quickly. "I do believe you've been seen around the castle with Miss Granger, correct?"

"Hermione?" You hardly believed Hermione had done anything to step out of line. Plus what did that have to do with anything? You were allowed to be friends with whoever you wanted. "Of course she is my tutor after all."

"It seems it may be more than that," Umbridge's sickeningly sweet giggle fills the office. "Now please begin."

"You haven't given me any ink?"

Striding behind her desk, she takes a seat and offers a smile. "You won't need any,"

Picking up the quill, you twist it between your fingers trying to figure out its secrets. It was black in colour, long, thin, and looked to be extremely sharp. Clearly, it was an enchanted quill if it didn't need ink. The tip glides across the paper with ease, gracing its surface with the ridiculous phrase you'd been forced to write in shiny red ink. How many times was she expecting you to do this? Hermione wouldn't be happy if you turned up late to one of your study sessions... again. A weird tingling spilt through the back of your hand before transforming into a sharp pain as you write the phrase a second time. Each letter appeared on your hand as you write it as if etched there by a scalpel. You drop the quill and the words slowly fade away but not without leaving your hand red. "Keep writing," Umbridge draws your attention, peering over from behind her teacup. You take a deep breath and write I must not fraternize with muggle-borns, the searing pain returned to your hand as you saw the phrase carved into your skin. You flex your hand as if that would relieve the pain but again the wound heels over. You no longer stopped between each line, the burning in your hand now a constant but it seemed after so many times the phrase was no longer fading. The hand on your shoulder startles you; the quill slipping from your grip.

"I think that's enough, you're free to go." Grabbing your bag, you leap out of your seat and rush for the door. "As a witch of your social standing, you should know better."

Head down, you charge through the castle to go meet Hermione but your speed slows as you realise tears prick your eyes. Dropping down on the nearest bench, you bury your face in your hands. Surely that kind of punishment wasn't allowed?

"If it isn't our favourite American." Head shooting up, you spy Fred and George. After all this time, you were beginning to be able to tell them apart.

"Why so glum, chum?" Your eyes drift just briefly to the scar on your hand. The twins taking up space either side of you.

"It's nothing- I'm fine."

"If you're fine, why are you crying?" Fred puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

"I'm not crying," but you have to wipe your cheeks to make sure. "I just..." you couldn't explain why you were so upset. Your thumb brushes over the back of your hand.

"Oh- it's no so bad," Fred squeezes your arm gently, they must have figured it out. "It'll fade soon enough."

"And it doesn't hurt very long, look." George shows you the back of his hand, you can't even read what it was supposed to have said. It doesn't make you feel better. "Don't cry, she's not worth it."

"Can you two leave me alone?"

"Nope," George's thumb brushes away a stray tear before tapping you on the end of your nose. You couldn't help but smile a little as you scrunched up your nose.

"We don't leave pretty sad girls alone in corridors to cry." Fred insists. "How about you show us what she had you write?"

Unsure about the decision, you let the two of them see what Umbridge had done. George takes hold of your hand, inspecting it carefully. "I must not fraternize with muggle-borns," George reads out quietly. "Do much fraternizing do you?"

"I don't even know any muggle-borns," Is all you say in response. Muggle was such a dumb word.

"Uh... Hermione? Aren't you two like best friends," Fred comments

"Hermione is No-Maj-born?" So that was why Umbridge had seemed so interested in your relationship. It was clear she held prejudice against No-Majs so it was only logical that she was trying to keep you, a pure-blood wizard, from mixing with Hermione, A no-maj-born.

"No-maj?" George questions

"Right, no-maj stand for no magic? You call em muggles." You sniffle, drying your cheeks properly.

"Ah no-maj." they both repeat.

Feeling a little better the twins escort you to your courtyard for your session with Hermione. She was packing up her textbook when she finally notices you. 0What did I tell you about punctuation? I will not tolerate sitting around here like a fool- if you do not wish to take your studies seriously then don't bother asking me to tutor you at all." The fire behind her eyes brings you to tears only this time they were hot and fast. Spilling down your face as a result of being yelled at. Hermione's expression drops, your tears extinguishing the fire. "I- Uh... sorry. I didn't mean-"

"I-It's alright," With the sleeve of your cardigan, you try to wipe away all evidence of your breakdown.

"What's wrong with your hand?"

"Umbridge," You don't even try to conceal it now. "I don't think she likes that we're hanging out."

"I'm sorry she did that to you," She takes your hand in hers, her fingertip dancing delicately over your scar. It was ripe to the touch causing you to flinch a little; pulling your hand away. "You should tell your parents."

"And cause more trouble?" Was she crazy? "I don't want to give her any more reason to drag me into the office again."

"Then... if you don't wish to continue our study sessions, I would understand. I don't want to get you into trouble." Hermione fidgets with the strap of her bag, unable to look you in the eye. It was probably the smartest choice to never hang out with Hermione again. It would certainly save you from future punishments but if you did that you'd undoubtedly miss her. She'd become such a constant In your life, you could imagine it without her in it.

"I like our sessions together," You declare, offering her the warmest smile you could muster. "Can we skip today though? My hand stings and I'm really not in the mood anymore."

"Sure," Her smile looks almost sad in comparison. "Should we go get some dinner?"

Finishing up packing, the two of you head for the great hall. There was no way Umbridge was gonna dictate who you can be friends with even if it meant more punishment.

Christmas approaches fast and brought with it a merry aura that filled every inch of the castle. You linger in the courtyard with your suitcase waiting for Hermione. She promised to meet you before you left but had a commitment to attend to first. You don't question her but you do wish she'd hurry up; it was awfully cold out here. It's a miracle when she finally shows up, a bright smile as she approaches

"I just wanted to give you this before I go." Digging through your pockets, you produce a folded up piece of paper; taking a few steps closer.

"What is it?"

"Open it," The nerves settled in your stomach as she unfolded the paper. This time, using your pencils, you'd manage to create an almost collage of sketches. Each one of the girl who stood next to you right now during different times in the past month. It seemed like a nice little farewell gift. "Have a good break, yeah?"

"These are... you're really good." Hermione meets your soft gaze. Her face pink in colour but that may have been due to the cold. "Thank you." She wears a small, embarrassed smile. "When did you have time to draw these?"

"Never underestimate my ability to avoid my responsibilities and draw pretty girls instead," you tease. Leaning toward you place a kiss against her cheek before pointing to the address you'd written on the bottom. "Write to me."

#Hermione Granger #Hermione Granger x reader #Hermione x reader #Harry potter #hermione granger imagine

509 notes · View notes

camillejeaneshphm · 3 years

Text

Camille Jeanes’s profile:

BASIC INFO

Quote by Character: “Sometimes things will go wrong, and that’s okay !! All we can do is keep moving forward.”

Full Name: Camille Angelique Jeanes

Nicknames: Millie, Ray of Sunshine, Catgirl, Arachne

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Lesbian

Alignment: Neutral Good

Species: Witch

Blood Status: Pureblood (technically)

Date of Birth: 23/09/72

Race/Ethnicity: Half-Indian/Half-French

Nationality: Citizenships in France and England

Short Bio: Camille was born in the town of Carentan, in the French province of Normandy. She speaks French as her first language, and continued to speak it exclusively until her parents’s disappearance when she was seven. After that, she learned English while in the foster care system.

Personality: Shy, empathetic, kind, generous, self-sacrificing

Languages: English, French

Likes: Baking, Hogwarts, her friends, the scent of vanilla

Dislikes: Liars, any form of bigotry, flying class

Greatest Flaw: Naïveté

Greatest Strength: Kindness

Place of Residency: Carentan, Normandy, France

Hogwarts, Scotland

Future Career: Baker, Curse-breaker

APPEARANCE

Hair Color: Dark brown

Eye Color: green

Skin Tone: Deep tan with gold undertones

Height: 5’2 by Year 7

Weight: 185 pounds

Physique: small and chubby, though with impressive muscle mass underneath

Style Choice (what they like to wear): Sweaters, leggings, summer dresses, boots

Accessories: Amethyst pendant

Inventory: Wand, quill, a bit of extra cash

Scars: Various childhood scars, frostbite burn (missing a left toe), scars on the webs of her fingers from retractable claws

Face Claim: written description, Vidya Balan with green eyes

Voice Claim/description of what they sound like: none

MAGIC

Wand Description/Picture: Vine wood, Unicorn Tail Hair, 12 ¾ inches, very springy

[The druids considered anything with a woody stem as a tree, and vine makes wands of such a special nature that I have been happy to continue their ancient tradition. Vine wands are among the less common types, and I have been intrigued to notice that their owners are nearly always those witches or wizards who seek a greater purpose, who have a vision beyond the ordinary and who frequently astound those who think they know them best. Vine wands seem strongly attracted by personalities with hidden depths, and I have found them more sensitive than any other when it comes to instantly detecting a prospective match. Reliable sources claim that these wands can emit magical effects upon the mere entrance into their room of a suitable owner, and I have twice observed the phenomenon in my own shop.]

Wand reaction when chosen: Excitement at having her first wand

Boggart: Drowning

Riddikulus Form: Though it’s difficult to laugh at drowning, Camille manages by turning the water into a silly-looking ice sculpture

Patronus: A single robin

Patronus Memory: The scent of the sea in Normandy

Animagus: Mountain Lion

Amortentia (what they smell like): Vanilla and pine, with a touch of the earth after a good rain

Amortentia (What they smell): Old books, leather, steel

Mirror of Erised: All of her friends with their problems solved

Misc. Magical Abilities: Wandless magic, a twisted sort of healing in which she can heal, but can hurt in the same way.

Favorite/Created Spells: Expecto Patronum, Riddikulus, Depulso

SCHOOL LIFE

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Ilvermorny House: n/a

Organizations Joined: Circle of Khanna, Order of the Phoenix, briefly a member of Dumbledore’s Army

Apprenticeships: Worked under Rakepick in Year 5 for a short time

Professions: Baker, Muggle Studies teacher

Best Subjects: Charms, COMC, Transfiguration, Astronomy, Herbology

Worst Subjects: Potions, Flying

Favorite Teachers: Mcgonagall, Flitwick, Sprout

Least Favorite Teachers: Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Rakepick, Madame Hooch

Extracurricular (Clubs and Sports): Baking Club, Duelling Club

Class Proficiencies (OWL grade, n /10 or ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆):

Astronomy: 9/10

Charms: 10/10

DADA: 8/10

Flying: 6/10

Herbology: 10/10

History of Magic: 9/10

Potions: 7/10

Transfiguration: 9/10

Care of Magical Creatures: 9.5/10

STATS

Power (magic): 8/10

Power (physical strength): 7/10

Intelligence: 9/10

Skill: 9.5/10

Teamwork: 8/10

Speed: 5/10

Defense: 9/10

RELATIONSHIPS

FAMILY:

Father:

Alexandre Jeanes, a kind and intelligent man who worked for the French Ministry until his disappearance in early 1980, not true biological father. Faceclaim: Gerard Butler

Biological Father: Sora Ichika, who she doesn’t meet until her late teenage years (@demon-twins-and-co)

Mother:

Anjali Patel Jeanes, a kind and impulsive woman who, up until her disappearance in early 1980, was an Auror. Faceclaim: Bipasha Basu

Siblings:

Jacques Denis Jeanes, a kind, though closed-off, young man. He disappeared while searching for the Cursed Vaults and eventually met his demise in the Portrait Vault. Faceclaim: Varun Dhawan

Dimitri di Angelo, her half-brother and extremely close friend. They share a biological father.

Other Relatives (optional):

Virginie Amélie Jeanes: Camille’s grandmother, refuses to take her and Jacques in

Friends:

Closest In-Game Friends:

Rowan Khanna

Bill Weasley

Ben Copper

Chiara Lobosca

Tulip Karasu

Victor Ketsueki

Closest MC friends:

Matthew Luther (@hphmmatthewluther) - Matthew is more of a brother to Camille than anything else. They always support each other, even during the occasional fight.

Daniel Clark (@akaisenhatake)

Adel Young (@adellovesrowan)

Cato Reese (@catohphm)

Hanako Mori (@oseathepebble)

Isabella Dubois (@endlessly-cursed)

Colette Belrose (@gcldensnitch)

Love interest:

Merula Snyde

Dorm mates:

Orion Houston (@mysecret-hphm-blog)

Vixen McMahen (@rae-tenya)

Verna Malinda (@gaygryffindorgal)

(one open spot !!)

Rivals:

Merula Snyde

Enemies:

Patricia Rakepick

The Wizard In White

Camille Bellecourt (thé manifestation of her magic)

Pets: none

OTHER

Family Background/History:

Anjali Patel Jeanes was an Indian immigrant to France, where she met and married Alexandre Jeanes. After having two children together, those who were unhappy with Anjali (an Auror) caused both of the Jeanes adults to go missing.

Miscellaneous:

Camille’s animagus is originally a housecat, but changes when Rakepick attempts to kill Rowan Khanna.

Camille will never use an Unforgiveable curse.

She loses an eye in the Battle of Hogwarts.

She has trouble differentiating his attractions from platonic feelings, and so develops puppy crushes easily. (ie: on Matthew Luther and Adel Young)

#pinned post #hphm #camille jeanes #character profile

35 notes · View notes

theweasleyslytherin · 4 years

Text

i knew you (ron weasley x reader) part 1

masterlist: part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14

summary: Ron inexplicably broke up with Cassiah Black just days before their final year at Hogwarts, leaving them both with broken hearts and no future plans, but too stubborn and too proud to fix things. The centuries-old rivalry between their Gryffindor and Slytherin houses only make things worse, and friendships are truly put to the test. Will they find their way back together before the year ends, or will the end of their time at Hogwarts be the last time they ever see the each other?

warnings: angst, drug/alcohol use, eventual smut ;)

CHAPTER 1 - the first day without you

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long 'Cause I knew everything when I was young

Cardigan, Taylor Swift ____________________________________

Ron Weasley was a mess. He had been since he'd broken up with Cassiah that fateful summer afternoon, just days before he and his classmates were returning for their senior year. Now he was starting his final year at Hogwarts single and without his girlfriend, but more importantly, his best friend.

Sure, he had Harry to mess and joke around with, but Harry wasn't much use for anything more serious. It wasn't like he could talk to Harry about stuff the way he did with Cassie. He'd never felt that comfortable with anyone before – even before they were dating, he had always been naturally drawn to her, naturally inclined to trust her with his most troubling of thoughts. Before he and Cassiah were close, he used to sometimes talk to Hermione about that sort of thing, but now that he'd broken up with Hermione's best friend, she wasn't really an option anymore either.

He slumped down onto his bed, across from Harry's as usual, and sighed wistfully. Here he was, about to start his final year, and he had no future plans. All his friends chatted excitedly about what lay ahead for them, but for Ron, his only plan had been building a life with Cassiah. Now, he was completely lost and floundering trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. The worst part was, the only person who he felt comfortable opening up to about this desperate, insecure feeling of the unknown was Cassiah. Not even his brothers were here now.

They had however, given him a bit of home to take with him, or a coping mechanism of sorts. Ron glanced quickly around the room to ensure that no one else had arrived yet – not that any of the boys would care, they'd come to expect this after knowing him for so many years – and pulled a mason jar full of weed out of his backpack. It absolutely reeked as he ground it, and he sighed in relief as he packed a bowl and took the first hit. Thank fucking Merlin for Fred and George.

Just then, Seamus entered the room and gave him a huge, sly, smile before hurrying across the room to slap Ron across the back, "Weasley, my man, never wasting time, huh?" Ron passed Seamus the bowl and the lighter and smiled lazily,

"'Ve had a rough go of it today, mate."

Seamus looked at him, puzzled by this confession, but shrugged it off quickly as just another one of Ron's grumpy mood swings. The thing was, as crushed as Ron was about his breakup with Cassiah, hardly any of the guys knew about it yet – it's not like he was going to owl them about it, Jesus – and those who did know about it had no idea that Ron was going through it. It was his decision, so he figured he had no right to bitch and moan about it.

The boys cashed the bowl between the two of them before the other guys came in, all chattering loudly about their summer, and the excitement of the new school year. Ron had honestly been dreading being around all of his friends and having to think about life at Hogwarts without Cassiah, but now that he was significantly higher than he was then, he was happy to see them.

"Ron!" Harry shouted before pulling his friend into a huge bear hug, or as much of a bear hug as someone almost half a foot shorter than he was could give, "Sorry I lost you after the train, I was with-"

"I figured," Ron stammered, not wanting to hear about Harry's reuniting with his little sister because for one, she was his little sister, and more importantly, it was a reminder of how crushingly single he was. "S'alright, then. I'm completely starved though. We should probably head down to the Great Hall for dinner."

"Brilliant," Harry said in reply, and Ron's lips tugged into a sort of half-smile at his friend's typical response. He and Harry and the other guys all headed out of the dormitories, through the common rooms, and all the way to the hall. Ron was feeling completely himself, almost forgetting for a moment about his breakup among the excitement of being home again. That is, until they reached the steps leading to the entrance of the hall.

He froze. The Gryffindor dorms and common rooms were safe. He didn't have to worry about running into Cassiah there – she wouldn't be there unless she was personally invited by him. But the Great Hall? This was the first time since he broke up with her that he'd have to face the very high possibility of seeing her.

Harry eyed him cautiously, and wrapped his arm casually around Ron's shoulder, "It's alright mate. Just walk in and sit down at the Gryffindor tables with your friends, yeah? No big deal."

Ron nodded quickly, embarrassed that Harry had seen through his cool facade.

Of course, she was the first thing he saw when he walked into the room, her brunette hair pulled into a simple low bun. He knew if he looked too long, he'd look right into those beautiful eyes that shine hazel against her green Slytherin robes. Merlin, green really was her color. She was talking animatedly with her friends from Slytherin. They weren't her best friends, that would be Hermione, but that was one of the things Ron loved the most about her. Cassiah could get along with anyone from any house, and she'd be an equally amazing and loyal friend to all.

He felt a wave of nausea rising in him just from thinking too long about the idea of Cassiah noticing him, so he ducked his head and rushed to catch up with the guys and take his seat. His stomach growled loudly, and one of the guys made a stupid joke about his appetite, earning his laughter. He couldn't help but notice how Hermione was sitting not with him and Harry, as usual, but down the table with Ginny and some other girls. Point taken – she was pissed at him. He'd been friends with Hermione longer than Cassie had – he'd actually introduced them – but the two had been fast friends so her loyalty wasn't that surprising.

It still stung, though. Not that he'd let anyone know that.

Dumbledore went through the pomp and circumstance of announcements about the new school year, introduced the seemingly annual new professor, and issued some vague warnings that he knew he could pretty much ignore as a final year. He pretended to pay attention as the first years were sorted, but he was distracted by his thoughts. Cassiah was a prefect this year, and he couldn't help but think about how she was going to do such a good job, and make sure that all the new Slytherins were comfortable.

Finally, it was time to eat and the feast was revealed. Grateful for the distraction, Ron piled his plate as high as he could balance with meat and potatoes and gravy and rolls. Smoking before the feast, he considered absently, was definitely a brilliant idea.

________

Across the dining hall, Cassiah was chatting quietly with Pansy and Daphne about their plans for the night. The other two girls were going to sneak into the Slytherin boy's dormitory and get drunk on Firewhiskey, and they wanted Cassiah to come with them. She'd assumed that she would be spending the night in the library with Hermione, and then maybe sneaking her friend back into her new prefect room for a sleepover, but realistically, Hermione wasn't gonna go for that type of rule-breaking anyway. She snorted – how was she the one out of the two of them to become a prefect? The irony wasn't lost on her.

Firewhiskey sounded pretty damn good right now, though. Cassiah hadn't been drunk since her break up, but hell if she didn't want to be right now.

For the first time since her initial survey when she entered the room, she allowed herself to look around – to look for him. And there he was, red hair making him stand out like a sore thumb. A really handsome sore thumb with a laugh that felt like coming home. His hand-me down robes had gotten a bit too small across his now-broad shoulders over the summer. Obviously, she'd seen him many times since last school year, but the difference was so stark in his old robes. His blue-green eyes were red-rimmed with the tell-tale sign of his favorite habit (besides Cassiah, of course) and his cute freckled lips were busy absolutely destroying what she could only assume was at least his third helping of food. Everyone gave him shit for his massive appetite and apparent hollow leg, but Cassiah thought it was cute. She thought everything about him was cute. And fuck, now she was fighting off tears in the dining hall.

"Don't look," Pansy said into her ear, giving her a squeeze, "You're better than he is, anyways. You're fucking Cassiah Black."

"Yeah, you're right," Cassiah mumbled in return. She cleared her throat, hating how weak and wavering her voice sounded, "We're getting drunk tonight ladies."

Daphne snorted, "First night as a prefect and already a savage. I love it."

________

"Personally, I've always loved single Cass," Draco raised his voice to be heard over the music and slung his arm lovingly over Cassiah's shoulder, the widest of smiles playing across his normally sullen face. "Shots?" he asked her, and she raised her eyebrows at him in response.

"Obviously," she said, holding out her cup and letting Draco slosh a generous amount of Firewhiskey into it. She cheersed him quickly and threw it back, definitely more than one shot's worth of liquid burning down her throat. She wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

"Atta girl," Draco grinned and swigged again from the bottle before passing it to Cassiah, who always prided herself on being able to keep up with the Slytherin guys. It'd been a while since she'd thrown down with them, however, because she always felt guilty partying when Ron wasn't invited, and she'd honestly missed it. She and the guys, especially Draco, had been a lot closer before she started dating and spending all her time with Ron and she felt like she had to choose, and Slytherin parties were always the wildest. Probably fueled by the money and the privilege.

"I love this song!" she announced to no one in particular, and broke away from Draco to enter the circle of students who were dancing drunkenly in the center of the dark room. She grabbed Draco and Blaise's hands, twirling them both around and forcing them to dance with her. Pansy appeared out of nowhere, and Cassiah wrapped her arms around her friends neck sensually and got her to dance with her, too. She really was the life of the party.

"He's missing out on the baddest witch and bitch in our year," Pansy said light-heartedly, laughing over the music, and Cassiah joined her, actually feeling okay for the first time. Maybe tonight would be the first time she didn't cry over him.

Fuck, she wished he was here. She wanted to dance on him with all her friends and show off the dorky couple moves they'd practiced when she visited the Burrow over the summer. They were always the fun couple at parties. What happened?

Suddenly her eyes were prickling with tears again, and Pansy's face crumbled with concern, "Oh, Cass, I didn't mean to make you cry, babe."

"No, I know, I know," Cassiah nodded assuredly, "Draco! Firewhiskey, now."

________

Ron and Harry were up to their usual misadventures, the rules never really having been made for them to follow. They were tucked under Harry's invisibility cloak, creeping down to where the Slytherin common rooms were. They had a plan to screw with Draco, something about swapping his fancy new robes for ones that were a couple sizes too short, and there was no better night to do it than this one. Thankfully, Ron still remembered the password from the nights when Cassiah would sneak him into the Slytherin dorms, and he and Harry were going to put that knowledge to good use.

They crept into the common room, seeing that there was a party going on, mostly with students from their year. Ron glanced around the room, not seeing Cassie thankfully, but spotting an array of substances scattered around the room. And he thought that he and Harry got away with a lot of shit... Ron couldn't even name some of them – he was strictly an herbal man, after all.

"This is bloody brilliant! They'll be so distracted they'll never even know we were here," exclaimed Harry under his breath, and Ron laughed quietly, but it was swallowed up by the music.

________

"I'm just gonna get some air," Cassiah informed Daphne and Pansy before turning away from the small crowd and heading down the hall to the prefect's rooms and bathroom. The Firewhiskey had certainly hit her, and so had a wave of sadness she wasn't really expecting. She contained herself just until she shoved the bathroom door open and then she burst.

It was quiet for a moment, just the sound of her own ragged breathing as silent tears streamed down her face, until a familiar voice sounded and a hand rested comfortingly on her shoulder, "Cass? What's wrong?"

Draco. Of course, this was their bathroom to share.

"I-I don't know. I mean, I do know," she stammered, the room spinning just the slightest bit around her in a way that would not normally be unpleasant. "Everything was so perfect between us and then he rips it all away like it was nothing. I feel so stupid, walking around all year telling everyone that he was my future... it's humiliating. I don't understand what I did wrong to make him do this," explained Cassiah, finally breaking and folding into Draco's arms. She hiccuped as she cried, her tears muddied with black eyeliner as they soaked into his robes.

Draco pet her brown hair softly with one hand while the other rested over her back, rubbing comforting circles, "Oh, Cass. You did absolutely nothing wrong, it's just he's completely mental. I'm so sorry." She looked up at him for a moment, black tear stains on her face and nose red from crying. He pursed his lips together, silently cursing Ronald Weasley's name, and gently grabbed her hand, "Come on, now. Why don't we go clean you up before you head back out there. Don't let them see you sweat."

Cassiah nodded in agreement, following him meekly into his room. It was nearly identical to hers, covered in brilliant green and elegant silver, except his walls were adorned by shelves with Quidditch trophies, and a total lack of family photos.

She sat down quietly on the bed, and Draco busied himself by digging through his bags. He produced a piece of fabric before crossing the room and sitting next to her on the bed, crossing his legs and facing her. Not many people saw this gentle side of Draco outside of his immediate friend group, but he'd always had a soft spot for Cassiah. She found herself wishing for a moment that everyone else could know him like this so that they could understand, but he would never allow it.

The piece of fabric was a hanker-chief, deep green silk embroidered with a monogram on the corner, DM. He reached out slowly and wiped first under her eyes, collecting the salty tears and running makeup that had gathered there, and then wiped gently under her nose. Cassiah allowed her eyes to flutter closed, feeling so loved and comforted by her friend despite her shattered heart.

________

"First room on the left," Ron whispered to Harry, giving the other boy directions as he had been to the Slytherin dormitories before. The door was already ajar, so they didn't need to worry about an unlocking charm or a password, and Ron gave it a gentle push open.

What he saw in front of him made his stomach drop to the floor, and he could practically feel Harry's face burn red with anger on his behalf. Draco's back was turned to them, sat on the bed, but next to him, close enough that Malfoy was reaching out and touching her face, was Cassiah, with tear stains on her pretty pink cheeks.

All plans of robe-related pranks flew out the window, as did the need for secrecy and invisibility, and Ron threw the cloak off of him, completely exposing himself to the pair on the bed.

Cassiah's eyes widened as she gasped, too shocked to see him to say anything at all, and Draco turned to follow her glance. He noticed how her eyes immediately had refilled with tears that had already begun to spill again.

"Weasley! What the fuck are you doing in here? Get out!" he shouted, rising to his feet and marching towards the ginger boy.

"What am I doing? Never mind that, what in Merlin's name are you doing? Taking advantage of a drunk and crying girl?" Ron exclaimed, completely exasperated at the scene in front of him. He was angry at Draco for taking advantage of her, in denial that she might be moving on, and not thinking clearly at all. He reached out and grabbed Draco by the fabric of his fine wool sweater, and was about to shove him as hard as possible.

"Stop it! He wasn't taking advantage of me! And you gave up the right to be concerned anyways, so leave us the fuck alone!" Cassiah shrieked, jumping to her feet and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Ron and Harry both stared, completely bewildered, and Draco ground his teeth, "I would recommend that you and your friend leave immediately, Potter, or I'll have no choice but to report you."

Ron retreated back to the Gryffindor dormitories with his tail between his legs, and absolutely fuming. Cassiah had moved on in a matter of days. He was sitting around moping over a girl he saw future with, and she didn't even give a damn.

Well, he'll show her just now fine he is. If she doesn't give a damn anymore, then why should he? ____________________________________

I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter. Ron is so annoying with his whole "i'm fine it's fine" act but I love him anyways. Plus, I literally live and breathe for stoner!Ron.

Published on my Wattpad (halebscallison) and my Tumblr (theweasleyslytherin).

I love you all so much just for getting to this point!! stay tuned for chapter 2 xx

#ron #ron x reader #ron weasley #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley smut #ron weasley x reader smut #harry potter #hogwarts #ron weasley fanfic #harry potter fanfic #ron x original character #angst #draco malfoy #draco x reader #slytherin reader #ron x slytherin

144 notes · View notes

vibraniumwing · 3 years

Text

love isn’t for us.

an oliver wood x reader wherein there are certain things people can have, maybe love wasn’t for the both of you.

WARNING: angst, just angst. mentions of blood, death and swearing.

A/N: okay so this is an anonymous request from my 100-follower celebration and now we have our lovely quidditch captain, Oliver wood !! i hope you guys would love this and cry (as much as i did) when i was writing this. yeah i won’t consider this as blurb anymore.

request: “could i get a 🥳 with oliver and the sentence ‘i’m sorry we couldn’t have forever, love.’ could it also be really angsty?”

---

they say when people die, the life that person had flashes through their eyes in the mere seconds of their last breath before finally leaving the earth.

---

You and Oliver were a solid team, having grown up together, it was safe to say that the both of you were inseparable. The only time would leave his side was either during classes and/or his quidditch match and practices but aside from that? you were never out of his sight.

Some even say that you’re the only one that Oliver loves more than Quidditch; and if you know that man well enough, he’s absolutely smitten for that game.

That being said, you two got together in your fifth year and everyone swooned and finally breathed properly from waiting on the love story that you have with him.

But sadly, not all love stories have happy endings.

After the two of you graduated, you entered your to be an Auror while Oliver continued his dream of being a professional Quidditch player. The first few months of you having very different schedules went fine, the both of you adjusting your schedules for dates and cuddle nights.

Until the fights came, the throwing and smashing of whatever the both of you can grab during your heated moments. It was all going south, with the Dark Lord rising once again, you had more extensive trainings and long hours with your superiors about what’s happening. Oliver had been on his training with Puddlemere, going on tours and whatnot for the tournaments, there was just no time anymore.

It wasn’t the same anymore.

Another fight ensued from the both of you after he shrugged you off quite easily after you asked him how his day went, with him passive-aggressively answering that it was alright. You on the other hand, didn’t want to put up with his moodiness and asked him what his problem was.

“What the fuck is your problem, Oliver?!” You asked him hands slamming down the table as you stood up, eyes piercing directly into his. He scoffed and crossed him arms, rolling his eyes at you.

“My problem? Are you even sure that it’s my problem? (Y/N). Take a look into the mirror and ask yourself.” He answered, his voice slowly rising as he stood up, his nerves now getting the best of him again.

The second stage of you guys fighting ensued, you threw your chair behind as you walked in front him, “What the fuck does that even mean?! All I asked was how are your day and your ass is here being all passive-aggressive!”

“Because you can cut the bullshit, (L/N). When was the last time you even asked me that?! I know you don’t care!” His voice bellowed through the apartment. Admittedly, his voice was always loud because of him shouting during his days as a Quidditch captain but nothing prepared you for that.

Those words he said was like a knife that stabbed right through your heart and his words echoed through your mind.

“Do you really- do you really think I don’t care anymore, Oli?” You asked, voice now broken as your arms fell to your side, tears brimming your eyes. “You know how hard my training is right now, right? How hard it is to keep on fighting everyday without uncertainty if I get to go back home?” You continued, not even bothering to wipe the tears that are free-flowing to your cheeks.

Oliver was at a loss, he, himself was surprised at his own words. He stood there quietly as you continued to speak, “If that’s the case then, I’m sorry Wood, but we’re through. I can’t do this anymore.”

His heart was shattered at the sound of your voice, but he couldn’t even move. How can he even talk to you when he said such harsh things that caused you to cry? He couldn’t bear the thought.

Your sobs filled the now dead silent house as you quickly packed up your clothes, not even even bringing your other belongings as you walked out the room you both shared- or shall we say, once shared.

“Just so you know, Oliver, I never stopped caring about you, I can promise you that. I love you, Oli.”

And just like that you were gone, and he didn’t even stop you.

---

“C’mon! Hurry up, let’s go!” Oliver’s voice boomed through the air as he dashed down to Hogwarts, the flashes of green and red lights filled the once peaceful school yard as loud booms commenced from left and right of the castle.

The Second Wizarding War was already happening yet the fear of dying here wasn’t Oliver’s concern. It was you.

All he wanted to see was you be alright, to be safe and sound after all of this commences. He was dead set on finding you before the war ends, to tell you he made a mistake, to tell you that he needed you, to tell you that nothing was the same with you.

---

Fighting left and right, he couldn’t seem to find the (H/C) locks he had grown very familiar with and the panic was already eating him up inside. He ran through the Great Hall to see if you were there to no avail, he passed through multiple students who were trying to escape the wrath of the death eaters, nearly falling through the pieces of rubble that was scattered throughout the whole school just to find you

But alas, he couldn’t even see you.

He sighted a familiar ginger who he once shared a dorm with, “Percy!” He shouted, running straight to his old friend. “(Y/N)! Have you seen (Y/N)?!” His voice was strained from shouting too much, tears threatening to fall.

“I’m sorry, Wood but I haven’t sighted her just yet. I’ll tell her I’ve seen you though.” Percy answered, giving his friend a smile as he patted his shoulder. “Focus on yourself first and then find her!”

He gave the ginger a nod and ran once again, his wand flickering through as he fought, until he got cornered. He shut his eyes as one of the death eaters were nearing him when he heard a familiar voice cry out, “Stupefy!” and when he opened his eyes, the man was gone.

What replaced him was smiling you, shaking your head at him. “How stupid can you get, Wood?! What were the disarming tricks Flitwick taught us? For display?”

He laughed along with you as he slowly approached you, “(Y/N), I missed-”

Suddenly a loud boom erupted from your side, and the next thing Oliver saw was the wall crushed over once where you were standing at. The color drained from his face as he ran over to where you were, “NO! No, no no!”

His hands pushed through the rubble as students came to help him push away the big blocks, until he saw your hair and soon enough, your limp body. “(Y/N)! Hang on in there, okay? I’m almost there!”

With the amount of adrenaline coursing through his veins, he pushed the last big piece away and pulled you from under the wall, taking you into his arms as he ran to the Great Hall where most of the bodies lay.

He placed you down a stretcher and immediately called out for help, taking your hand in his as he placed his other hand on your hair. “Hang on in there, love. Help is almost here, okay?”

With the remaining energy you have left, you opened your eyes and stared into his brown ones, giving him a small smile as you coughed up blood. As you shut your eyes, you realized you were in your final moments.

---

“(Y/N)! Look at how high I am!” a nine-year old Oliver boasted as he zoomed through the field on his broom, his laugh reaching you from the ground. He looked down at you with a rather smug grin. “Can’t get up here, shorty?” He teased, waving his hand from up high.

You grumbled softly and marched over to the spare broom on the ground, readying yourself to fly up next to him, “I’ll show you, Oli!” as you floated off the ground, until you suddenly lost control of the broom and fell straight back down to the field.

“(Y/N)!” Oliver shouted, coming back down to the ground and rushed to your side, hand brushing through your locks as he asked, “Are you alright? Why did you even attempt that?”

You smiled at him softly and said, “I just wanted to be good as you, Oli. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“No, (Y/N). I’m sorry for not being there for you at once.”

---

“Hurry up, (L/N)! We’re almost there!” Fifteen year old Oliver’s voice resonated through the field in your backyard, running towards a tree that was set in the middle of the vast land. A big smile was on his face despite being out of breath from running too much as he watched you run towards him.

“I swear on Godric Gryffindor if this is something useless- Oh my Merlin, what on earth is this, Oli?” You suddenly asked him as you saw a blanket laid out with various treats. “Is this a date, Mr. Wood?”

“Only if you want it to be, Ms. (L/N).” He humored back, sending you a playful wink as motioned you to sit down with him. The rest of the afternoon was filled with laughter as the both of you shared stories from Hogwarts and whatever the sun could shine on.

“Before I could forget, come here.” He motioned you over to the tree as he pulled out a knife and carved his initials unto the tree. Oliver had a big smile at his work as he faced you once again, “I carved this into the tree as a sign of the promises I will be sharing to you today, (Y/N.” He started off, his cheeks now starting to flush as he spoke.

“I, Oliver Wood, promise to keep you safe from all harm. I promise to keep you happy and content throughout the days of us being together. I would always care for you and I promise to love you until my very last breath.” He finished off, the smile on his lips even larger as you took the knife to carve in your own initials, placing it by the blanket as you stared back at him.

“I, (Y/N) (L/N), promise to be your shoulder to cry on when you have those days, to be someone you can trust and put your heart into. I promise to be your person and home when the day arrives there is no one else by your side. Lastly, I promise to make you happy, to make you feel that you are cared for and that you are loved by me, for eternity.”

The scottish man had the brightest grin as he cupped your face and pressed his lips against yours for a gentle kiss.

“I love you, Oli.” “I love you too, darling.”

---

“(Y/N)! Wake up!” Oliver’s voice broke your thoughts off as you stirred, your body as weak as ever. You could barely feel anything except for the pain that shot through you.

Your eyes met his once more and gave him a sad smile, “It’s time, Oli...” You croaked, tears filling in your eyes as you brought a hand up to hold his cheek, thumb caressing his skin gently as he held unto you.

He shook his head in denial, “No, baby. You have to fight, remember all the promises we shared? I know you’re not the one to break promises, right? Darling please, don’t give up. We can fix you straight up.” He rambled on, voice breaking as tears spilled out from his eyes, lips kissing your hand as he tightened his grasp, like is life depended on it.

“Of course I remember the promises, Oli.” You said weakly, feeling yourself slowly slipping away from reality, from this life. “I’m sorry that I failed in showing you that I care for you, my love.” You apologized, a sad smile forming on your lips as you felt yourself slowly slipping away from this reality, from this lifetime.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have forever, love.” You whispered, heaving in your last breath as you fell back into slumber.

“No, no, no! (Y/N)! Wake up! Wake up right now and tell me you’re just playing a cruel joke!” Oliver shouted, shaking the lifeless body of the one he loved. His body trembled as he hugged you close to his chest, face buried into your clothes as your familiar scent filled his senses, making him cry even more.

Just like that, you were gone from him again, this time there was no return.

#vea hits a hundred #this pained me so much #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood imagines #oliver wood angst

111 notes · View notes

host-club-hq · 3 years

Text

Call of the Scar pt. 2

➼ pairing: harry potter x reader

➼ genre: sfw, fluffy, fantasy

➼ word-count: 2.9k

➼ summary: Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley embark on their great journey together in their fourth year at Hogwarts. What does this unsuspecting year hold for them this time?

➼ part 2 of many :)

➼ want to request? do it here. let me know what i can write for you :)

➼ talk to the characters!

The campsite is a ruin now, drifting in smoke. A child appears, tear-streaked, wailing for his mother. Harry is still lying upon the ground. His eyelids flutter...

A figure strides through the teeming smoke like a ghost. The man pauses, surveys the devastation before him, and lifts his wand into the sky.

"MORESMORDRE!"

A peal of thunder shakes the earth and an eerie green blooms in the sky. Harry squints painfully, gripping his scar and peers up. A colossal skull of emerald stars erupts in the sky, a serpent coiling from its mouth. A shriek pierces the night and Harry's eyes shift, finding the motherless boy a few yards away, howling in terror at the sky.

Harry looks back, toward the man in the distance, and sees he's coming forward. The shrieking boy turns and darts away. Harry's fingers reach for his wand, eyes squinting through the smoke, trying to see the approaching man's face, but all is still a blur, the smoke like black fog, the man a wavering wraith as he draws closer and closer...

"Harry!"

Harry's heart unclenches at your voice and he audibly sighs in relief. Hermione, Ron, and you- tiny dots- race across the campsite. The man stops, looks, then withdraws into the smoke and vanishes.

"Harry!" you call again.

"Thought we'd lost you, mate. And then..." Ron nods nervously to the sky.

"What is that?" Harry follows his eyes to the monstrous thing in the sky.

"Don't you know...?" Hermione asks, confused.

Just then, a popping fills the air and- one after another- ten ministry wizards apparate into view, wands poised.

"DUCK!" Harry exclaims, and the group does as told.

"STUPEFY!"

As they hit the ground, ten jets of fiery red light electrify the air inches above their heads.

"Stop! Those are my children!" Arthur dashes to the rescue.

"Are you lot alright?" Arthur breathes hurriedly.

"Which one of you conjured it?"

Harry and the others turn and watch Barty Crouch- a stiff man with a toothbrush mustache and steely eyes- emerge through the haze.

"Mr. Crouch, you can't possibly-"

"Do not lie! You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!" Crouch points his wand shakily to all of the teens, alternating between each one.

"Crime?" Harry states incredulously.

Crouch wheels, pointing his wand directly at Harry, eyes glittering lethally when... he notices Harry's scar.

"Barty. They're just kids." Amos interjects. Harry watches Crouch blink. You side-step in front of Harry and draw him close to you. Crouch lowers his wand.

"What crime?" Harry speaks again.

You turns to him and nod at the sky. "That... it's the Dark Mark, Harry. It's... his mark." you whisper carefully.

"Voldemort?" Harry questions. You shush him. "You can't keep saying that..." you remind.

A disturbed murmur ripples through the wizards at Harry's utterance of the name. Ron looks particularly pained.

"Why do you always have to do that?" He sighs.

"Those people tonight- in the masks- they're his too, aren't they? His followers."

"Death Eaters." Arthur confirms solemnly.

Harry considers his, then gazes back down the beach, toward the spot where the mysterious figure appeared.

"There was someone before. A man. There." Harry points. Everyone turns to look.

"A man? Who, Harry?" you eye him carefully.

"Dunno. One minute he was there, then... not. I never saw his face. Could've been anybody..." Harry is beginning to realize that his witness is of no value without any facial recognition.

Harry glances upwards, clinging to the sky like a stain is the Dark Mark.

Hogwart’s Express

Students hang out of compartment doors, talking and laughing while an old woman pushes a candy trolley up to Harry, Ron, yours, and Hermione's compartment.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" The trolley witch asks, out of breath.

Harry and Ron leap up, while you and Hermione continue to read the Daily Prophet. There's a photograph of the Dark Mark, a headline screams: "TERROR AT THE WORLD CUP."

"I'll have a pack of Droobles. And a licorice wand and..." Ron digs into his pocket and frowns. "On second though, just the Droobles."

"S'alright, I'll get it-"

"Just the Droobles." Ron firmly interjects for Harry.

Ron takes his gum and quickly ducks back into the compartment. Harry frowns, feeling guilty, when a sweet voice sounds.

"One Pumpkin Pastie, please."

Harry turns and finds a very pretty dark-haired girl standing by the cart. Sensing Harry's gaze, she looks up and smiles. Taking her treat, she heads off.

"Something sweet for you, dear?" The trolley witch leans to speak to Harry. He looks down at her.

"Huh? Oh. No. I'm not... hungry." He decides. Harry watches Cho's lithe figure retreat, watching until she slips into a compartment and is gone.

"Head out of the clouds, Potter." you call from inside the compartment as the trolley witch moves to the rest of the train. Harry diverts his attention to you, seeing you haven’t even lifted your head from the Daily Prophet. He rolls his eyes.

"This is bad. Very bad..."

Harry turns and sees Hermione shaking her head darkly behind the Prophet's screaming front page. Harry considers the image of the Dark Mark and accompanying article: "DARK MARK STIRS OLD FEARS (First Sighting in Thirteen Years)," then eyes the photo of the article's author, Rita Skeeter. Hermione snaps the paper shut and stares at him.

"It's hurting again, isn't it? It was hurting that morning too. The day of the World Cup?" your gaze is gentle and concerned, but Harry doesn't reciprocate. Ron, full of gum, stops chewing, eyeing Harry with trepidation.

"I'm fine." Harry snaps. Your hand withdraws from his shoulder without a word. Hermione's eyebrows furrow and her eyes briefly flicker from you to Harry with distain.

"Suit yourself. But at least tell him. You know he'd want you to." Hermione eyes Harry with determination. He sighs.

"DEAR SIRIUS"...

Harry rolls up the parchment, fixes it to Hedwig's leg, and lets her fly free of his hands and through the open window.

Hedwig soars high, leaving the train behind as she knits her way across the sky. On the horizon, a castle appears.

The Hall glows magically, decked out for the start-of-term feast. Albus Dumbledore addresses the House Tables from the top of the Hall while Flitwick, Hagrid, McGonagall, and Snape look on. Filch flowers from the rear doors.

"Mr. Filch, our beloved caretaker, has informed me that the list of objects forbidden within the castle now includes Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, Ever-Bashing Boomerangs, and Chocolate Marshmallow Bunnies." There is a mischievous beat before he continues. "I'm joking about that last one. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items and may be viewed in Mr. Filch's office." Dumbledore smiles.

"Mental. Always has been." Ron grumbles from where he sits at the Gryffindor table.

Harry grins and glances to the Ravenclaw table, seeing Cho grinning appreciatively at Dumbledore as well. You follow his gaze and smirk. "Catching feelings, are we?" you mumble just loudly enough for Harry to hear, who turns.

"What?" He asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"The Chang girl. Pretty, isn't she?" you glance back at her. Harry suppresses a smile.

"Shut up." He pushes you.

"Not likely." you shrug.

"Now. There is, apparently, a rather nasty rumor flying about the school that Quidditch will not be played this year. That rumor, I'm here to tell you... is absolutely true." Dumbledore announces with suspense. Indignation fills the Hall. Dumbledore smiles in amusement.

"There is an explanation. You see, Hogwarts will this year play host to a legendary event. An event that has not taken place in over one hundred years... the Triwizard Tournament." Excitement hakes the Hall, one voice ringing clear:

"You're joking!" Fred exclaims. You put a hand over her face and peek from under it, watching as your classmates watch your brother make a fool of himself and hiding from under the palm of your hand.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley. For those of you know do not know, the Triwizard Tournament was originally conceived some seven centuries ago as a way for the three largest European wizardry schools to engage in a series of magical contests while their respective student bodies experienced the benefits of cross-cultural social intercourse."

A crackling, albeit bewildered, silence hangs in the air.

"In other words: One got to spend the entire year getting to know people who spoke a funny language. Unfortunately due to a distressing high death toll, the Tournament was cancelled..."

Hermione's brows knit together with dark concern.

"Then why the bloody hell are they bringing it back?" you lean over Hermione's shoulder to voice her concerns. Hermione leans back and reciprocates her expression. "You're asking the wrong person, Y/N." she sighs.

"... until now. Tomorrow, delegations from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magical Arts and the Durmstrang School of Wizardry will journey to Hogwarts. This year, our home will be their home. I ask only that you endeavor to make it a happy one."

Students- Harry, Ron, you, and Hermione among them- crowd the parapets, buzzing with anticipation. Far below, Dumbledore has assembled the staff as a kind of welcoming party.

Suddenly a rumble fills the sky and a team of winged Horses cleave the clouds, pulling a gigantic powder-blue carriage. Through one of the windows, a beautiful woman peers down. With an earth-shaking thud, the carriage lands.

Just then, great bubbles roil the glassy surface of the Black Lake and a long black mast pierces the water, rising higher and higher. A black ship rises out of a great rushing whirlpool of water, looking skeletal and ghostly in the half-light. A dark figure strides out onto the deck- tall, thin, ad sleek.

Students scramble into position and turn expectantly to Dumbledore, who stands before the staff. You notice a man near the back and nudge Harry. It's Barty Crouch.

"What's he doing here?" you ask in a low whisper. Harry shrug without a word and diverts his attention.

"Please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic!" Dumbledore bellows.

Music begins- light and fanciful- and a woman in a diaphanous gown strides into the courtyard. She is beautiful. She is elegant. She is ten feet tall.

"Blimey. That's one big woman." Seamus stares shamelessly up at her.

Then, one by one, a procession of stunningly beautiful Beauxbatons girls enter in graceful synchronization. Clad in silky, skin-clinging robes, they make a decided impression on Ron- and every other boy present. You and Hermione are less persuaded.

"It's indecent to stare at women like that, idiot." you shove your elbow into Ron's and he grunts.

"Lay off, would you?" He sneers, earning your tongue sticking out at him in retaliation.

Suddenly, one after another, they pitch themselves forward and cartwheel to the top of the courtyard where, allayed in a circle, they wait for their last two members: Fleur Delacour, a particularly luminous girl, and her 8-year-old sister Gabrielle, who is her double. Vaulting side-by-side to the center of the circle, Fleur pulls out a silk scarf, dangles it from her fingertips, and 'spins' Gabrielle like a top.

The courtyard roars with approval. Hermione rolls her eyes and you take notices.

"Can you believe the lot of them?" you sigh. Hermione nods in agreement.

"You're just jealous you're not as pretty as them." Ron snickers. Your expression remains unfazed.

"You do remember I'm you're twin, Ronald?" you inform with a sheer, angered tone. Both Hermione and Harry burst out laughing, Ron's cheeks growing hot as the smile disappears from his face. You smirk to yourself.

"Madame Maxime. Welcome to Hogwarts, my dear." Dumbledore welcomes with a large smile.

"Ah, Dumble-dorr. You are well, yes?" A thick French accent is heavy laden over Madame Maxime's words.

"Blooming." Dumbledore ignores the fact that his name has just been mispronounced.

Madame Maxime steps away, passing Hagrid. His beard twitches. Suddenly, the thrum of balalaikas fills the courtyard.

"And now... our friends from the north! Please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang!"

Igor Karkaroff- tall, sleek and arrogant- strides forth, trailed by a regiment of stoic Durmstrang boys in dark fur cloaks. A pair of sleek black panthers- eyes glittering like gold- pad sullenly at Karkaroff's side. As Karkaroff reaches the top of the courtyard, he glances about imperiously.

"Dear old Hogwarts. It's so..."

"Perfectly imperfect?" Dumbledore suggests. Karkaroff smiles and turns to Snape, who nods curtly.

"Igor." Snape acknowledges.

"Severus. Long time, no see. And Barty. I almost didn't recognize you. You look so... tired. Sleeping well these days?" Igor grins.

Crouch glowers. Karkaroff smiles, then snaps his fingers. A quartet of Durmstrang boys bring torches to their lips and spit dazzling comets of fire into the air. Enthusiastic applause from all.

"Oh my God! It's him!" Ron gasps and straightens.

Harry looks. At the end of the line, brooding behind his shadowed brow, is Victor Krum. Just then, Flitwick- striking his finest conductor's pose- lifts his arms before a ragtag band of students and a discordant tune fills the courtyard. Instantly, the Hogwarts students serenade their visitors with a glorious cacophony, then Hogwarts Anthem"

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts....

Teach us something please

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff

For now they're bare and full of air

Dead flies and bits of fluff."

Karkaroff raises an eyebrow.. Maxime struggles to hold a smile. Dumbledore beams.

"We just might have the worst school anthem ever written." you groan as she cover your face with your hands while the school continues to sing the horrid song.

"I never will understand who wrote it and why." Harry sighs in exasperation.

"Dead flies and bits of fluff? Why in Merlin's name is that necessary?" you scoff. Harry chuckles.

"Maybe if they're talking about you." Harry mutters. You gasp and turn to him.

"How dare you? My grades are better than yours have ever been." you whack Harry on his upper arm and he scowls at you.

"Not better than Hermione's." Harry reminds with a smug expression to which you roll your eyes.

"Hermione is inhuman, no one can have the grades that she has." you inform. Harry considers this a moment and nods.

"You're right." He sighs.

"So we bid you truly welcome

You are a funny lot

But any guests of Hogwarts

Can't be all rot!"

You snicker to yourself at the last few words and Harry nudges you, struggling to suppress a smile himself.

"It's not funny." Harry's lips twitch upwards as he wags a scolding finger at you as you laugh.

"It's a little funny. Can't be all rot?" you snort and induce laughter within Harry, who covers his own mouth in attempts to keep from disturbing the welcome. "Stop it." He pleads and shoves your shoulder with his own.

"Quiet, the both of you. There's nothing to laugh about." Hermione scoffs, which only results in harder laughter from the two of you. Hermione rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. "Honestly."

"Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here." Dumbledore sighs as the song comes to an end- thankfully for the two students in stitches.

Everyone feasts. Bewitched by Madame Maxime, Hagrid stares down the tall table to where she sits... and absently spears Professor Flitwick's hand with his fork. Karkaroff eyes Crouch darkly, then turns and sees that Snape is watching him. Smiling thinly, Karkaroff tips his goblet.

Harry eyes the Ravenclaw table, where the Beauxbaton girls sit and Fleur converses with Cho. Ron stuffs his face and stares at Krum, who sits with the Slytherins.

"Brilliant, isn't he?" Ron speaks up as he chews slowly, in a trance.

"He's eating." you smack your brother's shoulder and push his face to look at something other than Krum.

"Why d'you suppose they've been put at the Slytherin table?" Harry's eyebrows furrow as he peeks over at Durmstrang every now and then.

"Birds of a feather. Durmstrang puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts." Hermione takes a bite of her meal as she informs the group.

Hearing this, Harry's eyes shift, considering Karkaroff.

"Wishing it was you over there instead of Krum, are you?" Ron suddenly pipes up. Harry turns to see who he's talking to- and it's surprisingly his own sister.

"Ronald, what in Merlin's name are you talking about?" Hermione sets down her fork and leans forward to glance at Ron incredulously.

"What? Everyone knows Malfoy's got a thing for her. As much as I hate to admit it. That guy's the worst." Ron grumbles. You scoff in disbelief. You turn to look at the Slytherin table and then quickly back to your brother.

"Now what would provoke you to say such a thing?" you laugh humorlessly. Harry looks to Ron expectantly.

"Malfoy's a git to all of us." He reminds. Ron sighs.

"Especially to Y/N- don't you see it?" Ron looks around expectantly. Everyone looks at him with vacant expressions and he groans.

"Everyone knows the boys who tease the girls the most fancy them." Ron states like it's obvious and everyone around him is an idiot.

"That's like saying Malfoy's got a thing for Harry. Harry, do you think Malfoy has a thing for you?" you glance over at Harry and stare at him.

"What? No. That's... weird." Harry shivers to even think about that. "I'd prefer you never mention that again." He requests. You ignore him a moment.

"Besides, Ron. I'm related to you. Of course he hates me." you snort as you return to your meal. Ron shrugs without another word.

27 notes · View notes

aprilsrant · 4 years

Text

Praised be writer’s block | Young!Remus Lupin x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: in the midst of an upcoming war and worries about the future, (Y/N) bonds with an unexpected person, golden boy from gryffindor house himself.

WORD COUNT: 3,000, more or less…

A/N: this is my first time doing this, so if you have any suggestions please let me know! also, if you can, reblog so it can reach more people, it’ll help me a lot.

All of this wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for @peeves-a-legend, which btw is an amazing writer. I can’t thank you enough!

Masterlist.

The gif below is not mine, credits to the original maker. And yes, I see robert sean leonard as a young!remus, but you can imagine whoever you want.

In one of the few sunny and warm mornings left of the season, (Y/N)’s mother had dragged her to Diagon Alley to buy her school’s supplies. The term for her sixth year was about ten days away from starting and going there didn’t thrill her anymore. She had retarded the visit as long as her mother’s patience lasted (which wasn’t a lot considering the woman had belonged to Hufflepuff), and no one had been succesfull on finding the reason, althought her mum suspected it.

(Y/N) hadn’t felt the rush of excitement run through her body in a long time when she thought about going back to Hogwarts, and buying supplies meant she was only a step closer. Her first two years were more than she could ever ask for, but everything came crashing down on her at the young age of thirteen.

(Y/N) had started to notice the repulsive look on people’s faces whenever she tried to help them, all looking down at her green robes as if she had grown a third arm or a second head overnight. She realised, with now a heavy weight on her heart and a new insecurity over her mind, that not all Hufflepuffs were kind and inviting. Maybe, she supposed, they were too proud to accept help from anyone else.

Or perhaps, (Y/N) was too naive to think she could defy centuries of old stereotypes and unhealthy competitions while wearing a green and silver tie.

But the rude comments and weird stares had not affected her in such a long time. She didn’t show them how angry she got about those and how much she wanted to scream at those Gryffindors to get over themselves, because if she did, she was proving their point. All snakes, young or old, end up being violent creatures. Instead, a new feeling of uneasiness had settled in her mind, washing away her minor problems.

Peace no longer reigned over the Wizarding World. Rumors of a war were spreading like wildfire. Voldemort’s ranks got bigger and bigger with the passing time, and more muggle families and muggleborns were being wiped out, like they meant nothing. In those dark times, not having magic or being from a family with the wrong kind of ancestors, could determine your doom.

In her case, she wasn’t at the top of the Dark Eater’s food chain as a halfblood, but that didn’t ease her nerves. She was more worried about her father, a muggleborn, her grandparents and several other friends. Many of their families wanted to go into hiding and she knew that this year and the others to come, Hogwarts wouldn’t be so magical.

Once they passed through the brick wall at the Leaky Cauldron, their first stop was the Apothecary, which (Y/N) had refused to enter because of the disgusting smell of bad eggs and something more repulsive she didn’t identify. Instead, she decided to visit Quality Quidditch Supplies. It’s not like she played the sport, Merlin knows how awful she was at throwing or hitting things, and playing as Seeker was not an option. But she always attended the matches, channelling every single piece of energy her body had onto cheering for Slytherin’s team.

(Y/N) made her way to one of the corners of the shop, wanting to see the newest Quidditch gloves her best friend had talked about so much in her letters. Maybe she could get her a new pair for her birthday, so she could start the season with brand new gloves. But looking at the price, she realized a cheappier gift would have to do. Her family wasn’t the richest and she knew her parents were struggling with money lately.

“Expensive, aren’t they?,” asked a voice from behind her. She turned around, one of the gloves still on her right hand, and noticed that the voice belonged to no other than Remus Lupin. She was lying to herself if she said he wasn’t good looking. Those dark brown eyes and soft hair had gotten to her when they were in their fourth year. (Y/N) had spent weeks, maybe even months, crushing on him and, of course, annoying her friends to no end about how perfect he was and how he was one of the few decent members of the lion house. But she never tried anything, she had a long list of excuses that, maybe, exceeded the many numerous reasons why she liked the Gryffindor so much.

“Definitely,” (Y/N) finally answered with a grimace in her face, “I thought I could get a pair for my best friend’s birthday since she’s a Chaser, but I’m not so sure now”.

Remus offered her a small smile and muttered something about how her best friend would appreciate anything she would give her. After that, neither of them said anything and only the noise of other people’s chattering could be heard. She looked around the store, trying to think about something that would lead to more talk, while Remus put his hands in his jeans’s pockets and changed the weight of his body to his left leg.

A few more seconds passed and (Y/N), not tolerating the awkward atmosphere anymore, was the one to initiate the conversation this time.

“So, um, Remus, are you, um, planning on joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team? Since, you know, you are… here”.

Merlin, her sister was right, she did need to start socialising more.

“Oh no, not a chance,” he answered letting a snicker escape his lips. (Y/N)’s mouth turned into a little smile because of the sound, not noticing at first. “I’m just here because of James and Sirius, they wanted to see some new brooms that came out this…”.

Remus words were interrupted by the same people he’d just mentioned. James Potter and Sirius Black, the most known students at Hogwarts, were walking towards them. (Y/N) tried to put on a neutral face, not showing her true thoughts on the two boys.

It wasn’t that she hated them. At some point, she had found her pranks on those horrible Slytherins funny, but after last year her opinion on them changed drastically. It appeared to be that they couldn’t distinguish who were the “good” Slytherins therefore they’d just played cruel jokes on every single member of the house. Or maybe, they didn’t think Slytherins could be nice and decent people, so all of them deserved to be made fun of.

“REMUS!,” they both shouted at the same time. Almost everyone in the shop turned to see them, and as (Y/N) moved uncomfortable with a scowled look because of the new, and unwanted attention, she wondered why they had to be so bloody loud all the time. “We were looking for you, but it seems you have found some company”.

Remus’s cheeks changed to a soft crimson after Sirius’s comment.

“Careful now, Rem, snakes tend to bite and some of them are poisonous.” James’s eyes shined with mischief as he spoke.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at that, but instead of keeping quiet as she normally would, she responded to Potter’s remark, surprising the others and herself in the process.

“Excellent observation, James. Now, how much time did it take you to come up with that and for how long you’ve been wanting to use it? Perhaps, it was after that particular Quidditch match where Slytherin shredded you into pieces ”.

His face no longer showed a fun expression, but, in it’s place, was a face with narrowed eyes trying to hide the fact he had been caught. (Y/N) smiled at that, she was not this kind of person but it was good to see Potter embarrassed after he had humiliated her in front of half the school just a few months ago. She knew Sirius wanted to say something to save his friend, but as his mouth was starting to open to spill some sarcastic or stupid comment about her house, Remus stepped in.

“Sirius, don’t say anything, just leave her alone,” he began, giving the pair a pointed look with his eyebrows raised, “we were only talking, there’s no need to start acting as if she’s going to bite my head off”.

Dumb and Dumber, as one her Slytherin friends liked to called them, stared at Remus like he had transformed into a Hipogriff. (Y/N), as surprised as she was, glanced at him with a confused, yet somehow grateful, look on her face. In return, he smiled at her and grabbed his friends from the shoulders, making them walk towards the door while mentioning something about having to meet up with Peter at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor.

Before reaching the door, Remus turned around, let go of Sirius for a moment and waved at her with a grin, one that made her cheeks blushed and her stomach flipped.

|||

It had been months since the interaction between her and Remus, plus James and Sirius. A small smile and a certain glow in her eyes stayed present on her face for the rest of the trip to Diagon Alley with her mother, who had not missed the sudden shift in her daughter’s appearance.

She hadn’t talked much with him again (only a few more times because of their prefect meetings), but the little interactions between them remained. Like the gentle and kind smiles they would send to each other while walking in the school grounds and greetings from afar with a short wave of the hand.

Winter break was just around the corner when they met again. Both wrapped around heavy coats, gloves and scarfs protecting them from the cold wind and the freezing fog. (Y/N) would have been pissed about her feet getting wet from the snow if it wasn’t for the outstanding landscape it created. A pure scenery, grounds and trees and roofs of the castle covered in white, in such terrible and corrupted times.

“Lovely, huh?,” he mouthed.

What is it with this boy and sneaking up on people?

(Y/N) nodded, still unable to tear her eyes from the view. When she finally did, she became aware of how close they were, elbows almost touching. Releasing a shaky breath, that quickly changed into what it looked like fog, (Y/N) peered at him. The end of his nose was red, matching his cheeks, while his lips were pale and dry from the weather. It was an adorable sight, perhaps even more worthy of her attention than the snowflakes falling from the sky.

“What makes you go to Hogsmeade on this particular frosty afternoon, (Y/N)?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Remus,” she exclaimed, the corners of her mouth quirking up as she mentioned his name, “but, if you really like to know, I’m heading there because I forgot about some Christmas’s presents. What about you?”

Without perceiving it, they had both started to walk towards the small town, making their way through the layers of snow.

“I just, um, wanted to visit Hogsmeade one last time before, you know, going home.” For a moment, (Y/N) had the idea of hearing some kind of hesitation while he spoke, as if he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was saying.

This time, (Y/N) would not let the conversation turn awkward so rapidly, after all this was her chance of having an actual opportunity with Remus. So she swallowed the majority of her nerves, which were quite a lot, and planted a smile on her face. But before the words could come out of her mouth, Remus himself had beat her.

“Would you like to come to the Three Broomsticks with me?,” he questioned.

It took her a few seconds to understand what he had asked because of how rushed he’d spoken. Her eyes widened at the notion of going on a date with him. Was it even a date? A small voice wondered inside her head. Ignoring it, she replied with a short yes. His entire demeanour immediately transformed. Remus’s eyes didn’t hold too much worry now and a large smile decorated his face.

The trip to the popular pub was shorter than it normally was, but (Y/N) guessed that had been for how much she and Remus talked while walking to the town. When they arrived, the warm and cozy ambient, although a bit smoky and crowded, received them like a bright lamp post in the middle of nowhere pointing out the pathway. Even if (Y/N) loved winter and snow, a hot butterbeer didn’t seem too bad after being exposed to the cold wind.

Sitting down at one of the tables from the right corner of the shop, right next to a large window and giving the back to one of the walls, she could see the entire place. But her eyes were now glued to the Gryffindor seated in front of her, who was trying not to look like he was going to pass out from the nerves of having a date (was it a date?) with the most gorgeous girl in Hogwarts, maybe even the whole world.

They passed the rest of the afternoon getting to know each other, chatting regarding the things they loved and hated from Hogwarts; complaining about professors and the amount of homework they sent; laughing because of some ridiculous story told by Remus (he swore his breath got caught in his lungs as he watched her throwing her head back while letting out a loud laugh, eyes shining with happiness and not caring, for the first time, about the looks from the people in the place). They discussed their favourite muggle authors, the most amazing films that had ever been made and their dreams after finishing their education.

(Y/N) had felt herself falling all over again for him while watching him talk about how much he’d loved being a professor and being there for his students. The passion and shine in his eyes rivaled even the brightest star in the night sky.

And Remus had seen the same expression in her face when she talked about becoming a known writer in both the muggle and wizarding world. Despite her excitement, he recognised something else in her eyes, perhaps uncertainty or even sadness. When he asked about it, (Y/N) confided in him the fact she was scared about trying it.

“What if it’s a waste of time? What I’m supposed to write about?”

“It won’t be a waste of your time if it makes you happy,” he reassured her, “and the ideas will come to you, don’t worry. You can even write about us.” (Y/N)’s eyes quickly made their way into his after hearing that. “I mean, about this part of our world”. She couldn’t help but feel quite disappointed.

“Wouldn’t I be violating the Statute of Secrecy?”

Remus raised his shoulders a little as he pressed his lips together, clearly trying to stop a smile from forming in his face.

“It’s not like the Ministry is going to find out,” he whispered, so only (Y/N) could be able to listen to him, “ who’s going to tell them about it? Me?”

A scoff left her mouth and she rolled her eyes playfully at him. Was this really happening? Remus Lupin, the boy she had a crush on in her fourth year, sitting in front of her, encouraging her to follow her dreams.

“Is the Golden Boy and Prefect of Gryffindor House actually saying that I should just break an International Law?” she joked while shaking her head in disbelief, “McGonagall would be so heart broken”.

Now it was his time to roll his eyes. Directing a smirk at her, he leaned back in his chair, more relaxed and with a new light glowing around him.

“Look, I would love to write about this world. But ambition is not the only trait that got me in Slytherin,” (Y/N) declared. She beamed when he furrowed his brows together in confusion, getting closer to the table and placing his elbows on top of it. “Violating that Law is having a death wish and self preservation is one of my top priorities”.

“I can’t help but agree to that”.

The hours kept running and people began to leave the pub, but not them. They had stayed until the owner told the teenagers he was closing. Not (Y/N) nor Remus had noticed where the time had gone. Quickly, they collected all of their belongings and left the establishment in a hurry. (Y/N) didn’t want to think about the punishment they’d received if they were caught.

Fortunately, they made it to the castle in one piece. Once they were a few meters away from the entrance, they started to laugh. None of them knew why, it just seemed like a good time to do it.

“What happened to you and your advice of breaking the rules?” (Y/N) said in the middle of a laugh.

“I hope this doesn’t become a tradition, Mr. Lupin, Ms. (Y/L/N),” a stern female voice said in front of them. Professor McGonagall was standing gracefully in front of the door, her arms crossed over her chest and a furious expression implanted in her face.

Remus and (Y/N) looked at each other, the same thought running through their minds. They were so screwed.

|||

December 25th.

Dear (Y/N):

I’m sending this letter to wish you a Merry Christmas and a great New Year, even though it’s not the 31st yet, but well… that doesn’t really matter right now.

I remembered you talking about how much you wanted to read more classics, and I couldn’t help myself. Inside the box, you will find Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley, and Wuthering Heights, by some other lovely woman named Emily Brontë. I’m not so sure about why you would enjoy them as much as I did, but maybe they’ll inspire you on your journey of becoming a writer. It won’t hurt visiting new worlds to fill your mind with ideas.

Also, and I hope this doesn’t bother you, the books are not brand new. They were read by me and have some marks on the pages, but I don’t like giving new books as gifts. I think that if they were used, they are even more special and hold more value.

Can’t wait to see you once the break is over.

Sincerely, Remus John Lupin.

|||

The grin on her face never abandoned her after reading Remus’s letter and opening the silver paper with golden stars all over it, in which he had wrapped the two books he had mentioned. In fact, it lingered on her for the rest of the day, accompanied with a special and renovated brightness in her eyes.

Before letting the owl return back to its owner, (Y/N) gave her some food and water, and when it was ready, she attached a small box with red paper on the exterior and a green bow at the top. She had also prepared a gift for him, even if it wasn’t that meaningful (at least, that was what she thought). (Y/N) only hoped he would enjoy the chocolate stash, full with different muggle and wizarding ones she had thought he could try, while the owl stepped away from her windowsill.

Around eight p.m, she finally went to bed and despite spending the day interacting with her family, (thing that tired her out pretty quickly), (Y/N) was more awake than ever before. Laying down on her bed with a cup of tea and an old blanket that had once belonged to her sister, covering her legs, she grabbed one of the books Remus gifted her, ready to dwell in Mary Shelley’s world.

#remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #young!remus lupin #young!remus x reader #marauders imagine #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #marauders era #fluff #sirius black #james potter #petter pettigrew #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #slytherin!reader #slytherin #remus lupin x slytherin!reader

143 notes · View notes

lifeofkaze · 3 years

Text

An Art of Balance #2

A/N: Chapter 2, here you go. I can’t believe how much I missed writing, let me tell you :D Also, looking at my draft and at how high the word counts for every chapter I’ve written so far turned out… we’re in for a long one, hope you’ll stay with me through it. Enjoy!

Warning: mild swearing, use of alcohol

Word Count: ~ 2.700

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 2: Secrets Spilt

Orion leaned back contently, supporting his weight on the bench with his hands and let his gaze wander through the Great Hall. It was looking magnificent as ever, packed to the brim with students new and old, chatting excitedly, the air humming with positive energy. They had just finished their welcome feast and waited for the new first years to be escorted to their common rooms, so the older students could follow up.

He felt a smile spread on his face. As much as he appreciated the summer break to reset and focus on himself, there was nothing quite like coming back to what was home to him. He looked at each of his friends around him, grateful for having found so many people over the last years he considered his family.

A group of newly sorted Gryffindors walked past, being ushered along by Gryffindor’s newest prefect. Charlie Weasley, star of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Orion eyed him up curiously. He was undeniably gifted when it came to playing seeker. As a matter of fact, Orion wouldn’t put a professional career past his abilities. If they wanted to have a chance to win the House Cup once again, they had better watch out for him.

When he passed where Lizzie was sitting, he nonchalantly saluted her with two fingers put to his forehead and grinned. Lizzie stuck her tongue out to him before she started laughing and waved back. Charlie gave her a wink and continued along after his brother Bill and their charges. Orion noticed Skye giving Lizzie a glum look.

“Stop that, Jameson, this is competition you’re flirting with.”

“I wasn’t flirting, I was waving at a friend. Get a grip, Skye,” Lizzie snapped at her, clearly exasperated.

Skye only snorted at that. “Whatever. He’s in another house and on top on another team. You can be nice to him all you want, once we’ve shown Gryffindor the ropes on the pitch.”

“What if we’re playing them last, do you expect me not to talk to one of my best friends for the whole year or what?” Lizzie shot her an angry glance. “Besides, if you weren’t so consumed with seeing everyone as competition, you could actually benefit from me being friends with him. He is excellent on his broom. I bet he could even show you a trick or two.”

Skye bristled up at that and Orion felt resignation set in. He had hoped Lizzie and Skye would last at least a week until their inevitable bickering commenced. Although they had been playing on the same team for so many years, their different approach to the sport they both loved so much invariably led to tensions. Tensions that were his responsibility as the team’s captain to resolve.

“Everyone has their strengths as well as their weaknesses. We should not concentrate on others but focus on how we can overcome our weak sides to rise stronger than before.” He leaned over the table pushing the two girls glaring at each other gently apart. “It is no use to fight amongst ourselves when we have a common goal to achieve.”

“He’s right, you know,” Penny agreed happily. “I’ve had enough of the Cup being dressed in blue and bronze already. You two be nice to each other and take it back for us.”

Much to his surprise, Skye actually let it rest at that, only muttering a stubborn “They could show me shit, Jameson, as if…” but Lizzie wasn’t listening to her anymore. Rowan was walking past with their new housemates in tow and Lizzie jumped up, walking over to her. Though Orion couldn’t hear what they said, he saw Lizzie return of few moments later, looking puzzled and Rowan leaving with the first years.

He opened his mouth to ask what was bothering her but was cut short by McNully announcing Hufflepuff’s first years to have been the last of them and it being high time they left for their common room as well.

Saying he was relieved to finally be able to get out of his school uniform would have been an understatement. He shrugged into his battered coat, running his hand over the worn fabric. It had been with him for so long it almost felt part of his identity. Orion felt himself relaxing more and more. Laying back on his bed, arms crossed behind his head, he closed his eyes and let the familiar smell of warm wood and the fire from the common room wash over him.

This was home.

The other boys sharing the dorm with him were still gathered around the giant fireplace, but he didn’t mind. Although they were about to start their sixth year together, he didn’t really feel connected to them. The only exception was McNully, who shared his passion about Quidditch, albeit in quite a different way.

He propped himself up on his side and reached over to his nightstand, where he had put up pictures of his team he had collected over the course of the years. Picking up the first one he could reach, he fell back again, letting his mind wander back to the glaringly hot day the photograph had been taken. It was a snapshot of the team celebrating a last-minute win against Ravenclaw two years ago. He could almost feel the heat of the sun on his skin as he looked at the exhilarated faces of his friends. The sudden burst of joy mixed with relief of not being shot out of the race for the Cup had even let Skye forget the fight she had had with Lizzie at the time, both girls having one arm around the other’s shoulder, grinning like mad up at him.

A soft sigh escaped him. As much as he valued his friendship with both of them, Skye and Lizzie could both be a handful, especially when disagreeing with each other. Where Skye was peculiar with her subordinating every aspect of her life to Quidditch and expecting everybody else to do the same, Lizzie was extremely prickly when she felt herself or one of her friends being attacked. Most of the times their quarrel was nothing more than that and they quickly returned to being friends, but every so often it would turn into a downright fight.

Orion looked up when he heard the door opening and the soft noise of McNully’s wheelchair approaching him.

“Taking a trip down memory lane?” McNully came to a halt next to him, looking curiously at the picture Orion was holding in his hands.

“Yes, setting my mind for all the things that need to be done for the new season.”

McNully leaned closer, eyes shining excitedly. “And there are a lot of these! You need to find a new beater, scout out what the other teams are up to, assess their strengths and weaknesses- “

“Good to see you have already worked out my whole schedule,” Orion interrupted him flatly.

McNully gracefully ignored the rare sarcasm in his friend’s voice. “What did you expect, I had the whole summer to think about this. And if you want to know, I do think Gryffindor will be your hardest contender for the top. Contrary to us, their team remains unchanged and they only lost to us last year due to circumstances that are highly improbable to repeat themselves.”

Fading his voice out, Orion’s mind went back to what had happened in the Great Hall earlier. McNully was right. None of the other houses should be underestimated, but he had a feeling Gryffindor maybe deserved the closest look out of all of them. Although he really wouldn’t like to admit it out loud, in some way Skye had a point.

He looked over at McNully, lost in thought. “Do you think Lizzie and Charlie being so close could be a problem for us? Got any statistics for me on inter-house friendships influencing performance? Or was Skye overreacting earlier?”

The blond wizard only laughed. “Hey, don’t ask me about inter-personal relationships, especially regarding your teammates. After all,” and he rolled over to his own bed, smiling innocently, “I’m just your ever impartial commentator.”

***

Lizzie’s face hurt from laughing. She leaned back against her bed post and wiped a tear from her eye while Tonks stopped her impersonation of Professor McGonagall, turning her face back into its original state. She reached for the bottle of cherry liquor they had been passing around. Shaking it gently she listened to the remainders of the liquid slosh inside.

“Uh-oh, girls, we’re almost done.” She set the bottle to her lips, emptying it in one big gulp.

“Oi, Tonks, let us in on the fun!” Skye protested but Tonks only grinned and burped before tossing her the empty bottle.

Lizzie felt herself giggling again, giddy from the alcohol coursing through her body.

Penny, who sat next to her, leaned forward and snatched the bottle out of Skye’s hands. Her cheeks were flushed and her voice already had slight slur to it. “To mark the occasion of me having my favourite girls ever back, how about a round of good old truth-and-dare?”

Everybody groaned but got up anyway and sat down in a circle on the floor. Penny placed the bottle in the middle and got her wand out.

“Remember, everyone not telling the truth or chickening out on the dare gets to live with neon green hair for the rest of the week. Except for Tonks who has to go with a boring colour of her choice.”

To emphasise the stakes, Tonks let her hair change colour, showcasing such a bright green it actually hurt to look at her.

Lizzie felt the familiar tingling on her skin as Penny cast the spell on them. She glanced sideways at Rowan, who didn’t look to keen on the prospect of the game, but said nothing. Maybe it would loosen her up a bit.

Penny spun the bottle. It came to rest on Tonks, who confidently chose a dare. Penny thought about it for a second. “I dare you to prank Madam Pince before the end of the week. “

Tonks laughed out loud. “Consider it done. And here was me thinking this was about something I don’t want to do.” She spun the bottle again, this time it stopped pointing at Lizzie. She tensed a little bit.

“Alright, Lizzie, truth or dare?”

Lizzie remembered the last time she had chosen the dare vividly. They had made her lecture Snape on every detail about her hair care routine, complete with a recommendation of her favourite shampoo. It had cost her ten house points, detention and a good chunk of her dignity.

Considering that, she really had no choice. “Truth, I guess. I’m too scared of you, Tonks.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you, we’re only on warm up. Have you been kissed before?”

Lizzie felt a blush creep up her face. Avoiding her friends’ curious faces she looked up at the ceiling. “Yes.”

“What?!” Penny shrieked, gripping her arm. “Who? When? Don’t be a buzzkill, tell us everything!”

Lizzie shook her head. “Not a chance.”

“You have to tell us!” Tonks complained. “You have to answer my question!”

“I know. I did. You didn’t ask for any details, so I have to tell you bugger all.” Ignoring Tonks’ pout, she grabbed the bottle and quickly spun it. She could feel Rowan’s eyes resting on her and felt a little guilty. She hadn’t even told her best friend about her first kiss.

She could still feel Rowan watching her while she dared Skye walking into the Great Hall at breakfast like a chicken but when she looked over, Rowan quickly dropped her gaze.

“Well, Lizzie, looks like it’s you again.”

She looked back to the middle of the circle where the bottle pointed at her for the second time.

Brilliant. She already pictured herself giving Snape an additional lecture on conditioner. She sighed. “Dare.”

Skye blinked innocently at her. “Smashing. I dare you to tell us who your first kiss was with.”

Lizzie looked at her dumbfounded. Tonks and Skye high-fived, looking thoroughly pleased with themselves.

“This is not how his game is working,” Lizzie protested helplessly.

“Yes, it is. Now spill the beans!” Skye replied smugly.

For a second, Lizzie contemplated how she would look with green hair, but with another glance at Tonks’s radiantly glowing head, she gave in to the inevitable.

Covering her face with her hands, she mumbled something incomprehensible.

Skye put a hand to her hear. “Sorry, can’t hear you!”

Exasperated, Lizzie threw her head back and exclaimed, “Alright, it was Charlie Weasley! There you have it!”

Her friends’ reactions came all at once. Penny was squealing, whereas Skye was glaring at her, yelling “Jameson, seriously?!”. Tonks was laughing her head off.

“I can’t believe it, Dragon Boy got himself a girlfriend!” she roared.

Lizzie fiercely shook her head. “Merlin, no, don’t you get any ideas! It was just that one kiss, nothing more. It was Christmas, there was a mistletoe and that is it! End of story!”

Penny couldn’t contain herself with excitement. “You two spent Christmas together? How come I never knew? Lizzie, you have to tell me everything. Right. Now.”

Again, Lizzie buried her face in her hands. Suddenly the prospect of lecturing Snape didn’t sound so bad.

Suddenly Rowan spoke up next to her. “You heard what she said. It was nothing serious and the dare is fulfilled. Leave her alone.”

Surprised, Lizzie looked over to her. For the first time that evening, Rowan smiled at her, albeit it was somewhat restrained.

She got up. “In fact, I think we’ve all had enough. Let’s call it a day, shall we?” With that, she snatched the bottle from the floor, grabbed her things from her bed and left the room.

Lizzie had been tossing and turning for over an hour now, listening to Skye softly snoring in the bed to her right. She absentmindedly ran her fingers through Mouse’s thick fur, who was rolled into a tight ball against her stomach. After returning from home, it always took her a few nights to get accustomed to sharing her room with other people again.

When she heard Rowan getting out of bed on her other side, she propped herself up onto her elbows. She could see her friend tiptoeing over to the dresser at the far end of the room, pouring herself a glass of water.

Lizzie watched her silhouette quietly. Better get this over with now.

She waited until her friend returned before turning to her side.

“Rowan?” she whispered quietly.

She could see the other girl looking up, although her features were indiscernible in the darkness.

“Lizzie? Can’t sleep, can you?”

“Yeah.” Rowan knew she always had trouble falling asleep for the first few nights. “Can I ask you something?”

Rowan didn’t answer immediately. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were made a prefect?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about you and Charlie?” she retorted. Lizzie could hear the hurt in her best friend’s voice.

She sighed softly. “I’m sorry, I know should have. We just thought, keeping this between ourselves would prevent stupid rumours from spreading. It was just for fun.”

Rowan didn’t reply at first. Then, “It’s alright.”

“Now you. Why didn’t you tell me about the prefect thing?”

“This has nothing to do with you personally, really. It’s just… you have gotten so absorbed into this whole Quidditch world; I feel like I can’t keep up. Sometimes it’s like I’m not that big a part of your life anymore, Liz.”

Lizzie felt a punch of sadness at her words. And a tad guilty as well. “You could have told me anytime. You are my best friend, Rowan, you are part of everything I do.”

Although she couldn’t see her face, she heard the smile in Rowan’s voice. “That’s good to know.”

They were both silent for a bit.

“Rowan?”

“Hm?” she replied sleepily.

“Thanks for helping me out earlier.”

“Sure. Good night, Lizzie.”

“Good night.”

Lizzie snuggled herself into her blanket, moving Mouse a little bit to make herself more comfortable. She couldn’t shake the feeling there was something Rowan had not told her. But before she could think on it any further, she had already drifted off to sleep.

#harry potter #hogwarts mystery #hphm #orion amari #orion amari x mc #orion x mc #lizzie jameson #skye parkin #penny haywood #rowan khanna #murphy mcnully #charlie weasley #quidditch squad #the quidditch squad #art of balance

28 notes · View notes